#Pedro Pascal Joel

[auteurdelabre]

Something to Fight For (Series) (PART 3)

Word Count: 7.7

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warnings: This is saccharine slice of life with smut and a Soft!Joel. You have been warned. There is swearing, there is smut, but when it gets to those chapters you will have plenty of warning. (That is if there is interest in my story!)

A/N: This is part of a series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

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The bus groans the curb at the end of Rancher Street, the doors hissing as they open. 

It's embarrassing to be taking a bus to a fucking babysitting job at your age. Equally embarrassing to not have a vehicle in the first place because your ex boyfriend convinced you he needed it more for his gigs and since you were dating and in love at the time, you'd readily accepted that reasoning. 

You step off the bus, walking hurriedly up the suburban street with your purse over one shoulder and a Wal-Mart bag in your right hand. 

A few houses are bustling with laughing kids, not surprisingly so given that it's the start of a lazy Texas fall. They chase each other squealing with delight. Others are playing hide and seek. You smile at this before looking into your purse at the sound of your phone ringing. 

"Hey Mom, what's up?"

"Hi bug," comes your mother's tired voice on the other end of the line. Immediately you tense, the fatigue clear in her tone. Instinctively you’ve curled into yourself, as if the weight of her words will cause a physical strike.

"Is everything okay?"

"Got a bit of good news," she assures you with a soft sigh. "Doctor says maybe April, maybe. But that's only if. . . You know."

"Yeah, I know."

There's a long pause in which you can hear the static sound of hospital beeps and intercoms. Then her voice is back, fainter than before. 

"Do you think you might come visit?"

You lower the phone from your ear, unable to listen to this request. The same request you've received for the last eight months. The same request you’ve denied over and over.

"I don't think it's a good idea," you say when you finally bring the phone back to your ear. The house’s address glints in the fading sunlight, drawing your attention. "Anyway, I gotta go to work. Love you."

You close your cell phone before she even has the chance to say goodbye. With a hollow feeling in your stomach you focus on the note you'd written yourself with Joel's address, double checking you’ve got the right place. 

You look up to see a modest looking home with dark yellow exterior and white accents. For some reason this strikes you as odd, not meshing with the vision you have of the man. 

The lawn is well maintained, the porch sturdy and polished looking. This doesn't surprise you given his career. There is a rocking chair out the front porch and you imagine Joel sitting there and scaring all the neighborhood children. 

You knock on the heavy wooden door feeling strangely out of place. You're still not sure why Joel wanted you of all people to babysit Sarah. Joel with his strict adherence to all things his way or the highway. 

You hear heavy footsteps over creaking wood floors approaching the door and you subconsciously tense.

Joel opens the door wide and you note that with his hair slicked back from the shower, curling past his ears he resembles his younger brother more. He's dressed in dark slacks and a white button down. A narrow black tie hangs loosely at his lean throat. You'd say he cleans up nice but under all of that he's still annoying Joel Miller. 

He eyes the Wal-Mart bag in your hand with suspicion before darting his dark eyes back to your face. 

"What's in there?"

"Crayons, coloring books," you glance into the plastic bag to remind yourself. "Snacks. Water."

"You think I don't have those things here?" Joel says in a voice that sounds neither amused or irritated. 

“Never been here," you shrug. "Wasn't sure what to expect."

He says nothing more but his broad shouldered frame recedes back, allowing you space to enter. You walk over the threshold, your eyes scanning his place. 

The house looks like every other box home on the street, which surprises you. You'd assumed that as a carpenter there would be more artistic touches like in Frank and Bill's home. 

It's more nondescript with dark burgundy walls and a kitchen table littered with mail and that mornings cereal bowls (you pray it's from that morning). Joel seems to notice your gaze because he promptly reaches over and takes them to the sink. 

"Sarah goes to bed at seven thirty. She's already in her pyjamas. All she needs is to brush her teeth." Joel is rinsing the bowls and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Snacks are in there.” He points to the tall pantry door. "And I've left my cell, her doctor's number and Tommy's, not that it'll do you any good because he's an island away on some romantic retreat. Anything goes wrong you call me." 

You nod, your attention drawn to studying your surroundings. This place seems too domestic, almost bland. After a cursory look around you decide that it doesn't fit Joel. 

But then again what does? A funeral home? A crypt?

"Shouldn't be home too late," Joel mutters, wiping his damp hands on the fuzzy hand towel hanging from the arm of the stove.

"Okay." You think of his meeting he’s going to tonight. "Good luck with the bid."

"Thanks," Joel says distractedly moving to the bottom of the stairs and calling up. "Sarah! The candy lady is here!"

He must see the confusion on your face because an uncharacteristic smirk is tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"She's been talking about her friend 'the candy lady' every day since she met you," he explains. "Guess you made an impression." 

You realize now that this is why Joel wanted you to babysit. Because Sarah won't stop talking about you. You feel strangely touched by that, given that you'd only interacted with her for ten minutes.

You have no time to respond to Joel because Sarah is at the top of the stairs in dolphin pyjamas’ and her freshly washed hair in plaited pigtails. When she sees you her face breaks into a wide smile. 

"You're here!"

Holdig the railing she climbs down the stairs as fast as her short legs will allow. You can't help but find her enthusiasm endearing. She stands in front of you seconds later, her cheeks flushed with delight. Her mouth is smeared with that looks like blue icing. In one hand she holds the infamous toad, the other stretches out to you. 

"Wanna play Barbies?"

"Not so fast," Joel says as he drops to his knees, capturing her eyes with his as he uses the hand towel to wipe away the icing at the curve of her mouth. "You be good, huh?"

"Yes Daddy," Sarah says but her eyes are on you, distracted. "I have a mermaid Barbie and ---"

"Sarah," Joel says bringing her attention back to him with his tone. "You listen to her and you go to bed when you're supposed to or there's no park tomorrow. Love you." 

He presses a kiss to the top of her head and pauses when Sarah presses a small hand to his elbow and holds up toad. 

"Don't forget, daddy."

Joel gives a short sigh before giving toad a peck on the top of his fuzzy head. You hold in a smirk at this. 

"G'night toad. Make sure Sarah brushes her teeth."

Joel stands, shaking his head amused when Sarah immediately turns her attention back to you almost shouting your name.

"Want me to show you my toys?"

"Sure," you say allowing her to take your hand and guide you into the den. She excitedly begins showing you the large collection she has. 

Within minutes you're laughing so hard at something Sarah says that you don't hear Joel leave, closing the door gently behind him. 

Sarah is a funny kid. You'd suspected it after you first met her, but an hour later this opinion is solidified. She's currently got her Barbie on a date with her stuffed toad. When you asked her why this was she hadn't even taken a pause before responding.

"You said you had toad boyfriends so Barbie has one too." 

You continue on like this for a bit until Sarah decides she wants to show you her Pokémon cards, and then her Polly pockets. It goes on like this until the carpet is littered with her toys.

The den where you sit and play feels warm and lived in. The plush sofa is under a large window. To one side is the fireplace with a television mounted overhead. The DVD player is set up to the side in a cabinet that also houses many kids DVDs and plenty of board games. The coffee table is a light wood, holding a remote, TV guide and several coloring books. 

On the other side of the room is a large wicker basket that houses most of Sarah's toys and a built-in unit that holds a record player and a very impressive looking vinyl collection. On the wall hang three guitars, all beautifully maintained but dusty from disuse. 

