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softpascalito · 5 months

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Christmas Baking for Three - Joel Miller x Reader

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

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

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

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn't exactly call it baking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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youwouldntdownloadapizza · 3 months

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter 1

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.6k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia

chapter warnings: childbirth (mentioned)

Chapter 1

The first time you met Joel, he stank like shit. Literally, he smelled like he had rolled in it. You issued him soap, and sent him on his way. That was a loss to Jackson’s ledgers you were more than willing to take.

The second time, he smelled better. Unremarkable mostly, more of a neutral scent tinged with man smell around the edges. Nothing to write home about. Still, you issued him deodorant. Couldn’t take any chances.

He requested bullets, a basic first aid kit, and warm clothing. With Maria’s approval, you made the relevant deductions and issued the items at hand. You even sprung for wool socks. With a winter like this, he could use all the help he could get.

“You’re headed south, right?” you asked him as he packed a worn duffel bag.

“Colorado,” he replied. You waited, but that’s all he gave you. Guess he didn’t feel like elaborating.

“What about the girl, she need anything?”

He considered the offer, then asked, “You got any pens, pencils or anything? Notebooks? She likes to keep track of things, take notes. Draw, mostly,” he trailed off, scrubbing a hand over his face, “And we’re almost out of paper.”

You smiled at that. A girl after your own heart . “I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

* * *

You asked Tommy about him, once the two of them were gone. He didn’t have much to say.

“Barely talked to the girl. Probably know about as much about her as you do. Joel… Well, Joel’s an enigma.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “Come on, Tommy. I’m asking for the basics, not his social security number.”

Tommy sighed. “He’s brash, he’s protective, he’s opinionated… I don’t know what much else to tell you. He’s just Joel. One of those people you gotta get to know just by knowing ‘em, I guess.”

You blinked twice. “Supremely helpful, Tommy.”

* * *

The next time you met Joel, he smelled better but looked worse. You only half-remembered his eyes, but something in them last time had been warmer. The ones you saw now were… dead, almost. Like something within them had been destroyed. Whether he’d been the one to do the destroying or it had been done to him remained to be seen.

You’d seen him and the girl with Tommy and Maria in the dining hall that first time they’d come to town, wolfing down chili like they’d just discovered, well, chili. They ate slower now, both of them, not like they weren’t in a rush but like their heads were elsewhere. The girl seemed to stare into nowhere—not all the time, but it was distinct when she did it.

Joel didn’t zone out. No, if anything he was zoned in . On that poor girl who had been so full of life just months ago, now hollowed out like far too many others. You’d see about filling her back up later. But for now, he was the one that perplexed you. Why was he so focused on her? What had happened out there? Part of you never wanted to find out, but part of you really, really did.

Regardless, she needed new shoes. So you joined them. The man stopped mid-chew, looking up at you with trepidation.

“Hi,” you smiled, “glad you two made it back in one piece.”

“Me too,” he replied, turning his attention back to his cud. You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a joke or not. You turned your attention to the girl.

“You’re Ellie, right? I’m Doe. Or that’s what most folks around here call me, anyway.”

“Doe?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Like a deer?”

“A female deer,” you winked back at her. She stared at you blankly.

“It’s a song,” Joel muttered to her softly, “from before.”

“Oh,” Ellie nodded. The silence dragged, but thankfully you came prepared.

“Cobbler?” you offered bowls to each of them. It was fresh from the oven, still steaming and smelling of cinnamon.

“Yes, please!” Ellie yanked the bigger bowl towards herself, broccoli forgotten. She got a few bites in before Joel intervened, pulling the sugar aside and reinstating the vegetables. The girl frowned at that, but his pointed look said not to bother arguing. So she didn’t.

“Don’t worry, it’ll still be hot in a minute.” You tucked into your own cobbler, savoring the warm sweetness as it glided across your tongue. Even in Jackson, it was a delicacy. But it was spring, and the cherries were here. And you’d accounted for everything.

“Did you want something?” Joel asked, finishing his own plate and reaching for the cobbler.

“Ellie needs new shoes.”

“We’ve got it handled,” he said.

“Do you, though? You haven’t got much to trade with, and we’ve got plenty in inventory. That’s kind of what it’s there for. Why suffer blisters when communism’s got your back?”

“Can I?” Ellie’s face lit up. You liked seeing her eyes like that: brighter. They belonged that way.

Joel swallowed his cobbler, mulling over the idea. “After lunch,” he agreed, nodding to the eager teen. “Finish your cobbler first.”

* * *

Ellie’s new light-up sneakers lit the way as you exited the storeroom through your office. Joel had insisted on a sensible pair as well, but you couldn’t deny the kid a little whimsy.

“Maria give you your patrol schedule yet?” you asked him, nodding to the well-worn chalkboard in the corner. Routes on the left, days and times up top. Names filled in the boxes in between, a testament to your logistical wizardry.

“Not yet,” he said, crossing to examine it. “Guess she doesn’t need to, now.”

“I’ve got you paired up with Tommy. Seemed easiest, to get you started. You’ll be headed up to the lodge, it’s a pretty standard route. Get the occasional runner, but it’s wildlife more than anything.”

He nodded, heading toward where Ellie was already scampering out the door.

“See you Tuesday, I suppose. Guessing you’re the one to check-in with?” he asked.

You smiled at his correct assumption.

“Sure am.”

* * *

You didn’t know Joel well enough to make assumptions about his punctuality, but Tommy was never late. Even you were late from time to time, often getting swept up in tasks and losing track of things. But the man was annoyingly punctual. According to Maria, that’s part of why she fell for him.

Tommy was late today.

You crossed to the large observation window lining one wall of your office. It gave you a clear view of the front gates and surrounding guard stations, but there was no sign of Tommy anywhere. Or Joel, for that matter.

A knock on your door interrupted your analysis. It was Eugene. The grizzled old man acted anything but, a smile breaking out across his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, Doe! How’s things?” He asked.

“Fine. I’m looking for Tommy, actually–”

“Didn’t you hear?” He interrupted, “Maria’s gone into labor. He’s with her at the clinic.”

Your stomach dropped. Here you were preparing to chew Tommy out for his tardiness when the whole time he’d been busy becoming a father. A very valid excuse.

“And Joel?” you asked. “They were supposed to patrol together this afternoon, lodge route.”

“Not sure. He wasn’t with them. Listen, I gotta go grab the baby blanket I made and drop it off, but you and I need to have a drink one of these days. I worry your hair’s gonna start falling out in clumps if you don’t take a break eventually.”

“Yeah, but then what would you do, patrol out to the dam with Jesse? There’s a reason I don’t pair you two up anymore.”

“Because you don’t like blackberries?” he chided.

You frowned, “No, because you spent so long harvesting them your 8 hour patrol took 12. I was this close to sending out a search party. A little planning prevents a lot of headaches, Eugene.”

He turned to leave, looking back over his shoulder to get the last word. “You know what else is good for headaches? Whiskey.”

You sent Eugene on his way with instructions to give Maria your best. You’d visit her when the baby was here. For now, you had a community to protect.

With Tommy out of commission and Joel MIA, you’d have to find someone else to help you cover this patrol route. Dina was always a solid partner, if she was around. Devon the bartender could generally be counted on to have your back. Eugene would be ideal, but you didn’t want to make him work a double.

You headed to the stables to see who you could find. Upon entering, the warmth of the building and company of the animals soothed your unease, if only slightly.

You found your horse’s stall, the gray spotted mare whinnying at your arrival.

“Hey, Bailey,” you smiled, offering her a slightly bruised apple. She took it gratefully, big brown eyes closing in enjoyment.

“She’s beautiful,” a voice said from behind you, making you jump.

“Sorry,” the voice stepped into the light, “It’s just me.”

“Joel,” you took a deep breath in an attempt to slow your racing heartbeat.

“Sorry I’m late–”

You cut him off with a raised hand, looking him in the eye.

“You’re not with your brother,” you finally said, more of a statement than a question.

“You’re not with your best friend,” he replied, offering no further details.

You sighed, debating arguing with him about it before deciding the subject was better left untouched. You had your reasons for staying away from childbirth. If Joel had his own, he was entitled to that. You weren’t going to press him on it, so long as he didn’t press you.

“Come on,” you said, swinging your leg over Bailey’s back and settling into the saddle, “We’re making up for lost time.”

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #no use of y/n #joel miller x f!reader #jackson era #joel lives #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction

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pimosworld · 28 days

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Push

Pairing- Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary- Joel never gets pushed too far, except when it comes to you.

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, jackson era Joel, established relationship, Ellie is a menace, reader is a bad ass, canon typical violence, blood, wounds, minor character death, protective Joel, protective reader, Angst, Smut,unprotected piv,Joel needs a big ol hug, no description of reader, no use of y/n.

WC-3.5k

A/N- Joel has inspired me lately and I may be procrastinating too much with him but I just can’t help myself.

[Main Masterlist][Joel Miller Masterlist]

Not beta read

Maybe you should’ve pushed back a little when Ellie suggested you travel a little further to the pond just outside of the patrol area. Some small part of you was still trying to bond with the teenager despite you knowing how much she admired you. It was a little selfish to want to impress someone that knew next to nothing about what the world had been.

She was so persistent and just like Joel you couldn’t resist those eyes and her smile.

“Please I promise it will be quick.” Her face was fixed in a pout and you thought what harm could it be to let her live a little.

You’d spent months on this route, many times with Joel,Tommy or Ellie. You hadn’t seen a living soul out here in so long that you forgot what you were even patrolling for.

You feel a push in the direction down the tall grass path as the sweat drips down your back. The first really hot day you’ve had in a while and it makes you dizzy. Unable to form a coherent thought. All poor excuses for not being able to make the right decisions.

You suppose the horses need a break too as the pond comes into view like a mirage. Ellie trotting a little faster when she sees the ripple of the water calling her name. You can hear it faintly in the distance calling out to you as the shade from the willow casts a perfect shadow onto the landscape in front of you. The lush green, tiny leaves still flowing in the light breeze before the heat has them give way to yellow and orange.

She’s already off her horse, socks and shoes discarded as she steps boldly into the water up to her knees. Joel would kill her for being so careless with her clothes but you know he often forgot how impatient children could be.