A quick glance at your watch confirms it's almost seven thirty. Normally you wouldn't be too stringent but you don't know how Joel would be if he knew you'd let her stay up. You’re not friends with Joel, barely even on good terms and you have no interest in getting in even deeper to his bad books.

"Okay bug," you say without thinking. "Time for bed."

"My name isn't bug," she says exasperatedly, as if you're the silliest idiot she's ever come across. "It's Sarah remember?"

"I remember," you say good-naturedly as you begin to put the toys she'd brought out back in the big toy basket. "It's just what my mom calls me sometimes. Just slipped out, sorry."

Sarah looks at you for a long while, her tiny face thoughtful. After a beat she helps you load the basket of toys back up. When you're finished she looks over at you seriously, her large eyes unblinking up at you. 

"You can call me bug if you want."

You nod before standing, holding a hand out to her. 

"Time to brush those teeth," you say cheerfully as if brushing one's teeth is one of the world's most exciting pastimes. 

"I already did," Sarah says looking at the Pokémon cards still in her hands. She's not paying attention to you. 

"Sure," you say with an eye roll. "Well I'm glad you did otherwise the sugar monsters would never leave you alone."

Sarah pauses, sharply darting her eyes to yours as the cards are dropped into the toy basket. "Sugar monsters?"

"Oh yeah," you say casually. "They eat the tongues of children who don't brush their teeth. I guess because of the sugar." 

You pretend to busy yourself folding a nearby blanket. But you can hear the wheels turning in her young head.

"You're lying," Sarah finally says with a conviction that belies the terror clearly shown in her face. 

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," you shrug with a voice full of sunshine. "But you don't have to worry about that, Sarah. You said you brushed your teeth, right?"

Sarah looks conflicted as you head towards the stairs. After a moment of deep contemplation she comes to a solution. 

"I'll brush them again just in case."

"Good idea."

You smile guiding her upstairs even though you have no idea where the bathroom or even her bedroom is. She’s chatting to you, distracting you so that when you push open the first door on your left, you’re surprised to find out it's Joel's bedroom. You know this immediately because this feels like Joel. 

Grey walls with navy wainscotting halfway up surround a very neat but very plain bedroom. One large window with closed blinds overlooks an old dresser with a half opened bottom drawer. A white t-shirt is half-hung over it.

The bed itself is plain and made with tan sheets under a navy coverlet and two off white pillows. A white fan stands in the corner whirring the late heat gently. There are no pictures on the walls aside from a framed photo of a horse above the bed.

Jesus, why must men above a certain age put horses on everything?

You think this as your eyes catch sight of the lotion bottle on the nightstand beside the bed. It doesn’t strike you as strange at first, but it's the unopened box of Kleenex next to it that sends you backing out of the room at a quick pace almost knocking Sarah over. 

"Oops."

Sarah is laughing at your horrified reaction, pulling your hand to the bathroom. 

It's clearly hers because it's decorated with a purple bath mat and she's got a small sparkly purple toothbrush beside bubblegum flavored toothpaste. She even has a purple spotted stool to stand on so she can reach the sink. 

You watch her brush her teeth thoroughly, pausing only to ask you if sugar monsters like bubblegum flavored toothpaste (you assure her they do not). 

Then she leads you to her bedroom, pressing the door open with both hands as you enter behind her. 

Her bed with its ceiling gripped canopy is a light lavender color. The walls are a pale lilac. Her sheets are purple with little white roses all over them. The dresser on the far side is a light eggplant and the fuzzy chair in the corner next to the bookshelf is a mix of purple shades. 

"I have never seen so much purple in all my life," you say in awe. 

"It's my favorite color."

She pulls herself onto her bed with a grunt, making sure that toad is propped up next to her before slipping under the covers.

"Daddy always reads me a book before bed."

You have no way of knowing if this is true but the sun hasn't quite set in the window and you feel like you can still hear some of the older kids outside having fun. You remember how torturous that felt when you were a kid. 

"Which one?"

"Curious George."

You go to her little bookshelf and bring out one of the slim yellow books. You smile at her as you shuffle back, going to sit at the bottom of her bed to read when she sits up.

"You lay here," Sarah informs you pointing to the pillow next to her.

Bossy little thing.

You do as she instructs before opening the book to read. You make sure that she can see all the pictures and you tell the story of how curious George got his own bike. 

Sarah interrupts you only once to tell you that she herself has a purple bicycle and you respond with what you feel is an appropriate level of enthusiasm. Other than that she lays next to you quietly looking at the pictures, and twisting a tendril of your hair absently through her fingers. 

"You do good voices," Sarah tells you when you finish the book. You know that it's the truth because children could care less when it comes to protecting someone's feelings. 

"Thanks, you're a good audience."

You bring the sheets to her chin and smile down at her. On impulse you give her forehead a tiny peck and she grins up at you. 

"Night, bug."

"G'night." 

You turn on her little star nightlight before you go, shutting the door quietly behind you. 

You walk back to the den and pop on the TV. It's only eight, who knows when Joel will be back. You're not really too put out - this evening turned out much better than you expected. Sarah is so sweet and funny, plus seeing Joel with her makes interacting with him a little more bearable. 

He's still not your favorite person by any stretch of the imagination, but it is easier to think of seeing him in the future at events hosted by Maria and Tommy. 

A buzz comes from your hip and you flip open your phone reading the text that's just come through.

i really think u and I need 2 c each other

With a frown you shove your phone back into your pocket. 

You plop onto the sofa and turn on the TV. Friends is playing but even as you watch your focus drifts to the room around you and lands on those hanging guitars from before. 

You think of the song that you used to sing in another life, in front of a cheering crowd as you bring down the nearest guitar (a Taylor 314ce if you’re not mistaken) tugging the strap over your shoulder. You strum absently before starting to sing softly. 

"We're talking away. I don't knowwwwhat I'm to sayyyawwshit," you fumble the chords but get back in tune. "I'll say it anyway. Today is another day to find -"

You pause when you think you hear the sound of creaking wood. A few moments of silence pass and you pull off the guitar and set it on the sofa. You creep silently to the bottom of the stairs expecting to catch Sarah trying to sneak down but, no, nothing is there. It's just the sound of the house settling. 

You give yourself an internal shake before heading into the kitchen. You dig around in the Wal-Mart bag you brought and pour one of your coke cans into a mug with ice. You pull out the coloring book and crayons you bought. You forgot to tell Sarah about them earlier. You decide to just leave them there on the counter as a gift for her to wake up to tomorrow. 

You open the book cover open and with a crayon you write a simple message:

To Sarah,

Make the world a little more colorful.

Love Toad

Still sipping your coke you go back to the den, wandering around the space slowly. In the quiet of the night you have time to look around in more detail. There is a large painting of a deer in a beautiful landscape by the back door (men and animals, Christ) and you come upon several framed photos hung on the walls. 

One of them is Joel holding Sarah when she was just a baby. Another one of Tommy and Sarah on the Ferris wheel waving to the photographer (undoubtedly Joel). There aren't really any recent ones though and not one of any woman who could be Sarah's mother.

This seems so strange to you. You've known plenty of divorced people that still co-parent. But you barely know Joel and can't ask him why his situation is so different. Maybe if you were to ask Maria... But then again that would mean you had actual interest in Joel's personal life and that was pushing it. As soon as you left this house you would go back to your mutual ambivalence.

You pause when you hear the sound of Joel's truck pulling up into the driveway, a low rumble out the front door. A glance at your watch tells you it's only ten, and you hope everything went well for him. If it did that means Tommy will get to continue to spoil Maria. 

Joel walks in a few minutes later. His hair is dry now and you can see the curls wave slightly when he enters the kitchen. You approach him slowly, watching as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the back of a nearby chair.

"How did the bid go?"

"Won't know until Tuesday but felt pretty good," Joel acknowledges. "Kathleen's tough to read sometimes. How was Sarah? She give you any trouble?"

"Nah, she was great actually," you admit with a grin. "She's a cool kid."

Joel raises his brows at this and you wonder if telling a parent their kid is cool is weird. For the second time this month you're wishing you knew more about kids. 

"She brush her teeth?"

"Yep."

"Good. She's always fighting me on it."

You see Joel reach for his wallet and cringe. You’d forgotten about this part of the evening and for some reason being paid by him feels embarrassing. You’re not a teenager doing this for shopping money. This is just a favor.

"I'm gonna head out."

"I'm paying you for your time," Joel insists, his brows furrowing. "You did me a favor."

"Not really," you reason as you bring your purse over your shoulder. "It was Maria I was doing the favor for. If I didn't, she and Tommy couldn't have gone away."

Joel falters and you hope he didn't take what you said the wrong way. It makes you think of the first time you met, how a simple miscommunication fucked everything from the start.

Maybe it's time to just get everything out in the open.

"Hey, the first night we met," you begin but see Joel's eyes go to the den and harden. Your gaze follows suit and you see the guitar sitting on the sofa. 

"Oh shit, I forgot to put it b-"

"You played it?" Joel demands. His tone leads you to believe that no worse thing could happen to an instrument than being played.

"Uh, yeah," you say pausing a moment. "It was covered in dust so I figured it doesn't get played much."

"You always go to people's houses and touch their shit without permission?"

Woah. Where did that come from?

Weren't you just about to lower your proverbial weapons?

Joel is suddenly fuming and you find yourself own anger spiking in response. 

"Nope, only when I'm doing them favors."

"Thought it wasn't a favor for me?" Joel snarks. 

Fuck this. 

You pull on your purse and leave without another word. 

/// /// /// /// ///

It's Sunday afternoon. You are at James' apartment in the trendy part of Austin working on the sanctuary proposal. 

At least that's what you said you were going to do. 

He currently has you bent over his kitchen counter with your jeans and panties around your ankles as he fucks you hard from behind.

"You feel so fucking good," James pants over you, his face contorted in pleasure. He thrusts into you from behind, one hand gently placed at the small of your back. "Taking my cock so well,"

He continues to groan above you as you hold in an eye roll, your cheek rasping against the cool marble counter. Dirty talk doesn't sound right coming from James. 

Aside from that, he's really not bad at all, above average in size and he has a healthy respect for foreplay. It's just your mind is elsewhere and you can't really find it in yourself to surrender to the pleasure. 

He grunts lowly in his throat, his hips slamming into your ass with vulgar slapping noises. You try to get into it, but after what feels like an eternity you glance over your shoulder between thrusts and just tell him to finish. 

"You're distracted," James observes a short while later after you've both washed up. He gives a long sniff, looking at you anxiously. 

"Yeah," you nod, sitting across from him at his table. You've got your notes in front of you, along with some amateur blueprints you've come up with. "Lots of pent up energy."

"Normally sex helps with that," James says looking nervous, like it's his fault you didn't come. It's really not, but considering this was your first attempt at a casual hookup you can see why he may be a bit anxious. 

"Just a lot on the go," you explain. "Nothing to do with you."

"Is it the grant?"

"Partly," you nod. "I'm pretty pissed off about it. I know that we did what we needed to do, but that doesn't mean I'm happy that the kennels are yet again delayed."

James looks at you nodding. "Wish I could help."

"You did all you could," you relent. "Without you we never wouldn't have gotten money to get the office fixed and apparently it was in critical condition."

"Still, I'm sorry about the kennels."

"Yeah, me too," you admit before going back to the blueprints.

It’s probably not fair but you blame Joel for it. You’re convinced if he hadn’t come in and shoved his big nose into things that weren’t his business you would have your kennels. Then again maybe you’re still just pissed off about last night.

The two of you work quietly across from one another until James pipes up again. 

"Do you think we should try more than just sex?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "I'm not interested in, like, role-playing stuff if that's what you're suggesting."

James gives an embarrassed laugh. "No. I meant maybe we should try doing other things like, I dunno, going to the movies or something?"

Going to the movies?

You weren't expecting this from James. You'd thought this casual sex thing was a good idea and could work quite nicely for the both of you. After Paul you'd just wanted a physical release without the emotion. James had been such a nice, easy choice. 

Up until now, that is. 

"Not really," you say before pausing, considering the bluntness of your reply and the knowledge that you have to work with this man seated across from you. "Unless, you were thinking we should?"

"I mean, I think it'd be nice," James says with a shrug of his shoulders. 

You take a moment to look at him objectively. When you'd first started working with one another a few years ago you remember thinking he was decent looking. He'd dropped numerous hints but you'd been with Paul and weren't a cheater, so the attraction had never been something you focused on. 

Now though, with his light eyes and sandy brown hair normally hidden under a green cap you can admit he's cute. He's tall and lithe and dresses like a retired pastor, but bad fashion isn't a deal breaker for you. 

"Okay. Sure."

He looks impossibly relieved. 

"How about Saturday? There's that new zombie flick showing at seven."

"Sounds great"

/// /// /// /// /// ///

"Tommy better get here soon. I refuse to be disqualified because your boyfriend has poor time management skills."

Maria and you are sitting in a booth in the back of the Tipsy Bison. It's a busy night with trivia and wings being the big selling point. You and Maria love both. Maria has just finished telling you all about her weekend away ("I'm so into him. I think I love him!") And is now into her second helping of wings. 

"He still has ten minutes," Maria defends, looking at her wristwatch before biting into another piece of lemon pepper chicken. 

Tommy has been joining you at your trivia nights every so often and you don't actually mind at all. He fits in with your humor and he's great at the sports categories. 

"We wanted to try that new tapas place next weekend. You wanna come?"

"Can't. Got a date."

Maria drops the wing bone onto her plate with a dramatic flair that feels completely unnecessary. 

"Excuse me? Since when?"

"Since James asked me," you reply, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. You put all your attention on your Cajun wing, hoping that your refusal to meet her eyes will get you off the hook.  

"No way!" Maria is smiling widely. "James the accountant?" 

"He does some of our finances if that's what you mean," you pause to take the quiz paper and golf pencil from the waitress. "Thanks."

"Have you slept together?"

Maria is staring at you and you write the name of your team at the top of the paper, pretending you didn't hear her. But the flush is back to your cheeks.

"I knew it!" Maria crows victoriously. She slaps the table loudly. "That's why you were in such a good mood on Sunday! I remember thinking 'no one is that excited to work on a weekend'."

"Well, good job detective," you say drolly. "Hopefully you can use those same skills for trivia tonight because I refuse to lose to those bitches again."

You glare over at the booth across from you at the group of silver-hairs that attend every trivia night like it's their job since retirement. They all wear oversized matching blue t-shirts with "Merryatrics" emblazoned on the front. 