He was equally as impatient with you when you’d return from a long day of not seeing him, not being able to run your fingers through his soft curls at the nape of his neck. Not wanting to waste another moment with your body pressed up against his. He’d take you in the hallway when Ellie was gone, practically tripping over himself to get to you.

You try not to think about that now as you strip your boots off next to the water. Unlike Ellie you don’t fancy wet pants so you take those off too, laying them gently along the horse's back. You try not to think about how nice it would be to dip into this pond with him, bare as you float with your legs wrapped around his waist while he holds you safely under so not to expose you to the elements or any prying eyes.

Perhaps the prying eyes you would’ve seen had Ellie not pushed you into the cold water. It takes your breath away at first. Despite the heat outside, the last remnants of snow seem to still linger in this private sanctuary. The water is colder than anything you’ve felt. You come up gasping for air as she stands before you keeled over in laughter and you can’t help but join her when you look down at your disheveled state.

“Wow you’re so clumsy.” She says as she feigns innocence.

“That was a dirty trick.” You splash her as she screams running back to the water's edge. “I’m gonna tell Joel you’re afraid of water.” You yell back at her as your body acclimates to the frigid temperature. The oversized shirt you borrowed from Joel clinging to your skin as your hands skim along the tops of the water.

“You wouldn’t dare loser. I’ll tell him this was your idea.” You know she would too, and he might’ve believed her had the circumstances been different.

Ellie’s already lacing up her boots when you hear it. A disturbance in the trees too loud over the sound of your heart beating faster. The hair standing up on the back of your neck as you turn around and lock eyes with two men on horseback. Two men who’ve never set foot in the little community you’ve built into a family. Two men who don’t look like they want to ask for directions. Two men sizing up the competition while you scramble for a way to get Ellie to safety because you know Joel would kill you if you contemplated any less.

“Well aren’t you just an angel in white.” The younger man says as he takes you in. Your shirt soaked through leaving nothing to the imagination and your damn pants draped neatly on your horse.

You can hear your name being called again as you turn to Ellie, wide eyed across the pond.

“Go!”

“What the fuck no, I’m not leaving you!” She yells back, the ever overconfident spit fire that she is.

A quick whistle behind you and you’re moving to the water line before they cut you both off. It’s save Ellie or none of you.

“Ellie so help me god, if you never listen to me another day in your life listen to me right now and go!” She starts to protest but the horse beside her is getting restless. “I promise I’ll be right behind you.”

Even if it’s not true you say it all the same. She mounts her horse with tears in her eyes as she takes off through the tall grass.

“We got a runner.” The man not much older than Joel juts his chin on Ellie’s direction. You’re grateful she’s far out of your eyesight with her horse that’s much faster than yours.

“Want me to go after her?” The other man snarls as if you’re not standing right there. Enough of a distraction to at least make it near your horse.

The last thing you want is to be stuck between these two desperate souls. Without pants…that’s not how you expected to die. Wading through this cool oasis only to be met by the devil.

“No loose ends.” He smirks at you as you retrieve your bow from the pack on your horse. You don’t suppose he knew those would be his last words, but he pushed you to this.

You raise your arm high, steadying the bow as you feel the tension of the string beneath your fingers. Joel always said you were a better shot with this than a revolver and he could never figure out how.

“Now what are you gonna do with that besides piss me —“ . It’s only the sound of the whoosh next to your ear before he’s clutching his hands around the arrow lodged in his throat. His partner's momentary shock buys you enough time to at least get half dressed before you mount your horse.

His dramatic fall to the ground causes his horse to skitter off as you give chase in the opposite direction of Ellie, the opposite direction of the safe town that you love so much that holds the man who loves you just as hard. Who will be cursing you for being the savior when you could’ve been selfish.

****

Joel hates these days. Bright, beautiful, sunny days. It’s days like these where things always seemed to go wrong. Like the universe knows to throw a little chaos into something otherwise so perfect. Nothing in this world is allowed to be that perfect. Except you.

You were the reason he started drifting away from the gloom and overcast and started to bask in the sun. Let the warmth of the rays wash over him like a golden flame bath.

When he’d catch you laying in the yard just glowing and he never wanted to disturb you but you always seemed to know when his presence loomed near. Maybe his scent or the magnetic pull you both had on each other as you pat the patch of grass next you. He’d grumble about his back and his knees later but in those moments he didn’t care. Not when you smile so sweet next to him as you block the sun with your hand.

“Where’s Ellie?” You already half know the answer. If she was anywhere near she’d have been out here grumbling just like Joel about you laying in the sun all while joining you in the activity.

“She’s at a friends…why’d ya-.” He can’t even get the words out before you’re up. Throwing one leg over his waist as you push him down. He grunts and lays back rolling his eyes at your theatrics.

He doesn’t really think you’re gonna do what it looks like you’re doing and he’s proved right when you scoot down just enough to settle onto his chest. The front of you all warm against him as you breathe in the smell of his flannel. Your arms come to rest on his shoulders as you wiggles your ass a little more to find the right spot. He just looks down at you curiously as you tilt your head to the side and sigh. Finally content with your position on top of him, listening to his steady heartbeat.

His heartbeat has picked up a little at the close proximity of you. A position you’ve been in much more compromising in your shared bedroom with much less clothes. He can see it now as he closes his eyes, your naked body on top of his as you take from him what you want. You chuckle as you feel his cock twitch beneath you as he lets his mind wander a little further. That earns you a pinch which makes you laugh even harder.

“Quit squirmin’ honey or I’m gonna have to do something’ about this.” His hands grip your waist as he pulls you in closer and a shudder runs through your body.

“M’ not squirmin’.” You mumble into his chest.

“Mhmm, ya comfortable enough?” His voice is low and slow like he’s drifting off to sleep.

“Ya Miller, I’m comfortable.”

****

The sun is still high in the sky, but he can tell it’s later than it should be. He stands with his arms crossed against the gate staring off into the open plains. You and Ellie were always punctual with morning patrol returns. Or maybe he should say you. The routine you grew to love when you were first assigned. It left you the day to do what you wanted. Take a nap, read a book, make dinner and visit with Maria.

He’s growing impatient as he watches the horizon for any signs of you. His eyes playing tricks on him when he thinks he can procure an image of the two of you laughing about something as you approach the town. He squints even more and he can hear your voice now telling him in another life he’d need an optometrist.

He pushes off the gate when another image threatens to make him think he’s lost his mind. He thinks he has when his heart drops into his stomach at the sight of Ellie on her horse. Kicking up dust and riding faster towards him than he’s ever seen in his life. The two of you aren’t racing or playing some sick joke on him. It’s just her coming into view, panicked eyes as she locks onto his.

He doesn’t wait for Tommy, doesn’t wait for backup that may slow him down anyways as he mounts his horse to meet her in the open. Not bothering to tell the patrol past the gate what he’s doing and where he’s going.

He can see the dry tears and the fresh ones too as he gets closer to her. “Where?” He doesn’t have time to worry about the what, why or how.

“The pond.” She chokes out as he curses under his breath. “It was all my fault…I just -.”

“Save it.” It’s said harsher than he intends but he still can’t help himself. Knowing whose idea it was to go beyond the chartered territory. Knowing you had a weak spot who happened to be named Ellie. His quick bite is enough of a punishment as he takes off in the same direction she came from. He knows she beat herself up enough on the way here and probably made up time with the way she pushed her horse.

He leaves her in the dust as the sound of hoofbeats pound the dry ground beneath him. His chest burns like he’s running as he grips the reins tighter with each passing second. The sweat drips down his back that aches with the pressure of not having ridden this hard in years. He got too comfortable in this town, too used to the mundane way of life. He hadn’t been reminded of what it felt like to have that dread creep in. To feel the rush of adrenaline that he grew so used to in his past life.

He’s gone soft.

The relaxed fall turned into a lazy winter with no murmurs of trouble or infected. Spring made it feel like some utopia that they’d stumbled upon and he’d let the universe pull the wool over his eyes.

You shouldn’t be here…a bright sunny day as it beats down on him. Taunting him with how beautiful the landscape is around him as he barrels through the trees into the undesignated area.

The one rule he told you never to break because trouble lurks near water. People, animals, monsters.

He comes to an abrupt stop at the edge of the water searching for any sign of you. There’s an unfamiliar horse next to an unrecognizable body. He does recognize one thing jutting out of the man’s throat. An arrow. A clean shot, cutting off his airway. He likely died slow as his throat filled with blood and he choked on it until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

He tears his eyes away from the nameless bastard and locks onto your boots. His chest tightens even more at the sight and he’s trying hard to fill his lungs with air. He’s suffocating much like the lifeless body next to him.

He hears your shriek of his name as he whips his head around and sees nothing. Just the trees blowing in the wind. He shouts for you as the weight piles on. The horse beneath him grows frantic as your cries echo in his mind.

This is quite possibly the worst time to be having a panic attack but that’s all he feels as he bellows your name. Each call a heavier weight on his chest until no sound escapes at all. He clutches at his shirt trying to rip it free from his body, it’s too hot and clingy and he can’t get any air.

“Joel!” Nothing, just blackness behind his eyes. “Joel, honey, wake up!”

His hands are shaking as he blinks trying to figure out where you are.

“Honey, look at me.” You’re straddling his waist with your hands on his chest. Fresh tears rolling down your face with wide panicked eyes.

He pushes you off him so fast it startles you. You’ve switched positions now as he traps your body between his arms. You’re not entirely sure he’s fully aware of the situation and that scares you a little. The sweat dripping from his brow and the way his chest heaves with every breath.

He pulls your face back with his large palms and grips your chin in his hand. Frantically tossing it side to side. “Are you hurt?” His voice is wrecked from yelling for god knows how long.

“No Joel, I’m fine.” You say as a tear that’s not yours drops down onto your face.

“Did he hurt you?” It’s strained and shaky as he pulls up your shirt, his that he lets you borrow at night. Inspecting your body for any signs of damage. You just shake your head afraid of answering in a sob, the lump forming in your throat at the sight of him still so worried.

He breathes in deep through his nose and lets out a small sigh of relief. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he lets the full weight of him fall into you. You’re both exhausted for completely different reasons. It was starting to scare you not being able to pull him out of this nightmare. He just kept screaming your name as you tried to shake him awake. You didn’t want him to endure any longer what was plaguing his mind when he was supposed to be sleeping peacefully at your side.

It’s a moment before he speaks. You rubbing his back as you kiss him softly reassuring him that you were right where you needed to be.

“Don’t you ever do anything like that to me again.” He murmurs into your neck in all seriousness. “You come straight home next time.”

“Yes Miller, I’ll always come home to you.” Now’s not the time to tease so you just agree to never commit whatever atrocity it was that had him gripped with fear. Although you can take a wild guess that your name will be scratched from the patrol board for a few weeks.

He sits up a little to look down at you. His eyes are still red but a little more of your Joel in them. He plants a long kiss to your forehead as you place your hand over his heart. The steady thump under your palm much calmer than before.

“Where’s Ellie?”

“She’s at a friend's house, remember?”

Faintly he recalls her asking and you telling her yes, that must have been hours ago. All he knows now is that you’re alone and that he didn’t wake her.

You’re alone

As his hands drift under the hem of the oversized shirt. Your soft skin raised with goosebumps as his fingers trail up higher until he reaches the underside of your breast.

“Joel.” You gently stop him and search his eyes in the dark room. “Are you sure?”

“Please baby, I need you.” Joel groans out, his plea much different at this hour. He needs to feel that you’re real, that you’re here. The strongest soul couldn’t resist Joel Miller begging for you like his life depends on it.

When you oblige it’s frantic, his hands pulling the shirt over your head while your foot hooks into his boxers dragging them down. His mouth is all over you, kissing and biting and breathing you in. He’s growling in your ear that he needs to be inside you and you know he’s desperate when he normally takes his sweet time with you.

This isn’t like one of those times and you don’t need it to be. You just need him, all of him all the time.

A groan leaves his lips as you grip the base of his cock, rubbing it between your folds. You’re so wet already at the sight of him above you, his arms bracing his weight so you can like him up.

It’s sinful the sound that leaves your mouth when he pushes in,burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. “Shit sweetheart, so tight.” His words are slurred as he braces his hand on the headboard behind you. His other hand gripping your thigh over his waist.

You don’t have a chance to respond. Only moans and whimpers of his name as he punches the air from your lungs with each thrust of his hips. The sound of skin on skin as you cling to his biceps and shoulders, anything to keep you from tipping over the edge too soon.

He’s babbling above you about how perfect you feel and you just clench around him at the praise.

He’s close and he can see just as much as feel how close you are by the way your eyes practically roll in the back of your head when he angles your hips up, hitting that spot deep inside that only he could seem to find.

He reaches between your sweat soaked bodies trailing his hands down but you stop him. He thinks he’s done something wrong briefly until you place his hand back on your thigh and that look of longing flashes in your eyes. “I want to come like this.”

He grits his teeth at the filthiest thing you’ve ever said. Fucking you with vigor as his hips begin the falter.

“Can I?”

“Fuck yes Joel, come inside me please.”

The pressure boils over at your words. The way it comes out all rushed and desperate. You’re arching your back as you fall over the edge with him. You’re clinging to him like a life vest as he groans in your ear. The light flashing behind his eyes at the most mind blowing orgasm he’s ever had.

He pushes down that feeling that he almost lost you. The one that isn’t real because you’re right here beneath him, looking at him as you brush the hair back from his face like he hung the moon. He kisses the corner of your mouth and down your jaw as you sleepily humm to yourself.

“I’m sorry for wakin’ ya darlin.”

“It’s okay Joel, don’t have patrol for a couple days.”

Tommy can bitch all he wants, you’ll never have patrol again.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

#joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou imagine #joel miller tlou #ellie and joel #ellie x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel the last of us #joelmiller #protective!joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #jackson era joel #tlou fanfiction

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cherubispunk · 11 days

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NEPHILIM: THE FALLEN - Jackson-era!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: fallen or damned? who's to tell when it's joel miller?

a note from Lucy: DONT HATE ME I KNOW ITS BEEN A LONG TIME!! Not entirely happy with this but it's been sitting in my docs for months now and i had to get it out there to give me some peace of mind so please be aware it may well be riddle with grammatical mistakes and typos galore. as always like, comment and reblog to save a sinners sanity!

playlist | moodboard + poem

wc: 2755

Warnings: 18+ MDNI DARK CONTENT! Jackson era!post outbreak!Joel, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, verbally constipated Joel Miller, brief gore descriptions, heavy religious imagery and references to the bible, biblical lore, yearning, idiots in love, angst angst angst!!!!!!, bombastic age gap!!! yahhhhh! (reader is in her 20’s/ Joel is in his late 50’s), smut, oral sex (m! receiving), rough oral sex, possessive!joel, dom!joel/sub!reader dynamic, you know the drill with my writing, there’s probably some form of cannibalism as a metaphor, or brutal violence as a metaphor, religious imagery as a metaphor, etc. (aka, fancy word vomit) - Lucy crying over a bloody google doc :)

series masterlist | m.list

Ephesians 2:3 Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest.

The sky was bruised. It was like God– or whatever resided up there– knew. The grey clouds, and the garish yellow of the setting sun, and the deep blue that ebbed into purple…they all knew. Your heart ached too. Bruised. It seemed to crack a little more each day. What started as nothing more than a hairline fracture had split into a gaping, weeping slice. Why? Because Joel was always quiet. For such a large man he had a ghostly habit of creeping into a room without notice. Creeping into your heart too through your hollow ribs. You could feel him behind you now though. His breath thick on the nape of your neck and it cooled the thin sheen of sweat on your skin. Soothed your burning flesh while saving it from the inferno. The tension became bearable. These little spaces of empty matter between all else. That slight awkwardness about his usual stoic yet confident demeanour…it was endearing now.

You were easing into the silence, content with watching the bruise darken from purple to midnight blue. The sky would turn on its bright little stars, and the moon would slice through sapphire as the early evening aged. The sun was going to rest now, the greying moon taking its post to watch over the town. You should follow the sun’s direction. Close your eyes so as to not have to witness his all too soon departure.

His fingers, so gentle, so strong, gently traced the curve and divot of your hip under the covers. It was strange to think just moments prior they had been inside you. Making you feel boneless in bed.

“Bambi?” He asked, tentative and uncharacteristically uncertain. He loathed it; the change in him.

“Mhm?” You hummed lazily, your hands tucked under the pillow to keep them warm, knees curled up to your chest. But no answer nor following question came. You knew what it was. He was cramming something back down his throat before he had the chance to say it for fear of being out of line. One day it shall choke him blue. He was strung so tightly. Tension in his shoulders that made them rise uncomfortably. And you noticed this when you turned to face him. Neither of you spoke for a moment, as if you were fooling yourself into believing he might continue. Your heart cracked a little more when he turned to face the wall,

“Never mind. It’s nothin’.” He had no reason to be weary of you. However in the past few weeks, coming up to a month, there was subtle, almost imperceptible unease that lingered. And festered. Palpable. Tangible. You could feel it when you reached out to touch his skin. So warm and gorgeous. Golden like ichor in this setting sunlight. You dared to press your lips to the wing of a shoulder blade, skin mangled with scar tissue where you liked to imagine wings once resided, and felt him flinch under your featherlight kiss. “Don’t, Bambi.”

“Joel-“

“I said: No.” His voice was firm, and didn’t give much leeway for convincing. “It’s not somethin’ you know how to fix.” But you were stubborn now. You’d found your feet. You stood your ground more, imitated behaviour. Before he could turn away again you reached to right him, set him flat on his back upon the mattress and splay your hand over his soft stomach under the covers. His throat tightened when your hand ventured timidly south. Then his breath tangled in his throat when it wrapped loosely around his half hard cock. Gently stroking it until it stood to attention in your palm. “Let me help…the way I know how.” You whispered into his ear, running your tongue under his earlobe to bring it between your teeth. Voice like honey, so sweet, and smooth, and slow pouring enough to get stuck in. Jesus Fucking Christ, he hated himself for even entertaining the idea of letting you do this for him. For being the one to help you find your feet. For being the man who tarnished innocence. It seemed all he did these days was ruin what little good there was left in the world. He’d taken an entire inkpot to a pristine sheet of paper, splattered black all over it without a care in the world until now. He felt like the space between you was stygian and reeked of his own sin. It simmered and spat and writhed and any moment now I would boil over the second you came to terms with the fact you were too good for him.

His nostrils flared with the thought but with a twist of your wrist he melted. Because at the base of it all, the very depth of his humanity, he was a selfish, selfish man. You watched a swallow pass down the thick column of his throat and rested your head on his shoulder while your hand dragged up his thick, full shaft, thumb smearing a bead of precome over the delicate flushed skin of its head. Joel watched the ceiling and wallowed in pathetic self pity as you kissed your way down his navel, lips moving in a mumbling of words he couldn't quite hear. He let out a breathy moan when you wrapped your lips around the tip, pressing your tongue flat to the underside to let the taste seep onto your tongue. He then closed his eyes trying to imagine anyone other than you between his legs. Another mouth. Another tongue. Someone else's voice.

It was no use because it seemed your eyes, the shade, the shape, were printed to the back of his lids. He gave up. He was too old to try to partake in sisyphean tasks.

Joel sat up and you moved between his legs as he threw the covers off to watch you. His back to the headboard, your warm mouth inviting him deeper, he hesitated to press a hand to the crown of your head, but when you pulled off to lick a flat tongued strip from base to tip, he found himself taking a fist of your hair and righting you over the head completely, pushing down so he slipped into your mouth. Muscle memory had the twitch of a smirk forming at the corner of his lips. The sight of you was enough to have his hips begging to buck, chasing the back of your throat, attempting to find that reaction again.