Myrtle, the leader of the group lowers her pint and slants a sneer at you that you emphatically return. 

"We are not losing to Myrtle again," Maria swears. She's about to say something more when she smiles over your shoulder.

"Hey baby!"

Tommy saunters over, pressing a light kiss to her lips. You're about to greet him with a wave when another figure strides into your field of vision.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

"Sarah's at a play date tonight so I dragged this guy out to join the team," Tommy says shaking off his jacket and taking a seat next to Maria. “Figured another person can only help.”

"You're soaked!" Maria clucks her tongue, sliding her arms around Tommy's middle. 

"It's pissing down rain tonight," Tommy says with a nervous look out the window before pulling Maria closer to him. "Guess you'll have to warm me up, huh?"

You roll your eyes watching as Joel begins shrugging off his own jacket and hanging it off the hook at the end of the booth. He too is damp from the storm outside. 

You go to say something cutting about not needing Joel to slow your team down but you can feel Maria's eyes on you. 

Remember your promise. Remember the deal you made with Joel.

"Hey," he rasps glancing over at you with a wary look. "Hope you don't mind me joining."

"Not at all," Maria answers for you. "Come sit, it's about to start."

There's only the space next to you in the booth, so you squeeze closer to Maria as Joel slides in next to you. His thigh grazes yours before he orders a bottle of Lonestar for himself and Tommy. 

"Storms pretty bad," Joel offers the table. "Heard it might get worse this week."

"Power outage might be just what we need," you say with a laugh. 

"Yeah maybe that way we'll beat the Merryatrics," Maria frowns. "Sick of losing to them."

“Bitches.”

You think you can see Joel smirking at that. You shift to look at him out the corner of your eyes. Up so close to him you can see the patch on his chin where his beard doesn't quite touch, the lines between his brows and how dark his eyes are. 

He's wearing a dark red flannel over a black t-shirt. You're surprised to find he smells pretty good considering he came from the job site and it’s raining like hell outside.  He smells like wood shavings and laundry detergent. 

"How did babysitting go?" Tommy asks you from the other end of the booth, his arm slung over Maria's shoulder as she leans into him. "We appreciate it by the way."

"Was no problem," you answer him honestly. "Sarah's a cool kid. Funny."

"Well she sure can't stop talking about you," Tommy says taking his bottle from the waitress. "When I saw her this morning she was working on some coloring page I was supposed to give to you. I left it in the truck."

"That's so sweet!" Maria gushes, her hand on her heart. She looks at you with gratitude and you hope that this interaction is enough to make up for being so hostile with Joel in the past.  

"I'm sure you're exaggerating," you say shyly twisting the straw in your new water glass. "We just played some games and I read her a story."

"It's true," Joel rasps from beside you, surprising you. "Sarah can't stop talking about how much fun she had with you. And she's, uh, been asking when you're coming back."

He clears his throat as you glance over at him. It seems you really did make quite an impression on Sarah. 

"Really?"

Joel nods over at you. His eyes dart along your face and he looks about to say something when a loud voice breaks over your group.

"Whose ready to do some sick triviaaaaaaaa?"

The four of you glance over at the host, a man in his twenties named Tyler who loves trivia more than he loves baggy jeans (and judging by the fact that you can see his boxers very clearly, he really loves baggy jeans). He makes sure every team has an answer sheet and pencil before he starts.

“First question we have today is about sports!” Tyler shouts over the growing crowd. What type of golf clubs are used for long shots from the tee or fairway?”

The Merryatrics begin writing hurriedly on their answer sheet as you and Maria exchange a look of disappointment. This is not a category either of you know much on. In desperation you decide to use your additional manpower.

"How much do you know about golf clubs, Joel?"

"Not much."

Great.

Thankfully it turns out that Tommy knows plenty when it comes to the category. You and Maria know most when it comes to the Math, Science and pop culture category. Joel has a strangely gifted knowledge of literature. And by the time the halfway scores are tallied you and the Merryatrics are tied for first place. 

At the break you and Maria order more wings and the boys order burgers for themselves. Maria and Tommy chat quietly with one another, her head leaning on his shoulder sweetly. You notice she and Tommy have drunk far more than you and Joel.

You pick at your last Cajun wing, feeling strangely left out. You've never felt left out when with Tommy and Maria before. You muse it must be because Joel is here, and they think he is keeping you company. 

Joel must be feeling similarly to you because he looks awkwardly around the bar, tipping the last of his first beer into his mouth. Out of the corner of your eyes you watch his lean neck bob as he swallows.

The music is soft in the back of the pub, lively and makes the mood between the two of you feel less tense despite the animosity you're still feeling towards him. As if he can feel your mind drifting to Saturday night Joel has shifted to turn his body more to face you in the booth.

"Sarah really did enjoy when you were over," Joel says in a rush, as if this conversation is hard for him. "She wanted me to ask you to come babysit her again. If you have time. And I'll pay you of course. I do insist on that, 'cuz it's a job and your time is worth something." 

Memories of how your last babysitting job ended with Joel don't exactly kindle interest in this proposition. You thin your lips, turning the chicken wing over in your fingers as you contemplate before dropping it next to a half eaten piece of celery. 

"And you can play all the guitars in the house that you want," Joel adds exhaling slowly, his focus fixed on you. "I'll even throw in a bongo drum if that'll seal the deal."

You know how much this must hurt him, having to ask you of all people for a favor. It's a testament to how much he loves his daughter and that's the only reason you don't make it more difficult for him. 

"I was under the impression that babysitting Sarah was kind of Tommy's thing," you say, wiping your finger tips with the damp napkins provided. "I wouldn't want to intrude on that."

Joel motions to Tommy and Maria giggling to themselves at the end of the booth.

"If I'm honest, I think Tommy'll be even more excited to have you babysit than Sarah. It’ll free up more of his time." 

The waitress arrives back with the burgers, placing them in front of the boys. You're thankful for the break. You need to think about this. Yes, you really enjoyed hanging with Sarah but more Joel time isn't exactly worth it.

"Do you and your girlfriend want more?" the waitress asks looking at Joel and motioning to the plate of half eaten wings in front of you. You go to assure the waitress that Joel Miller is not and never will be your boyfriend, but he’s already talking, distracted by your previous conversation.

"You want more?" Joel asks your surprised face. You shake your head and he turns back handing the bone-filled plate to the waitress. "Nah, thanks sweetheart."

The waitress takes it, smiling prettily at Joel before quickly moving from the table. You expect that Joel will be following her form sashaying away, but he’s distracted, looking at you waiting for your answer. 

Thankfully you're rescued from answering his questioning look by Tyler who comes back with an air horn he beeps as he gets to the front of the room. 

"Y'all ready for round two?!"

By the time you reach the final question Maria and Tommy are giggling drunken idiots and you and Joel are hunched over the beer stained answer sheet, focused intently on the young man with oversized pants at the front of the pub reading off his card. 

"And for the final question of the final round," Tyler drawls dramatically. "This planet has the tallest mountain in the solar system.”

Fuck. Space has never really been your thing outside of the odd horoscope you read in the paper.

“And just to keep it interesting,” Tyler calls from the front. “An extra point goes to the team who can name this tallest mountain. You have one minute." 

A hushed 'ooooo' goes through the pub at this. You turn your attention to the answer sheet, Maria's hand is gripping the gold pencil so tightly you're worried she might break it.

"Jupiter?" Maria offers through her drunken haze. "That's the one with rings right? It should have mountains."

"What kind of logic is that?"

"What about Uranus?" Tommy suggests with a short laugh that Maria grins at.  

"Tommy this is serious and you're drunk," you tell him pointedly. Joel is quiet behind you, rubbing at his forehead with his eyes closed. He's probably just willing the game to end soon. You still haven’t given him an answer about Sarah and you have a feeling he’s just holding out for it.

Myrtle and her band of Merryatrics are writing and then looking over at you with smug smiles. It creates a blind panic in you that makes your mind draw a blank.

“Earth," you suggest inspired as the seconds tick by. "It's a trick, gotta be. Mount Everest." 

Maria nods in agreement, and you watch her write down a sloppy "Earth/Mount Everest" on the sheet before a large hand stills your wrist. Joel chest presses into your shoulder as he moves in and drops his voice. 

"It's Mars. Olympus Mons."

You look at Joel over your shoulder with a wrinkled nose. "What? How do you know that?"

"Sarah's really into space right now," Joel explains with a shy shrug. "She made me get her a bunch of books from the library. We were just reading one last week and it had this Olympus Mons on it, I’m positive."

You and Maria exchange a look. This answer determines whether or not you beat the seniors team. Myrtle and her team are chatting anxiously with one another. You give one last glance at Joel over your shoulder.

"Trust me."

You consider his words before turning back to Maria who had insisted on writing the answer despite her writing growing increasingly sloppy with each question. You take the pencil from her hand despite her protestations because you can't take a chance at fucking this up.

"Let's do it," you urge. "Mars. Olympus Mons." 

You finish just as the final cow bell tolls. The papers are collected and brought to Tyler who says he will be reading out the winners shortly.  The four of you are all sitting shoulder to shoulder, watching Tyler tally the scores from all the cards, so intent you almost don't hear Joel next to you. 

"Fuck, now I'm not sure if was Mars. Maybe it was Jupiter."

You turn on him with wide eyes and a scowl. "Are you serious?"

"Nah," he says taking a sip from his water glass, his eyes dancing. "Just wanted to rile you up. Seems pretty easy to do."

You want to be irritated at that but instead you laugh in both relief and surprise. "Is it a crime to want to win? To be . . . "

You break off as you search for a word that sounds better than "terrifyingly intense in the face of trivia". 

"Passionate?" Joel offers with a quirked brow. 

"Exactly," you nod vigorously. "I'm just very passionate."

You smile at one another and you swear for a moment it almost looks like Joel checks you out. His eyes are darting around your face and trying to subtly dart to your collar without being obvious. You feel your cheeks get hot at the thought. 

Tyler breaks into this moment with his long, squeaky voice. 

"And the winners are... the Quizards of Oz!”

You've won. 

After 7 months of trying to knock those geriatric fucks out of the trivia top spot, you’ve done it.

"YES!" 

Maria whirls into Tommy's arms, pumping her fist in the air with a shriek. You are equally enthused, half standing in the booth and giving a loud roar of victory before pointing at Myrtle and the rest of the seniors who give you baleful looks. 

"BEAT YOU! YES! TAKE THAT YOU HAGS!" 

Joel is staring up at you half crouched in the booth pointing aggressively at a group of angry looking seniors before his eyes go over to see Tommy and Maria making out passionately.  

You drop back into your seat, your face flushed. Joel looks incredulously from the angry senior citizens group back over to you pink and giggling. 

"Do I want to know what has you brutal enemies with a group of eighty-year-old women?"

"They know what they did," you say giving the group of glaring old women a sneer. 

The waitress comes over with your bills after this. You all pay and the waitress pulls out an envelope from her apron pocket. 

"Congrats y'all," she says handing you the envelope. "Didn't think we'd ever see the Merryatrics lose!"

"S'bout time!" Maria slurs from beside you. 

You take the envelope with pride, tucking it into your purse and sighing back into your booth as if you just succeeded in being accepted into the hall of fame.

You notice the waitress push something across the table to Joel, it looks like it is another receipt but you recognize looping handwriting with a name and what you can only assume is her phone number.  You notice the tips of Joel's ear pinking as he notices it, but he turns his attention over to you, amused at your blissed-out reaction to winning.

"What's the prize?" 

"A ten dollar gift certificate here."

"That's it?" Joel laughs - actually laughs - at this. "All that work for a ten bucks to a pub with barely passable food?"

"It's the principle!" you snicker back, tickled at his reaction.

Joel smiles at you, but this is a new one. This smile you've not had directed at you before. It makes his eyes crinkle until they almost disappear, his teeth shining and the dimple in his right cheek deepens. 

"And winning has put me in such a good mood that I'm gonna agree to babysit for you, Miller."

"Really?" 

"Yeah," you say beaming. You're still high on the victory. Maria leans over in your direction. 

"Great," Joel smiles at you. "Sarah's gonna be -"

"What are you two whispering about?" Maria interrupts with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. She's tipsy and trying to hold in a giggle. "Whisper whisper."

"Babysitting and we're not whispering you fool," you reply, amused at her drunkenness. You dart a look back over at Joel to see that he's holding back a laugh. 

"Ooooh," Maria looks over at Tommy. "She's gonna babysit for Joel!"

"I knew it!" Tommy replies equally drunk. "When?"

"Oh yeah, when?" You turn your attention back to Joel. 

"Saturday?"

"Sure -" you answer without thinking. But Maria has been listening and moves a hand by your face, waving emphatically.

"Nah, can't be Saturday," she informs Joel with glazed eyes. "She has a date that night with James."

"The co-worker?" Tommy slurs behind her.

"Yeah and she hasn't dated anyone since Paul so she's gotta go and have proper sex with him." 

"Maria!" You say with a horrified look. You don't need Joel and Tommy Miller of all people knowing the details of your pitiful sex life. 

Maria throws a dramatic hand over her mouth and a smirking Tommy points at her as if she's been caught doing something terrible. "I'm sorry!" 

Joel has pulled himself from the booth and is glancing down at you as he pulls on his jacket. You give a shake of your head as if to say "what're we gonna do with these two knuckleheads?' He glances over at his brother leaning a sleepy head on an equally sleepy Maria's shoulder. 

"Guess we're the DD's tonight," you sigh as you pull yourself out of the booth. "Yet another reason to stay irresponsible."

He gives a smile that doesn't touch his eyes in return at the joke. You watch his attention dart back to the waitresses' phone number sitting there on the table, looking indecisive. He clears his throat awkwardly before quickly snatching it up and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans.

"C'mon Tommy," Joel says pulling his brother to a stand with a grunt. You do the same with Maria. 

You watch as the Millers make their way out the door of the pub, wondering how you just spent an entire evening with Joel Miller and didn't hate it. 

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #Last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #Pedro Pascal #Pedro #Pedro Pascal Joel #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #romance #sweet!Joel

[itsoutrageouss]

Like a bellflower - chapter one

chapter one of like a bellflower, a Joel Miller x Fem!Oc fanfiction.

warnings: violence, death, blood, the word 'rape', general apocalyptic angst things yk

words: 2,6k

Story taglist

1. A stoic rescue

✿✿✿

“If we don’t find some more fucking ammo soon I swear i’m going to kill someone,” Kade grumbled as we all walked along a broad gravelly road. He bit into the last of his dried meat with anger, ripping the flesh apart aggressively with his teeth. His arm nearly hit me as it swung back. I always stayed behind the four of them. Kade, Ryan, Sarah and Cole. When they found me, and agreed to pick me up along with them I thought I could find solidarity in Sarah. A girl. Or a woman I should say, because she is a lot more woman than me. 