What you couldn't take of him you wrapped loosely in one hand and the other cupped his balls, adding the slightest pressure that had a dirty cuss passing his chapped lips. Deep inhales billowed in his nose, nostrils flared slightly as he dragged your open, salivating mouth up and down on his length. What he would never understand is how much you hungered for this every time. There was a pain in wanting him like no other, and a reward this great sowed the seed of pleading. You didn’t mind yearning for him because, to you, being hungry was quite a satisfying feeling. It feels nice to want something. To yearn. To have a purpose. You imagined he felt quite the same with the way he could hardly keep his hands from your cunt or your mouth when you passed his front door’s threshold.

“Look at me, Bambi.” He grunted, and your eyes fluttered slightly before the hue of them locked on his through your tear clumped lashes. “I’d like this mouth a whole lot more if it didn’t say such pretty things to me.” He almost lamented, and you felt a tug at your heartstrings. “Makin’ a man hope again.”

Joel sighed, eyes closing for the briefest second. His large hand was still pushing your head with the gentlest of force back down, then his fingers gripped at your hair, dragging you again so the warm, silken touch of your lips and tongue made the fire in his belly start to burn. It was aching, and deep rooted, and had a slow simmer to it. One he begged to hurry along. Joel wanted nothing more than his release so he could set you free again. Set the bird free of its cage. So he threw caution to the wind, and soon you felt the tip of his thick cock reach the back of your mouth again, your throat constricting. “Why won’t you hate me, huh Bambi? What did I do to deserve this?” He asked. If you knew no better you’d have thought his tone implied he hated it. His teeth gritted, words seethed between them. He spat it out in a way that made him seem unworthy of your attention— or the very taste of the thought disgusted him and made his stomach pull up in a wretch. Joel bit down so violently on nothing he swore his molars might turn to dust and clag in spit with the way he was salivating over the sight of you; Puffy lips, bloodshot watering eyes, messy hair. Bent over him and sucking on his cock like it was your only goddamned purpose in life.

You wanted to reply, splutter out the words, but he silenced you. The tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat, and causing your stomach to recoil, tensing as you gagged. Retching slightly as he grimaced at the sound. “You know I can’t love y–” he stopped mid sentence as the ache bloomed into a deep burn. You were oh so grateful because it meant you wouldn’t have to hear what you yearned not to. What you buried deep beneath your stomach and above your diaphragm— that slow, blooming ache. The feeling would never see the light of day. You’d rather die than come to terms with the fact that Joel would not be yours. He belonged to the world. The mass of nature that befell you. That which kept you human and incompetent. He was large, untamable, and oh so delectable in all ways other than matters of love. Joel Miller could not love you.

“Fuck- gonna come, Bambi.” He choked out, head falling back. You looked up at the sight of him through your lashes, lips parted, his brows creased gently in the space between them. Just as you yearned for him to love you, you yearned to be destroyed by him. Coated in him, broken down to pieces by him. Joel Miller could quite literally break you in half, then half again, and again— to the point where nothing was discernible— and you'd get on your knees to thank him for it all. Maybe loving him and being destroyed by him were two in the same?

In the months you’d known him you’d grown to learn that this was as close to a purpose as you’d get. The world robbed you of one, so you searched for it. Selfish enough to keep digging to find one. Only it had no purpose. It has a pattern now, and patterns trick and deceive people into believing in divine intervention. Joel was your divine right. Your purpose. That was what you believed. What you thought about each night. What you thought about now as you took his cock down to the base, the head of him brushing the back of your throat and folds soaked– drenched in the essence of your own arousal. All of which was emphasised by the ache you felt between your thighs that ebbed a little deeper with wanting. A ghost of the pleasure you felt when he was inside you. You entertained it with two fingers slipping between your thighs, teasing your clit. “God— Bambi…” He groaned, eyes rolling back in his head as he let go. Hot ropes of his release flooding your mouth with their heady, salty taste.

You pulled off his shaft, now wet and slick in your own saliva, swallowing a mouthful of his release. His eyes never left you, honing in on the ripple of your delicate throat as you swallowed his come down. Joel couldn't help but hook a thumb into your mouth to unhinge your jaw— to see if anything was left. Nothing was. There never was. Like him, you were too selfish to leave anything.

He should have known better. You never disappoint. “Bambi, you’re too damn good for me.” he panted, skin sweat slick and flushed.

“I promise I'm not.” you whispered to the skin of his lips before he wrapped a large, steadying hand around your arm and pulled you up to his chest. His face met yours and when you looked into those hickory eyes you could have melted on the spot; For the hue of them was nothing like you'd ever seen before, and could command nations to their knees. And if not nations then it could certainly do so to you. “I’m just as damaged as you.`’

The words had his gut in knots because they were akin to holding up a mirror to his visage. And holding his head in place. Holding it still so he was forced to look himself in the eyes and reflect. Reflecting on the monster he’d become. The monster he would always be.

“I’m not asking you to love me, Joel.” You spoke, your voice quiet, slight and timid. Uncertain of his reaction. The way your eyes met his was proof of that. Wide like a foal, wide enough to register the unjust curl of a lip. “ I’m just asking you to stay…”

The words had been burning the tip of your tongue red raw. Each night as he lay beside you, the same questions— words made up of nothing but consonants that had a profound effect on you– would hardly let you rest in his arms. They tortured you instead; Mocked you. It was the equivalent of hanging. You could feel the ghost of a noose around your neck. It might as well have been His hands. It was as rough as them after all.

What is wrong with you? What is so repulsive about you that warrants his departure? Was it the curve of your hips– their dips? Or even the bump on your nose– how dare it not have the perfect influxing curve! The slant of your eyes? The jagged stretch marks on the inside of your thighs! Not only had they the nerve to exist in their silver, shining mockery, posing as a diamond, but they had the fucking nerve to sit where others could see. Fuck them entirely and their very existance. Were those very thighs plump enough? Too plump? Why was there no gap between? Was there too much of a sag to your breasts? The colour of your nipples– why did they have to be that colour? Were the lines on your forehead marring your skin? What on you– about you– detested him? Because if you knew you'd cut it off. You'd change it. You take a knife to your nose and cut it off even if it was just to spite your own face. Now, laying here with him, you wish to be anyone but yourself. Yourself was the woman that disgusted you. It would always be the woman that disgusted you if he didn’t fall in love.

“That's jus’ the thing, Bambi.” He sighed, his mouth moving in a slow hushed mumble. His wind chapped, weathered lips grazed the shell of your ear, “I already do.” Followed by silence, and then: “An’ I ain’t no good at it, I’m afraid.”

That was the problem. Joel thought it had to be a life lived in an entirety of carolling laughter for you. A warm, joyous time. The kind of peace the world seldom granted anyone anymore. Not bound to him by the twine of his selfish nature. In the wrong man’s bed. If the world had told him anything before it was that he deserved to be alone. First Sarah. Then Tess. Ellie too. It was only a matter of time before you left too. He had no clue that what you wanted was just to be held. To be kept. He didn’t have to carve out a hole in himself to accommodate you. Nor give an arm or a limb. He just had to stay. Exactly where he was now. Exactly as he is. But selfish men believe in selfish things. And Joel Miller was a selfish man.

Maybe he wasn't. Humans are, after all, selfish creatures. If we are innately selfish does that make us selfish, or just human. Regardless– Joel was selfish. Yes. But more importantly: He was the damned, the scrutinised, the beggar. All of the above.

Joel Miller was, and forever will be, the fallen.

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bby-grl-4-bucky · 3 months

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I just need some Joel Miller hurt/comfort but all I’m fucking finding in smut :((

#joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #platonic!joel miller #jackson era!joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller comfort

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romanarose · 1 month

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I love Jackson era Joel where him and reader have a baby girl! I do! A lot of TLOU is about fathers and daughters!

It’s so sweet and healing! 10/10!

But the idea of Joel with a son!!!!

Imagine Joel with a son!

#Joel miller #TLOU #the last of us #jackson era Joel

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marvelwitchergilmore · 11 months

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Written In The Stars

Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> It’s Christmas and Joel remembers Sarah and the time before the outbreak.

Disclaimer: established relationship, angst, sad fluff, happy fluff, family dynamic, Ellie and Joel being father and daughter, Sarah, no use of Y/N, tears, Tommy being the annoying uncle (kinda) to Ellie. Also, mentions of Christmas - yes, I know it’s May but who cares.

It wasn’t meant to be like this.

The world wasn’t just meant to end and send him through the ringer for the rest of his life, with the added knowledge that his daughter, his Sarah, would never be able to live again. He’d never be able to watch her grow up, watch her graduate, watch her as she built her own family and career, never watch her even decorate a Christmas tree again.

That was what seemed to pain him most.

Living in Jackson, with his brother, and his second daughter, Ellie, had been quiet. It was kind. Every day became a routine, one that even Ellie had never been able to be a part of before. Joel would walk her to school before going to work himself, he’d tell Tommy to quit the smokes, Maria would then repeat the same. From there, he’d complete his work and patrol for the day before meeting Ellie at home or, more recently, your back garden.

You were one of the teachers at the local school and Ellie had taken a liking to you. Aside from Joel, you seemed to be the only other one Ellie trusted enough to be around without him. Even being around Tommy and Maria made Ellie hesitant. But not you. Never you.

But, as much as these moments seemed to patch something up in Joel, even go as far to fix; something still stabbed at him.

And it nearly killed him when he saw Ellie decorating the Christmas Tree.

Earlier that morning, he’d been completely okay with Ellie starting without him. Besides, by the time he got home from patrol, you, Ellie, Tommy and Maria would have only just started so he wouldn’t have missed too much.

But, as he walked through the door, his arms piled with logs, he felt something crush his heart.

He was happy and content as he saw Ellie knelt by your feet, helping push some of the branches down at the bottom of the tree. This would be her first real Christmas with family and friends. And, still he smiled through the pain.

He smiled and suppressed the tears from his eyes as he watched Ellie’s face light up as she was told all about what Christmases used to be like, before the outbreak. Told about how everyone would go all out, the whole street would join in. Except, as he stood back, looking at the finished product around his home, his heart felt like it was being squeezed by a crushing hand.

Ellie was taking it all in, Tommy was standing beside Maria, and you were standing at the kitchen entryway, watching Ellie’s reaction.