Her shoulders were as broad as the mens, her figure sturdy and hardened like her face. No solidarity was to be found in those eyes. She met me like the men did; looking down at me with clenched jaws, demanding I fix us all food and making mean jokes when I try to brush and fix my hair. 

“That ain’t going to fix nothing sweetheart- how about a trip to the salon instead? It’ll be on me,” Kade would say with a nasty grin and they would all belt out laughter while they tended to their guns like I tend to my hair, with the same kind of care. The kind you should never use on weapons.

“But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue,” I always quote, biting my tongue until metal melts in my mouth.

“You have to calm down, we’re almost at the next town. If there isn’t any ammo, we’ll butcher someone that has some.” Cole replies, walking with fast, tough steps. They were always so hard, so violent. I watched intensely as my feet kicked the gravel. My gun didn’t have a lot of ammo left either but I would rather not have to hurt someone to get more. I’d run if I had to, but I really didn’t. 

The rest of the walk was silent, until old suburban houses started appearing. No one spoke to me. Wordlessly everyone divided to ransack the houses. Cole and Kade went together, so did Ryan and Sarah. Sarah, a dainty, feminine name for a woman with cold, rejecting eyes. No solace. I walked on my own, shoulders slumping. 

The house was a pale blue, the door was off the hinges completely, and I stepped over the rotten wood. Dust swirled in the beams of light that were pushing through barred windows. Someone had stayed here for a while, it looked like. Empty cans of food were piled on the dirty kitchen tiles. When I glanced back at the broken down door, I noticed the beating it had taken. The blood stains that the wood had absorbed. Scratch marks. I didn’t want to think of what had happened here, and instead I filtered through the flashes of sunlight, the warmth pulsing on my cheek. The air smelled like rotten wood too, as well as flowers. They bloomed in the corners of the walls, through broken tapestry they unfolded like nothing had ever bothered them. Like the whole world wasn’t dying. Untouched by the destruction, pretty and blooming. I wished to be like the flower. 

There was no ammo, but in the back cabinets I found old cans of beans that must’ve been forgotten in whatever hurry had happened here. Between the wooden beams that barred the window I saw the others gathering in the middle of the road. Soldiers, they looked like. Machines. They made my skin crawl and every soft thing inside me hardened. I solidified, when everything I fought for everyday was to be soft. Free, fresh and blooming like a flower. A war between me and the world to preserve the delicate human I was, but I felt like throwing it all up when Kade looked at me. He made me feel like he wanted to rape me. His eyes were wide like a drug addict, and his stare a direct look into the most damaged soul I had ever met in my life. I had no clue what his story was and I was terrified to find out. He wanted to hurt the world like it had hurt him and I didn’t want to be here to see it but I had nowhere else to go. 

They talked aggressively to each other, heads bent close together even though there probably wasn't anyone around for miles. I still never got used to seeing people standing in the middle of the roads. The cars were supposed to be there. And now all the cars were flipped upside down and stripped for parts. Sarah crushed a spiring dandelion under her foot. Her black, greasy hair flipped around her head when she talked. The day was beautiful but the people were not. 

We decided to camp there, in the house I found. I found a broken family photo in a bedroom upstairs. I was frozen, sitting on a four poster bed with a family full of strangers in my hand. This room was a memory in time. A photo in itself. If not for the barricaded window, where the sunlight slowly turned red, you wouldn’t be able to tell that life had died everywhere around it. So I stayed there all night. I went downstairs silently, like a child who’d awoken from a nightmare. But there were no parents downstairs, and I crept silently around them to grab a can of beans. Kades big hand squeezed my fragile wrist harshly and the can dropped from my hand. “You’re not taking all of that,” he spoke harshly before opening the can and pouring almost all of the content into an empty one. The rest he gave to me. “Sit down,” he stroked my wrist where he’d hurt me and I coiled away, sitting down reluctantly. I never joined their talk. Ryan was the nicest of them all, though the difference in their behaviors were minimal. They had been just them for so long that Sarah was Ryan and Ryan was Cole and all of them were Kade. Not one authentic trait that wasn’t given to them by the apocalypse. None of their own selves left from before. I pitied it, sort of. When they dozed off in their sleeping bags I snuck back up and crawled under the cold comforter in the bedroom with the photo on the pillow next to me. I tried to imagine living here. With my family, when they were still here. Sleeping next to my parents in their bed even though i probably was a bit too old for it. We wouldn’t tell anyone. Tomorrow we’d make breakfast together, maybe? 

Those thoughts put me to sleep. 

Bang. I woke with such a violent start that my hand flung the photo to the carpeted floor. It was already broken, but now the glass had fallen out of the frame in pieces completely. I had ruined the last memory of this family. Another bang. It was gunshots and the crashes that followed rumbled the old flooring beneath me. Impulsively I ripped the photo from the frame and stuck it in my pocket. I didn’t know how to move. We had never been in this situation. I had never been apart from the group when we were attacked. They were always there and always merciless. I had to fend for myself still, because they prioritized each other over me anytime. Sometimes it was as if they would purposefully let me fight on my own despite them being fully capable of helping me. I swung my backpack on, in case I had to run again. My hands trembled and the gun nearly slipped from my grasp. I creaked open the bedroom door, right at the top of the stairs. “Fucking get him!” I heard Ryan yell. More crashes, grunts. The stairs creaked as I took a step but another noise covered it. Blood sprayed on the wall next to the broken front door. Greasy black hair, fell with a thud to the ground. Blood started to pool around Sarah’s head, which was all of her I could see from this angle. I breathed in. It smelled like being on summer camp. Sunlight, fresh air but a metallic, wooden scent interfered with the peaceful memory. Kane roared and I heard him  surge towards whoever the perpetrator was. I closed my eyes harshly until it hurt, then I opened them and ran down the stairs as the spots faded away from my sight. My gun was stretched in front of me. Everything after that happened so fast I barely caught it. An elbow to Ryan's face who stumbled backwards. To clean shots through Cole's stomach. Bang, bang, thud. Bile rose in my throat. My gun was still in front of me. I didn’t move. I didn’t know what I felt. 

A loud grunt, a missed shot but a punch to the gut from Kade to the stranger. He was hardened too, but not in the cold, menacing way of the others. He looked human, I thought, right before he twisted Kades arm around in a nasty crack, pushing his back into the man's chest before firing a bullet right through his temples. Kade looked at me then, and for the first and only time I saw something else in his eyes. He looked scared. Like a little boy who’d been told off. Who’d been left alone and scolded and shown no love, who now pleaded for it for the last time ever. And then my eyes turned sympathetic. I did everything I could to give him that last piece of whatever feeling closest to affection I had for him and a peace fell over his eyes right as the bullet tore through him. My mouth was sour, and I leaned down, throwing up right next to Sarah’s body. 