You had seen a similar look on Ellie’s face a thousand times before, but this one was something else, something bigger. Except, when you looked up to look at Joel, he took a step back and made his way towards the door. The other’s didn’t seem to notice. Although, you knew it wouldn’t be long until Ellie did. So, making sure she kept herself distracted for a couple of minutes, you sent her with Tommy back up into the loft to bring down that old Christmas box.

“Maybe it has a Christmas cook book in it, or something.” you offered.

Ellie nodded and got up, Tommy going after her. Meanwhile, Maria headed past you and into the kitchen to check on the Christmas stew she had made earlier.

“Hey, I’ll be back in a minute.” you called out to her as you pulled your coat on.

“Okay!”

It didn’t take you long to find Joel. Ellie had stronger tracking senses for him, but you had yours, too.

Walking up the steps of Tommy and Maria’s house, you tapped the excess snow from your boots and made your way inside. There, you saw the back of Joel as he stood looking at the memorial Maria and Tommy had made when they first moved in together in Jackson.

“Joel?” you called out his name softly as you entered.

You recognised that he knew you were there but the closer you got, the more worried you became. “Joel? Hey, Joel? What is it? What’s wrong?”

One of his hands held him steady against the fireplace whilst the other held his chest. “Nothing. ‘Am fine.”

You shook your head and lay a hand on his arm, “No, Joel. It’s okay. Hey, talk to me.”

He looked at you for a moment before turning his tear stained eyes to his daughter’s name.

“It’s been 21 years,” Joel pointed out. “It shouldn’t…shouldn’t it be easier?”

You looked at Sarah's name, also, before looking back to Joel. You placed your other hand on his other side and turned him to look at you. “Come here,”

You pulled him forward and a second later, his arms wrapped around you as you did to him. “Christmas…it’s a time to remember. Sadly, that sometimes means the pain feels like it’s growing.”

You could feel some of Joel’s tears hit your shoulder, so, gently moving him back, you cupped his cheeks in your hands and wiped the tears away and softly pressed a kiss to his cheek. You both remained comfortably still as he rested his head against yours with his eyes closed, feeling your hands go from his cheeks to his chest where he wrapped one of his hands around one of yours.

“I never…” he swallowed. “I never thought I’d see my…look so happy.”

You smiled as he talked about Ellie.

“She’s your daughter, Joel. They both are.”

Daughter.

That made his heart a little lighter.

“Maybe you should share that with her, with Ellie.” you offered. “My grandmother used to tell me Christmas is the season for memories. Let’s be honest, there is a lot we’d both rather forget but, we’ve got goodness now, Joel. And so has Ellie. Tell her. Tell her about Sarah. Tell her about the sister she never got to meet, because through you?” your other hand came to his cheek again and held his face a little higher so he’d open his eyes and look at you. “Through you she can meet her and you can see her again. When it hurts, don’t let yourself drown in the pain. Tell people. Tell us. We’re all family, Joel. For better or for worse, we’re family. And we’ve all done what we’ve had to do to survive, but you’ve got the opportunity to live Joel. Live for her. Live for your daughters, Joel. Live for yourself.”

You heard Joel take a long breath before he finally nodded and looked at you through semi-clear eyes. You gave him a soft smile which, beneath the underlying sadness, he returned. Gently, you pushed the final few tears from his cheek, gracing it with a kiss before pecking his lips quickly and hugging him.

“Now, come on, let’s go.” you told him. “Before Ellie tracks us down and hits us with an old cookbook.”

“What?”

“Oh, I, uh, I sent her with Tommy into the loft.” you told him as you lay your scarf back around your neck. “Maybe make something this year that isn’t Christmas Stew.”

From behind you, you heard Joel chuckle before he shut the door behind him.

By the time you both got back, Ellie had found some old photo albums from the family that must have lived in the home prior to the break out. Ellie still flipped through them as Tommy and Maria headed back to their own home to go to bed, and, as you stood in the kitchen making some fresh hot cocoa, you heard Ellie ask Joel a question and as you popped your head through the door carrying Ellie’s mug first, you shared a quick look with Joel.

“Tell her. Tell her about Sarah. Tell her about the sister she never got to meet…she can meet her and you can see her again.”

So, leaning forward and sitting himself besides Ellie on the floor, he told her stories of Sarah. He told her of the moments he cherished the most and the moments when Tommy would tease Sarah for her love of Christmas and make sure he moved a decoration every morning that she would always put back, knowing full well he was doing it just to annoy her.

And, funnily enough, the next morning when Ellie came downstairs, she found three separate decorations not in the place where she had left them the night before and Tommy sat at the kitchen table with Joel, trying his best to avoid eye contact.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be like this, having the world end. But having Ellie as a daughter and a niece…that was written in the stars.

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 1 year

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A Sheep Farm on the Moon Masterlist.

Summary When Joel and Ellie wander into Jackson you don’t think they’d be more than a welcome distraction from your chores for a few hours. But between Ellie, a sheep, a bottle of whisky, and that killer smile of his, Jackson might finally start to feel like home.

18+ Minors NDI Smut/porn with plot joel miller is a bad man, joel miller smut, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Pining, Mutual Pining, Dirty Talk, weed, cannabis, Alcohol

Chapter 1 - Whisky [AO3 Link]

Chapter 2 - The Sheep [AO3 Link]

Chapter 3 - His Damned Smile [AO3 Link]

Chapter 4 - Ellie [AO3 Link]

Chapter 5 - Home [AO3 Link]

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loliwrites · 1 month

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YALL I CANNOT.

I should be finishing Fountain of Sorrow or even The One You Need at this point. But, NO

My dumb ass just got done writing a 5.6k word part of a new jackson!joel & sharpshooter!reader WIP. Title pending my overthinking, but I'm working with maybe calling it Edelweiss?

What do we think?

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #jackson era joel

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endlessthxxghts · 28 days

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Set ur alarms for 12pm pst 🩶

Edit: Here u go besties

#joel miller x reader #oneshot coming #endless thoughts fics #jackson era joel #dom!reader #……oops

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penvisions · 10 months

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for the record {a joel miller oneshot}

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader, brief F!Reader x F!OC

Summary: The longer, more dangerous patrol routes around Jackson are designated to you and one Joel Miller. You both have an understanding with each other, talking wasn’t the biggest concern for either of you, but being confident in each other was. He wasn’t a bad friend in your scavenged life, but then again you were beginning to think you didn’t want to be just his friend...and that’s got you more than a little sexually frustrated.

Word Count: 6.3k (idk what happened, y’all)

Warnings: oh lord, okay: implied f/f attraction, implied f/f smut, use of sex toys, masturbation, language, pet names, p in v smut, sexual frustration, pining, mutual pining, reader is a hot mess, no use of y/n

A/N: okay, so this took a wildly different route than i anticipated? but i kinda like the way it turned out. I’m sure some scenes seem disconnected or the characterization doesn’t flow throughout but i got tired of reading and re-reading the entire thing and said ‘eh, it’s as good as it’ll get’. please let me know what y’all think?

Your hands released the hold they had on the lapels of his shirt, moving lower to rip open the snap buttons on his shirt to expose the top of his chest. He didn’t give you the chance to explore as he took your hands in his own and guided them to feel the hard length of him through his jeans. “This what you wanted, what had you so goddamn irritable all those weeks before?” He taunted in your ear, his warm breath on the side of your neck sending shivers down your spine. He twitched underneath your hands, and you felt your underwear dampen even more.

ao3 link || main masterlist

“Ngh, it’s not working.” You whined pathetically, your body shaking on the bed. You were on your knees, face down on your pillows and turned to the side as your hands reached back to hold a pulsing toy to your center. The tingles you were feeling were almost what you wanted but they were weak, not building just fleeting jolts of pleasure teasing you. You felt like a fool with your ass canted in the air, knees spread to give you easier access to your folds, the toy gripped too tight in your hand. With a huff you let yourself crumple to the bed, the sheets making weird lumps underneath your form where it was bunched up from your fidgeting.

Your morning was not going the way you wanted at all…

“Would you shut up.” You couldn’t help the sharpness of your voice. You were so frustrated, everything getting on your nerves. Joel hadn’t meant to push you buttons but he just was. He was a decent friend, though he could be a better one to some people, to his family. He looked up from where he was tethering his horse to the post outside the barn. His gruff, no nonsense attitude getting on your nerves all throughout the day despite normally being able to work with the man. His offhand remark about needing to get home soon and the way he nearly rushed ahead of you with his horse finally being the last straw. As if he was the only one who had shit to do with the rest of his day.

He looked up from the worn leather in his hands to see you tying off your own horse before going over to the woman who watched over the horses with measured steps. He wasn’t sure what he said to illicit such words from you but he didn’t let them get to him, he could ignore you just as you had ignored him most of the day. It was a mutual clashing of gruff nature that happened from time to time.

The woman was listening to you talk about how you were worried about Peaches having stumbled over some rocks in the river you passed over on your patrol, suddenly nice and friendly after being surly and quiet the entire route. The woman was watching the way you brushed your hand over the neck of the horse, running your fingers through the mane to work out the tangles.

Joel took in the way your hands lingered over hers when she offered you a brush to work the bigger knots out. The bloom of color on the woman’s face had him looking to your face where a small, knowing smile had graced your lips. You leaned closer to her, bringing her had with the brush to where your other one was tangled in the horses mane, “There’s some tension right about….here.”

Joel was mesmerized by the way you were interacting with her, he had never seen you so forward. The flustered giggle from the woman who had your attention that sounded in the air was a good enough sign to shove off. The heat in your eyes another as he glanced at you one last time was another. He was struck by the way his mind supplied the word beautiful as he took in the way you filled out your tight jeans and simple white tank top, allowing for your tan to be seen by anyone around. Your hair was mused from beneath that damn wide brimmed hat you wore to keep the sun out of your face on patrol, the deep green of it looking good paired with your long curls pulled into a braid.

He walked off, trying not to let his gaze rove over you in a way that could be described as lingering.

A few hours later, after his shower and a small nap, as he sat on his porch with a cup of coffee. He was enjoying the quiet of the waning day, the sun beginning its descent toward the horizon when your front door opened just a few yards away. The woman from the stables lingered on the porch, her hands in her pockets as she spoke in a hushed tone. You were barely visible from his vantage, though he could see an arm leaning against the frame of the door and your long locks loose as you nodded before saying something that had the other girl blushing bright red before leaving. Once she was down the street and out of view you moved to sit in one of the chairs you had out on the porch.

You ran your hands roughly down your face, a deep sigh falling from your lips. You knew you should go back inside and put proper clothes on if you were going to be out here, anyone could walk by and see you in your sleep shorts and the bralette you had worn underneath your tank top earlier. Bruises from the day littered your skin, two newer ones blossomed red on your collarbone: a telltale sign of how you spent your afternoon.

You had managed to make sure one of you had a good time, the girl too inexperienced to return the favor. But she had been such a pretty little mess begging for your touch that it hadn’t been a complete failure. The pleasure from spending a few hours in bed with the woman simmered just beneath your skin, the breeze sweeping through the valley Jackson resided in bringing goosebumps out on your limbs.

You felt eyes on your form, and you turned to look at the house to your left, the one on the right had yet to be assigned to anyone. And of course, it was Joel Miller out on his porch, staring right at you. His hair was tousled from sleep, a lax air about him as he seemed to still be getting his bearings after his slumber.

He was in a t-shirt and sweatpants, the shirt trying its best to contain his arms as he cradled a steaming mug in his large hands. Not breaking eye contact, he brought the mug up to take a sip, his lips curling over the porcelain and catching your eye. You watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he lowered the mug to rest on a knee, his tongue peaking out to catch an errant drop of whatever he was drinking.

Before you could even register it, you were up out of your chair and making your way down the three steps to your porch. A bare foot had just stepped into the grass when the small figure of Ellie popped through the front door, a holler about dinner being ready loud from her as she brandished a wooden spoon at Joel. He tore his eyes from you, all his attention focused on his daughter as he stood.

Your eyes watched as he did so, the sweatpants doing either the devil or god’s work you weren’t sure. The thick fabric made his figure look broad, his thighs strong as he stood, the waistband was low on his hips. But it was the unmistakable bulge you had seen as he stood up that had made your mouth go dry and your skin buzz. With an embarrassed huff you turned on your heel and ran back into the safety of your house.

You could not believe you had just been about to jump Joel Miller. The man had been minding his own business on his own porch. In broad daylight. You needed to handle this, it was getting out of hand.

“Do you mind giving Joel a hand today? He needs-“ Tommy approached your spot in the dining hall, mug of steaming coffee in his hand and a loaded plate that he placed beside you.

“I do.” You cut off the chipper looking younger Miller man, not meaning to sound so mean towards him.

“Uh, well, I can’t help him today and-“

“Tommy, I can’t work with him today. You had me with him on patrol yesterday.”

“Did y’all get into a fight or somethin’? You’re normally so willing to help around where it’s needed and you two get along better than most.” He set down the fork he was using to eat with beside his plate before giving you his full, concerned attention. It was breakfast time in the dining hall, you had just walked in to get a couple fruits before disappearing for the day but had decided to sit at the absence of a particular older man.

“Just need the day to myself.”

“….everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’ve just been…a little short with everyone lately.”

“Everything’s fine.” You stood abruptly as you spied a broad figure making its way to you and Tommy, not even thinking about how you hadn’t even touched your own plate yet. You scrambled over the bench seat and took off out the door before Joel even set his plate down on the other side of the table.

“Well, alright then.” He huffed as he settled in for his meal.

“What’d you do?”

“What the hell are you goin’ on about? I didn’t do a damn thing to that woman.”

Tommy watched his brother over his mug, bringing it up to take a sip from it. He watched the way Joel turned to watch your form disappear through the front door. Brows furrowed and a frown settling in place.

“She didn’t even let me finish asking her to help you out today before she was sayin’ no and then she saw you comin’ this way and took off. Something happen on patrol?”

“She was huffin’ and puffin’ all day but seemed fine once we were back in town. Chatted up the girl at the stables just fine.”

Tommy took a bite of his food, pensive. Joel stabbed his fork into his own food, it was way too early in the day to be dealing with whatever was going on you.

Neither brother saw you for a few days. You had traded the rest of the week’s patrols you’d been assigned in exchange for the coffee you hoarded in your cabinet. People willing to make the trade even if you didn’t give them reason as to why. You had holed up in your room, taken root in your bed and just wallowed. You were fully aware of how pathetic the whole situation was. But you couldn’t face Joel or the nice girl, Stella, from the stables.

The patrol this morning was early, early enough to avoid one of the people you were avoiding. Unfortunately, the trek to Teton village was one that select people were allotted. It was an overnight one, the longest and one of the most dangerous. You and Joel being the only people without time restrictions due to other responsibilities around the town. You were just finishing up saddling up the two horses and led them outside as Joel approached. As he made his way down the street, you mounted up, ready to get the day started. If he was surprised to see you or that you had done up his horse for him, he didn’t show it as he took the reigns you held out to him.

He nodded at you, his fingers brushing up against your own as he did so. You pulled your hand back as if you had been burned and clicked to get your horse moving.

“Hey, just wanted to check in with ya,” Joel looked over his shoulder toward you, your horse was trailing behind his. The morning was quiet, the sun had risen completely and the forest was quiet. “Normally you’ve gone on about somethin’ or other by now but you’ve been sulking. Somethin’ wrong?”

“Just don’t feel good.” Was your gruff answer, unwilling to entertain conversation. You didn’t know why he was so concerned, somedays it was just like this. Either he had too much on his mind or you did and there was an understanding about it. You didn’t expect him to direct his horse to stop, making you do the same. He turned a bit more to face you in his saddle, brows furrowed in worry. His big brown eyes held a little too much emotion as he gazed at you. Your body deciding to take whatever it could from him, and you felt yourself get slick at his attention.

“You can tell me what it is, maybe I can-“

“It’s girl stuff, leave me alone.” You clicked to signal your horse into movement, going around him and continuing on your way. You shifted in the saddle, the friction of the seam of your jeans making you feel a little crazed and you tried to adjust.

The rest of the ride up to the cabin had been going okay… until a group of four raiders has decided to ambush you and Joel. It had been a quiet moment, just trekking through the woods when a shot rang out and your horse began bucking. You had tried to keep balance, but the creature was hurt and panicked. When you had tried to climb down you had been tossed a bit. You hadn’t been off the horse for a second before two men had come out from the trees and grabbed you, two more going for Joel on his horse. You had tried not to scream, but you were positive terror had taken over you as their hands had gripped you in places they had no business touching under the guise of retraining you.

He had killed every one of them, in such a quick and efficient way. His chest had been heaving with his actions, arms roped in veins where you could see the skin of his forearms, his hands clutched tight over the handle of a blade and a gun. His hair had gotten wild, waves that would surely turn into curls if it were longer in disarray from someone trying to choke him out. There was blood splatter along his neck and up on his cheek and you practically flinched when he placed the weapons back where they belonged on his person and leaned down a bit to reach a hand to you.

“Don’t- don’t touch me.” You stuttered as you backed up, palms up to keep him at bay. You were past anger and frustration, it was only ever going to get you so far. You were feeling desperation crawl like ice through your veins. The only thing that would bring warmth back to you was his touch, but it would light a fire in you that you weren’t sure you were strong enough to fight off.

“What are you goin’ on about? You afraid of me now?” He stayed where he was but brought his hand back to rest on his hip. “You seen me in action before.”

Maybe it was the way his eyes were dark in the shade of the tree canopy or the thrill of having taken out a threat. Maybe it was the way he always looked so goddamn good up on a horse, his thick thighs looking strong and sturdy as he guided the animal across the terrain. Maybe it was the way he was standing, one leg slightly popped out, hands on his hips and head canted down to gaze at you, an eyebrow raised in a slightly teasing manner.

Maybe it was the way you were on the ground, hands holding you up as your legs were spread out before you from your fall. Chest pushed out slightly from your shoulders holding you up, heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You felt desire hot in your entire body as you stared up at his broad form, his shadow falling over you. You licked your lips and were about to tell him off again but something flared in his eyes and-

“I’m not afraid of you, I wanna fuck you!” The words rushed out of your mouth before you could even think.

Joel didn’t say anything, he just continued to stare at you. You were sure your face was flushed a deep crimson; it was certainly burning enough to be. Your skin was alight, your entire body humming as the words had crawled their way from where they had dug themselves deep in your middle, had been consuming you from the inside out. They had been fleeting before but decided to make you their new home and filled every nook and cranny of your body, not giving you a moment of rest since they had solidified. You don’t know how long they had been forming but you didn’t really want to find out how long they had been whispering over your skin, your mind.

When he finally moved, you flinched. Even though he walked away from you and mounted his horse, your body pressed further into the dirt. He didn’t so much as glance at you as he guided his horse back the way you had just come, abandoning the rest of the patrol as he headed back toward town.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Tommy’s voice was booming as the man descended from where he had been keeping watch atop the gate as you entered through back into the safety of town. “I’ve been waiting for you all fuckin’ day since my dumbass brother got back! He made it seem like the raiders got you.”

You were quiet, gently walking beside the injured horse and guiding it back to the stables. You felt completely rejected. You had been left on the fucking ground after being ambushed. Injured in more ways that just physical, you ignored the frantic panic of the man following after you, demanding answers from you. And you knew it was petty, you knew it was unprofessional, but you couldn’t help it. You were shutting down, back to how you had been when you first arrived. It was better to be alone. You’d learned your lesson.

“Are you gonna answer me? You both broke protocol and scared the shit out of everyone! Please just say something, anything!”

“Finished patrol. Ran into raiders two miles from the cabin. Your brother got injured and turned back. I cleared the cabin, there were a few infected. Took longer traveling because Peaches is injured. I’ll fill out a report.”

“He said you got thrown off your horse and they dragged you away. Said he tried everything but had to come back.”

“If that’s what he said happened, then that’s what happened.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your brother is a piece of fucking work, do not put me with him again. So help me, I’ll pack up and leave if you make me work with him in any capacity from here on out.”

You could tell your harsh words stunned him; he had stopped in his efforts to follow your gaited movements. You continued on to the stables. You explained in clipped words to Stella what had happened to Peaches, ignoring the way her eyes were lingering on you and her hands kept brushing against your own.