The stranger let Kade fall to his knees, discarded him and stalked towards me with a reaction time that seemed inhuman. I expected the harsh, calloused hands of a man piercing my skin. Like Kade’s used to. I dropped the gun. It landed in my own puke. The man stopped between me and the mess. We both looked down. Then we looked up. My eyes were filled with hot, stingy tears from throwing up. Maybe fear. He breathed harshly, quickly and his nostrils flared. His eyes were dark as he looked demandingly underneath his furrowed brows. He had a handsome face, salt and pepper scruff, a hooked nose and sloped lips. But he also was hardened from this world. 

His shoulders fell, quickly aware that I probably wasn’t the biggest threat around. That irritated me, and I squared up, fisting my hands. “Get away or I'll punch you.” I said. There was volume in my voice that I didn't expect. He didn’t move, but looked down on my petty gun again. Then he turned around, and started searching the bodies of my old crew. He took their guns, searched them. I stood still. I was shaking like a leaf and tears rolled down my cheeks now silently. I wasn’t sad for these people. I was sad for the last time this happened. When it was the people I cared for that lay still while I stood up. I cried for them,  tightly fisting the photo of the family I found in my pocket. The man stopped, and looked at me. “I’ll leave some stuff for you,” he said. His voice was gruff. And it hit me like bricks, so hard I nearly folded into two again. I was going to be left alone. The man was looking done, about to leave again. Then there would be silence, like when snow falls. Nothing. 

“Take me with you,” I said, too desperate for my liking but suddenly he felt like the last thing I had in the world even though I didn't even know his name.

“No,” he said, and walked out the backdoor without looking back. I wiped my gun off in Sarah’s shirt, with a little regret but not so much that i felt guilty and followed the man out. He had a horse that was tied to a tree.

“You have to.” i stated, my breathing quick and shallow. I would not let him leave. 

“I don’t, actually.” 

Did he not feel any remorse? What if that was my family he just killed, and then left me for myself. Not even so merciful as to put me in the grave with them? But they weren’t my family and I would not go with them into death, but this man didn’t know. 

“You just killed everything around me.” It wasn’t the first time that had happened and I felt like I was grasping at water, trying to hold it in my hand. I heaved in a gasp of shock and sorrow and it was what finally made him look at me. His brows furrowed even more, if possible. His face softened, and I swore I saw guilt flash across his still-new features. He was listening.

“I’m silent. You won’t even know i’m here. And as soon, I promise, as soon as we come across somewhere else I can stay, I'll leave. But you owe me a ride.” I wasn’t used to selling myself, to making me sound like someone you’d want along on your travels and even though my face heated with embarrassment and the words I spoke, it was all the hope I had not to curl up in that four poster bed until I withered into nothing. 

He said nothing for a while, looking somewhere behind me in thought. I mustered my most desperate eyes. I tried baring my soul through them for him to see that I needed this. He already seemed ways better than any of the four people that had taken me upon since the tragic incident. 

“As soon as we find something.. livable, you’re gone.” he grumbled. The relief made my knees weak, air seeped out of me uncontrollably and I had to hold onto the tree so as to not fall in on myself. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whispered, tasting tears on my lips that I wiped profusely. I was not to be a burden to this man before I had even gotten onto his horse. 

“Just follow me and stay quiet,” he said, pulling the horse along with him. We walked, and I didn't look back. The blue house I swore to leave forever behind me. The photo I held onto. The sun was only just rising, cold and bright as it stretched over the abandoned houses. We walked in the middle of the road, on each side of the horse. I felt warmth on my skin, on my hair and I combed it down with my fingers and braided it down my back. And no one laughed, or said anything. I realized this might have been my rescue as I looked up at the pine trees ahead, instead of down at the gravel. I looked anywhere I liked and made my hair look nice and I stroked the now curled up photo with my thumb, looking over at the man.

“What's your name?” 

I had already broken one of three rules: stay silent, follow me, leave me alone as soon as possible.

He sighed, “you’re not very good at this.” 

Even his scolding, and his glare was everything Kades wasn’t. There was no malice, no intention to hurt. I didn’t feel fear in my gut. 

“I’m Belle. Like the princess” I peaked over the horse’s moving body.

“Like bellflowers,” he said, glancing at me for barely a second. Like a bellflower, blooming, delicate and untouched by the world. I wish it was so.

“Joel. My name is Joel”

✿✿✿

chapter two

#joel miller #joel miller ff #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x fem!oc #joel miller x female reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel tlou #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x oc

[illusbyliz]

pedro pascal fan club sticker available on my etsy now: https://www.etsy.com/listing/1411736992/pedro-pascal-fan-club-glossy-waterproof?ref=SellerDashboard

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fan club #pedro pascal sticker #pedro pascal tlou #pedro pascal joel #pedro pascal got #pedro pascal fanart

[molt3ngold]

#pedro pascal #supernatural #jensen ackles #dean winchester #spn #man i love dilfs #castiel #misha collins #joel miller #sam winchester #hannibal #will graham #the walking dead #Daryl Dixon #rick grimes #Norman Reedus #andrew lincoln #ao3 #tumblr #fanfic #fanfiction #archive of our own #fanfiction.net #smut

[mdawgswizzleinthehizzle]

bella in the background 🥺😭

#the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou #ellie williams #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #bella ramsey #joel tlou #ellie and joel #golden globes #the mandalorian #narcos #javier peña #javi gutierrez

[beeabart]

the sillies

#someone give pedro this shirt please #my art #the last of us #the last of us fanart #joel miller #ellie williams #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #tlou #edit: what happened here😭😭 thank u so much wtf

[purple-1995]

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #pedro pascal #incorrect quotes #the last of us incorrect quotes

[tomshiddles]

#making silly faces is reserved only for his daughters

#the last of us #tlouhboedit #tvedit #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #nico parker #tlou spoilers #tlounetwork #tloudaily #usersugar #tusercora #xuserannie #userallisyn #userangelic #userharmony #usergreta #useraurore #** #joel miller #ellie williams #sarah miller

[obiwan]

THE LAST OF US - #It’s just deer meat

#the last of us #tlou spoilers #tlouedit #tlouhboedit #pedro pascal #joel miller #ellie williams #bella ramsey #tlounetwork #tloudaily #userconstance #useraurore #tuserpolly #tusercora #usersugar #gif

[billy-crudup]

THE LAST OF US TV show 1.06 “Kin” | video game

#the last of us #tlouedit #tlouhboedit #tvedit #userjen #userconstance #usergal #userkia #userscary #userquel #the last of us hbo #tloudaily #dailyflicks #userbbelcher #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #joel miller #ellie williams #creations tag #gifs #crying in the club yet again

[auteurdelabre]

Something to Fight For (Series) (PART FOUR)

Word Count: 6.8

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warnings: THERE ARE SEXUAL THEMES IN THIS CHAPTER.   

A/N: This is part of a series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You didn't!" Frank laughs as you pull out the gift certificate to Tipsy Bison and slide it across the counter to him. 

"We did it," you say with a smug smile. "Finally put those bitches in their place."

Lightning crackles outside as if emphasizing your victory. The storm has been brewing intensely. You and Maria are standing in Frank's kitchen, half standing against the center kitchen island with freshly poured cups of tea the next morning. 

Rain is coming down in torrents, lighting and thunder punctuating the normally placid weather. 

"You didn't have to do that," Frank assures you, looking at the gift certificate with a tight-lipped smile. He turns the paper over a few times between his fingers. 

"Yes we did," Maria says solemnly. You agree. Taking it from them had felt not only satisfying, but right. 