You stalked away from the interaction, legs heavy and your entire back hurting from where you had landed after your sudden dismount. You could tell your whole left side was already bruised, scrapes having bled into the fabric of your flannel and stained it for anyone to see. You pulled your hat lower over your brow when you spotted an all too familiar figure on the porch of the house next to yours.

You felt a heavy gaze follow you as you passed the house and made it up the short walkway to your porch. Your foot faltered as you picked it up to ascend the few steps leading up to your own porch and front door. Your foot didn’t land, the front of your boot collided with the step and your body fell forward.

You couldn’t help the pained yelp that pushed itself from your throat as your back pulled from the effort to throw your hands out to catch yourself.

You don’t know how he managed to close the distance so quickly or why, but Joel was suddenly hovering over you, hands helping to hold you up. His fingers were spread wide to not put too much pressure on any one spot, he had seen the blood and dirt marring you the second the commotion had stopped earlier on the trail.

“Leave me alone.” You pushed his hands from you, ignoring the way they sparked electricity on your skin over where they rested on your shirt. You stood back up, leaning heavily on the railing and practically pulled yourself up the steps.

“Look-“

“I said leave me alone. You made it clear how you feel when you left me on the fucking trail.” You moved as fast as your body would allow you up the steps and through the front door. You slammed it in the pinched face of one Joel Miller without a second thought. You leaned back on it, chest heaving as you realized tears had sprung up once again. A sob wracked your body and you brought your hands up to cover your mouth as more followed.

You didn’t just want him to fuck you. You wanted him.

You were put on different patrol rotations, Tommy taking the longer and more difficult routes you had fallen into with his older brother again. You were paired with younger people, those who were new to patrol, or had less experience and needed to be with someone who could make better decisions. It was easy to go into training mode and give them the run down, tell them the way things need to be done and why. It didn’t give you time or energy to think about anything else. That happened when you were safely back at home in the confines of your room.

Stella, bless her heart, still lingered when it came to you, her smiles quick and her voice chipper. But you just returned her attention with polite smiles and tips of your hat. It was late, the sun dipping down below the horizon as you closed off Peaches pen, who had made a full recovery from a few weeks ago.

While a sigh, you directed your route toward the center of town. You hadn’t been out in weeks, opting to keep to yourself if you weren’t on patrol. The help you had been lending to the Miller brothers and their building had ceased. Neither of them had confronted you, Maria had dropped by a few times to check on you. You had been cordial, offering her coffee it was the morning or dinner if it was the evening. She seemed content to just share the space with you, taking what you could give even if you were quiet or only made small talk concerning those you were training.

A drink sounded nice tonight, maybe a meal you hadn’t made yourself.

An hour later you were pleasantly tipsy and dancing in the arms of one of the younger patrolmen. He had nervously asked if you could teach him some steps to impress the girl he had his eye on and the alcohol in your system had you saying yes before you could think better of it.

A few songs later and you were pulling Stella from where she was at a table with her friends up into your arms and guiding her through some faster steps. She was all giddy laughter, bright smiles, and wandering hands. You leaned in close and murmured apologies to her and asked if she was okay with just being friends, genuinely apologetic for how you had been treating her. With a parting kiss to her cheek, you set her back with her friends and took off toward the door.

You settled on the bench that was a little ways from the door and pulled a rolled cigarette from where it was tucked into the ribbon that wound around the base of your hat. You lit it and took a long drag, unaware of the door opening behind you. You were so lost in thought that you nearly jumped out of your skin when someone plopped down beside you, their knee knocking into your own.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Nah, just me. But you’d think I’d be the devil with the way you been ignoring me”

No. No no no. Not that voice, that deliciously low southern drawl. The cigarette fell from between your fingers, landing on your thigh to burn a hole through the denim and smart your skin.

“Fuck!” You scrambled up, brushing frantically at the singed fabric to get the heat out. The liquor decided at that precise moment to take you over from pleasantly tipsy to uncoordinated tipsy and you stumbled over your feet. You landed hard on your ass, hat falling to the dirt beside you. When you looked up, Joel Miller was staring at you with an amused smile. It was a soft look on him, his eyes glittering in the lights hung up around the square as he looked down from where he remained on the bench.

Embarrassment flared hot over your face, the scene too close to the last time you had really interacted with the man. But this time he wasn’t borderline glaring at you. He was casual, relaxed, surely he was tipsy too. To be interacting with you, to be so easy going with you. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, if he hadn’t been tucking tail to run at the sight of you, you were doing so when you noticed him.

“I’ll walk you home, was callin’ it a night anyway.” He seemed to temper for a moment, brow furrowing as he contemplated his next words. “My entertainment for the night decided it was time for the show to end.”

Your waning flush darkened again, at the insinuation that he had been watching you dance the whole night. You don’t know what compelled you to take his hand when he offered it to you this time, as he stood from the bench and leaned over your still fallen form.

Maybe it was the way he was trying, the way he was talking as if nothing had happened, that you hadn’t totally ruined the tolerance boarding on friendly acquaintance you both had found in each other since day one. Maybe it was the way he picked up your hat and placed it gently back on your head, because he knew how important it was to you. Or the way that his hand was so warm as it clasped over your own.

Maybe it was the way that this is how things went with you, someone did something stupid or fucked up in the heat of the moment and it wasn’t talked about after some time and things went back to being okay.

Maybe it was in the way it seemed he almost missed you, or the way that you certainly had missed him.

“Stubborn girl, let me help you.” His voice had turned husky as he closed you in between his broad chest and the door. His warm hands came up and wrapped around your trembling ones, taking the keys from you with ease. He leaned forward a bit more, his hips connecting with your backside as he unlocked the door. He didn’t turn the knob or go to push it open, just breathing in the scent of honey and vanilla that mingled with the twang of whiskey on your skin.

“It didn’t bother me, what you said.” He seemed hesitant to bring the event of all those weeks ago from the middle of summer to the present. It wasn’t how either of you dealt with things, opting to push things deep down and ignore them until they didn’t really matter in the face of everyday issues. His hands were clenching in a pattern at his sides, his tick for when he was nervous. “For the record.”

“Figured you didn’t want me around because it did bother you, that way you didn’t have to deal with me anymore. You made it clear you don’t feel any way about me.”

“Is that why you been ignorin’ me?” Joel’s smoldering gaze watched as you lifted the hat to rest on a hook by the door, there was something behind his eyes you couldn’t quit make out when you turned back around to face him. “Because that’s not the case and you know it. You’re one of the only people in this town that doesn’t make me feel pushed or pressured to be anything. You let me just be me, even if I’m not the best a lot of the time.”

“Leave me alone,” The same last words you had spit at him all those weeks ago fell from your lips again unbidden. You weren’t even sure if you meant them anymore. But if you repeated them, maybe he would realize you meant the opposite. You didn’t intend for your voice to lilt the way that it did but of course he caught onto it. The way you didn’t deny anything he just confessed to you. It made him feel a little brave, it made him take a step closer to you. You mirrored his movement, your body crowding the back of the couch.

“You weren’t the only one with who was frustrated, darlin’. Had to see you take that poor girl to bed only to get nothin’ out of it.”

A weird whine sounded from you as his words brought the frustration of not being to find release for weeks now back to the forefront of your mind. Your skin buzzing with the intention behind his words.

Maybe it was the liquor in his system or the liquor in yours, but the room became charged almost as if a switch had been flipped now that you both understood the other. Your eyes dilated at the move he had taken toward you, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. He took another step and felt himself harden completely in his jeans as his nerves lit up. You weren’t really telling him to leave, and he really wanted to find out what you tasted like after all this time.

“Well would you look at that, you went from all riled up to whinin’ in two seconds flat.”

“Shu-shut up!”

“Oh darlin’, you’re all bark and no bite right now.” To emphasize his point he leaned over you and placed his hands atop the back of the couch, caging your body between him and the piece of furniture. You didn’t move an inch, every muscle in your body locked up as the heat of him standing so close. The smell of him so close. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you were sure he could hear it in the quiet of your living room if the soft grin on his face was any indication.

Your eyes were trained on his own, the taunting glint you saw had you moving before you even realized.

Your hands shot out to grip the lapels of his damned, snug denim shirt and you pulled him down enough to sink your teeth underneath his jawline. He let out a guttural moan as his hands flew to grip the flare of your hips tight, body pressing into yours and pinning you to the back of the couch from the waist down. You soothed the bite with the flat of your tongue before moving sucking kisses down the column of his throat. Your hands released the hold they had on the lapels of his shirt, moving lower to rip open the snap buttons on his shirt to expose the top of his chest.

He didn’t give you the chance to explore as he took your hands in his own and guided them to feel the hard length of him through his jeans.

“This what you wanted, what had you so goddamn irritable all those weeks before?” He taunted in your ear, his warm breath on the side of your neck sending shivers down your spine. He twitched underneath your hands, and you felt your underwear dampen even more.

You could only nod as you captured his lips with your own in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue tasted of whiskey as he licked into your mouth. Your hands quickly relieved him of his belt, the clinking of it drowned out by the heavy breaths…

“F-uck…you’re takin’ me so well,” He used the momentum of resting his forearms down by your head to grind his hips into you. The head of his cock sent a cascade of white pleasure over you as it stimulated your g-spot.

“’m close, Joel, please.” You begged, you begged for the release that was so close, that was coiled so tight in your middle it was bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. He continued to grind into you, his lips coming to press sucking kisses along your collarbone. He bit down hard and it sent you over the edge as the pain sparked low in your core. Your muscles tensed, you could feel yourself clenching him tightly where he moved inside you, working you through your orgasm. A stuttered sound rumbled deep in his chest as his grinding turned into fast, hard thrusts.

He hauled you up, bringing your blissed out form flush against his chest as he sat up on his knees. You whimpered as you felt another orgasm build at an alarming rate. You clenched your knees around his waist and moved down against him, chasing it as he continued to chase his own. His hands were on your hips almost painfully tight, where he helped to pull you down as he thrust up into you. The sound of skin on skin was loud in the room, the bed frame creaking as you both took what you needed from each other.

“C’mon, give me another, sweet girl,” He curled his arms underneath your armpits to rest his palms on your shoulders and used them to bring your hips down to meet his with even more delicious friction.

“Haah, Joel, I- I can’t.” You dug your nails into his own shoulders, pulling a growl from him as the feeling went straight to his cock buried deep inside you.

“You were so desperate for it for so long, yes you can, give it to me sweet girl,” He snaked a hand down to rub two fingers over your clit in small circles. You choked on a moan that ripped from your throat as white spots danced across your vision. The clench of your third orgasm milking Joel’s out of him. His hips stuttered as hot ropes of his release filled you up, some of it dribbling down his length where it began to leak out of you.

He moaned at the sight, resting his forehead against yours as you both panted.

An alarm blaring had you beginning to stir, the sheets tangling around you as you twisted to reach for the clock on the bedside table. When you flopped back on the bed facing away from it, your bleary eyes feel on the already awake form of Joel. His eyes were serious as he watched you settle back into the bed. He almost looked wrecked and that had you shooting up on your arms and moving as close to him as possible.

“What’s wrong?” You brought your hands to cradle his face, fingers brushing underneath his conflicted eyes.

“You were still on the ground and I just… I just fuckin’ left you there without a word.”

You felt your chest thud at the pain of the memory, the one that plagued your restless nights as summer had droned on and waned. It had faded to a facet of life, something that had once happened. Sometimes it was heavier than others.

“…it wasn’t the best reaction.”

“That’s one of the worst things I’ve done since comin’ here.” He confessed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his head. You just tightened your arms around him, comforting him as he worked through it. His voice cracked on his next words. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, I’ll carry that with me until I die.”

You both laid there, wrapped up in each other and whispered words of apology to each other. For the things you’ve done to each other to the things that have happened to each other. Comfort turned into promises and promises turned into kisses.

After getting showered and dressed, you walked to the stables together. Sharing a thermos of hot coffee, the steam rising to keep your faces warm in the face of approaching autumn. You were mid laugh when Joel raised his hands to cradle your face and pepper kisses over your face, stopping right there in the middle of the street in the early morning. Chuckles in between kisses had your heart racing in your chest.

When you both rounded the side of the stables there were already two horses saddled and a waiting Tommy at the gate to the outside pen beside it. He crossed his arms and walked passed you two with a simple, “Y’all are fuckin’ idiots. You know that?”

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softpascalito · 5 months

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Christmas Baking- Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You're using your time off in Jackson to prepare for the holidays with some baking. Joel involuntarily joins. full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: another lil moodboard today, fic will follow soon <3

#pedropascaladventcalender #joel miller #joel miller / reader #joel miller / you #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel / reader #tlou #the last of us #jackson era #mb #moodboard #pedro pascal

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youwouldntdownloadapizza · 3 months

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter 3

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.1k

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, violence towards children, nightmares

Chapter 3

By the time you descended the ladder, Joel had everything set up. A clean, if dusty and threadbare, blanket was spread before the fireplace. He’d managed to get the fire going, and while it hadn’t reached a roar, it was plenty hot enough to heat some cans for dinner.

“What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, gesturing between two cans with a pilfered can opener. “I’ve got alphabet soup or beefy ravioli.”

“Ravioli, please,” you said decisively, taking a seat beside him on the blanket. It took a second of him staring at you expectantly for you to realize he was holding out your selection. You took it and dug in.

“Holy shit,” you nearly moaned, the zing of 20-year-old marinara a delight to tired taste buds.

“That good, huh?” Joel asked.

You nodded–yeah, it was really that good.

“Maybe Ellie’s onto something,” he chuckled, digging into his own dinner. You cocked an eyebrow. He elaborated, “She’s big on Chef Boyardee, too. Who knew he’d have so many fans in the apocalypse?”

“I don’t know,” you joked. “Fungal pandemics come and go, but pasta is forever.”

He laughed mid-chew, snorting so effusively a J-shaped piece of pasta landed at your feet.

“Huh,” you said. “J for Joel.”

You ate the rest of your food in relative silence, the levity of the first few bites subsiding once you realized how hungry you truly were.

A few minutes later, you set your empty can on the hearth with a clatter. “I’m gonna turn in.”

Joel nodded. “I’ll take first watch. Good night, Doe.”

“Night, Joel.”

Upon further inspection, the puke-covered couch appeared to convert into a mostly unscathed bed. It felt almost wrong to tuck yourself beneath such cozy bedding in your filthy patrol clothes. Especially since you had to be ready to spring into action at any moment, which meant your shoes stayed on too. But it’s not like there were other options. You lay your head atop the impossibly fluffy pillow, and let your eyes fall shut. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

* * *

You only ever saw Steffy in your dreams anymore. Your baby sister had been there for the collapse of the Salt Lake City QZ, escaping alongside you. But somewhere between fleeing and finding yourself at the gates of Jackson, you’d lost her. You’re not sure what happened exactly, but the dread in the pit of your stomach left no room for wondering: Steffy was dead.

She was alive right now, though. You were little again, sitting on the terracotta tiles of your Aunt Suzie’s back porch. It was summer, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the magnolia tree above you.

While the adults grilled, you and Steffy had a tea party. All the best dolls were invited, teddy bears too. Even Steffy’s favorite, a bedraggled rat plushie named Ratty.

“Ratty wants Earl Grey,” Steffy said, holding out a tiny teacup and saucer.

“Why, of course,” you replied in a bad British accent, pretending to pour him a cup.

Steffy made Ratty drink the whole cup in one gulp. “Dee-licious.”

You giggled. She giggled. It was contagious, the two of you devolving into downright guffaws when you noticed the adults’ chatter had stopped. Looking over your sister’s shoulder, your face fell.

“What’s wrong?” Steffy asked with a tilt of her head.

You wanted to tell her to run. You wanted to tell her to get behind you, that something was wrong. But you were frozen.

That’s when the clicker sunk its teeth into her neck.

You woke with a start, flailing wildly, arm connecting with something hard, something that let out an ‘oof’ in response. Joel. You had hit Joel. Based on the proximity, you guessed he was trying to wake you.

“Sorry,” you panted, heart still racing from your dream. “Time for my watch?”

“No,” you could barely make out the shake of his head against what was left of the dying firelight. “It’s only been a couple hours. You were flailin’ about, looked like you were having a nightmare.”

“Oh,” you said. “Thank you. I’m fine now.”

“If you’re sure,” he said. “I’m here, y’know. If you want to… talk about it, or anything.”

You were still shaky. Your heart was still going so fast. But you weren’t about to discuss your dead sister with Joel Miller.

“I’m fine.” You doubled down, softer than you meant to.

“Okay,” he backed off, returning to his spot leaned up against the fireplace, eyes on the door.

Minutes passed, and your heart was still racing. Your hand throbbed, and you wondered how hard you’d hit Joel. Hopefully not hard enough to leave a mark.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” you said softly through the darkness.

“It’s fine, Doe. You were dreaming.”

You hated the way he brushed away your concerns, the way he gave you grace. In your experience, people rarely let others off the hook, not really. There was always some resentment that lingered.

If you were going to owe him, you might as well really owe him.

“Joel?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“I can’t sleep,” you confessed.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about that.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself to ask for what you wanted. “Will you cuddle with me? It’s not you, it’s just…I need another person. We’re safe here, we don’t need a watch, not really. And I need you.”

“Thought you said it wasn’t personal.”

“It’s not,” you bristled. “But I thought it would be nice.”

“Never said it wouldn’t be, sweetheart.”

You lay there expectantly for what felt like ages. Then, finally, you heard the squeak of old floorboards under his boots, and felt the squish of the mattress as he climbed onto it beside you. You found a position easily, one arm beneath your head, his other loosely draped across your waist.

Your heart slowed marginally, but your breathing remained fast and light.

“Relax, sweetheart. You gotta breathe.”

“I can’t–” you started. He cut you off with a hand to your stomach.

“You can.” He pulled you back against him gently, not so tight you were crushed, but just enough for you to feel the expanding and contracting of his own breath against your back. “Breathe with me, alright?”

You nodded with a shuddering breath. He tapped your stomach lightly with his thumb. You matched his inhale, breathing deeply and resenting the fact that this shit works every goddamn time. Within a few minutes, you were calm. Or as calm as you were going to get, anyway.

“I get them too, you know,” Joel admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were still pulled close against him, neither of you having made a move to scramble apart once your breathing returned to normal. At his admission, you relaxed into him fully, taking his free hand in yours.

Before you knew it, you were asleep once more, dreamless and deep, held safe and secure in the warmth of Joel’s embrace.

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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling.

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy.

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it.

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way.

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up.

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs.

Liam folds.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants.

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat.

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.”

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.”

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak.

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?”

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.”

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins.

“Fuck you, Miller.”

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.”

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes.

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.”

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.”

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.”

“You should’ve thought of that before.”

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.”

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?”

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.”

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.”

“You can’t leave, where would you go?”

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world.

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes.

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing.

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color.

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded.

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate.

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart.

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything.

And it seemed like you were no exception.

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners.

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear.

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.”

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there.

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam.

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much.

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self.

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another.

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel.

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down.

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.”

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you.

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.”

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?”

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow.

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.”

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.”

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue.

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?”

“God, yes.”

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard.

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most.

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.”

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion.

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed.

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?”

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?”

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.”

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage.

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue.

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight.

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin.

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.”

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?”

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.”

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You sink to your knees immediately after that.

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek.

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks.

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.”

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.”

“Get on with it then.”

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock.

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth.

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.”

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass.

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—”

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses.

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.”

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.”

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.”

“Is this pussy mine?”

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.”

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning.

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?”

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!”

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking.

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger.

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?”

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust.

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words.

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously.

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?”

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.”

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.”

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him.

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.”

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.”

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!”

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you.

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!”

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself.

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.”

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful.

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone.

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—”

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out.

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips.

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls.

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.”

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss.

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss.

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?”

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you.

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm.

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides.

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together.

“I think he left, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.”

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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joelsgreys · 12 days

Text

flutter

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner.

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair.

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?”

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten.

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home.

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains.

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: snapshots

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