Several months ago when you had first learned of trivia at the Tipsy Bison you, Maria, Frank and a very reluctant Bill had attended together. It was supposed to be a fun night out, a chance to distract yourself from your solitude. 

Except Myrtle and the Merryatrics decided to make it their personal mission to make Bill and Frank feel as shitty and judged as possible.

Wincing when Frank or Bill touched hands. Making gagging noises when Frank laughed, putting his head on Bill's shoulder. Frank had gone red in the face, trying to ignore them but it was too late, the damage had been done. 

It had all come to a head when Bill had passed Myrtle on his way to the commode and she'd called out an ugly slur under her breath, much to the tittering of her equally horrible tablemates. 

You'd all heard it. You'd all seen it and both you and Maria held a visibility upset Frank by the hands, shielding him from their mockery and smirks as you left the pub seconds later at his request. An oblivious Bill had joined minutes later completely thrown as to why everyone was outside. 

That night you and Maria had been fuming, trying to come up with something harmless but effective. You both come from a world where justice needs to be served. Getting revenge on a bunch of asshole senior citizens was hard when they had so little in their prejudiced lives to live for. 

Screaming at them was what you wanted to do, but knew that revenge had to be better than that. Something that would really hurt them. Trivia night; that had been their Achilles heel. The one thing they had in their miserable lives. 

And now you've brought back a small piece of that victory, like returning the shield of a slain warrior back to your king. 

You reach into the drawer in the island, pulling out a pair of scissors and sliding them across the counter to Frank who smiles at you both with a teary grin. 

"Wanna do the honors?"

Frank takes the scissors and with a flourish slices the certificate into several pieces before sweeping them into the garbage bin. 

You and Maria give emphatic claps and whoops. It feels good, like the closing of a particularly ugly chapter. After a pause Maria is giggling gently. You and Frank exchange looks of amusement before she finally talks again. 

"I also dropped off a particularly nasty note at their table when we left."

You dart a look over at Maria in surprise. "How? You were so hammered by the time we left you could barely stand."

"I wrote the note when I was sober," Maria says tapping her temple. "Had a feeling with we'd win with Joel there."

"Joel was there?" Frank says, his attention diverted. "The handsome one with the broad shoulders and ass that just will not quit?"

Frank says this with a sigh that borders on pornographic. You're thankful that Bill is working in the basement. 

"Frank!" Maria says with a good-natured laugh. "You been perving on him when he comes to the house?"

"No just observing." Frank darts a look to you. "Had to see what he looked like after this one was complaining about him being about the worst person alive."

You don't say anything, choosing to focus on the milk that you are now mixing into your tea. 

"Seemed like you two were getting along at trivia," Maria offers with a hopeful look in your direction before she looks back to Frank. "Plus she babysat his daughter."

You can feel Frank's incredulous gaze on you.

"So one week he's a nightmare come to life and now he's cool and you're hanging out at his place?"

Frank is now eyeing you with a curling grin. 

"Babysitting isn't hanging out," you defend. "He was barely there."

"Did you snoop?" Maria giggles. "I always wondered what Joel's place was like."

"Boring," you answer honestly. "I thought with him being a carpenter there would be so much beautiful woodwork like in here. But nah, just a boring ol' box house."

Something about that house stands out in the back of your mind though and you can't help but ask. You turn to Maria, your cheeks warming from your tea. 

"Do you know anything about his ex? There are no photos of her on the walls, not even from when Sarah was a baby."

"Maybe he doesn't wanna be reminded of her?"

"But when Sarah was at the office she mentioned she didn't have photos of her mom and Joel got all weird." You frown at the memory. "I just wondered if Tommy had ever mentioned anything."

"Not to me," Maria says. At this point Frank demands to hear more about her anniversary trip away and you turn your attention to the large windows and the rain that slides down them in rivulets. 

//////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

The next morning you sit at your desk, making notes for Miller Construction to work off of  when the work phone rings. 

"Austin Rescue," you chirp in habit as you circle one of your notes. 

"Hey, you got a sec?"

Joel's rumbling voice sounds through the speaker of the phone, startling you. 

"Joel? How did you get this number?"

There's a pause where you almost feel Joel rolling his eyes at you before he replies flatly. 

"Phonebook."

"Right," you nod tapping your pen anxiously against the desk as you run through a list of reasons why he would be calling. "Is everything okay? Did the -"

"Everything's fine."

You can hear him clear his throat awkwardly. 

"Okay."

You let the silence continue, a bit confused as to why he is speaking so stilted. 

But then again after the pub maybe he doesn't know where you stand. You're not really sure yourself. It seemed like you two had gotten on pretty well the other night, but maybe you're remembering it incorrectly now that you don't have the hazy glow of victory flooding you. 

"You mentioned being free to babysit Sarah again back at the pub." Joel sounds as if he's pacing slowly back and forth when he's talking. "Wondered if that was still a possibility?"

"Uh, sure," you nod glancing at your wristwatch. "When?"

"You free tonight by any chance?"

"Oh, that's soon," you say as if it weren't obvious. You think of what time the next bus will come and if it takes you by Rancher Street. 

"I know its last minute and I'm happy to pay you whatever you think is fair."

You smile at his earnestness. "Don't think you can afford me, Miller."

You almost feel like you can hear him smile on the other end of the phone.

"Plus an extra fifteen dollar Tipsy Bison gift certificate that you can shove in Myrtle’s face."

You can't help but laugh gently at that. "What time are you thinking?"

"Seven." 

You look again to see you have a few hours. "Yeah that works."

"Great."

You go to hang up when you hear the catch in Joel's tone. 

"Uh, one thing, can you tell her that sugar monsters aren't real? She's been sleeping in my room all fucking week."

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

Why you didn't bring a jacket today is beyond you. A decision built on a house of cards made of asinine assumptions. 

You had assumed you'd be going right home after work instead of traveling over to Rancher Street. 

You had assumed the blue sky of the morning would hold out until the evening. 

You had assumed that you wouldn't find a hole in the bottom of your boot as you walked up the sidewalk to Joel's house in a downpour. 

These assumptions have you dripping wet and shivering when you finally get to the house, knocking feebly. Joel swings the door open, about to say something when he stops. His eyes swim all over your body, no doubt observing your drenched state. 

"You're soaked," Joel says after a beat, clearing his throat. "Uh, lemme get you a towel."

You enter the house with a sniff, toeing off your books and glancing around to see it looks cleaner than the last time you were here. None of Sarah’s toys litter the carpet; no bowls of cereal lay on the table. Joel reappears a few minutes later handing you a fresh-smelling towel.  You thank him, throwing it over your shoulders. 

"Sorry I'm late," you say pushing the damp hair from your eyes. "First bus was full so I had to wait for the next one. Then the fucking sky opened up and well, you know."

You motion to your soaking body and Joel looks strangely upset. A quick scan of him indicates you’re here to babysit Sarah so he can go on a date, probably with the waitress. To you it seems obvious in the jeans he’s picked (dark wash, a bit tighter in the thighs than you’ve seen him wear before) and the light blue button down shirt he wears rolled just below the elbows.

He’s also got fuck-me hair. 

Fuck-me hair is a phrase that you and Maria had come up with in college. Invented for frat boys that took hours to artfully arrange their hair to look slightly disheveled, as if they’d just had a good fucking. You don’t know if Joel’s is intentional or not, but he definitely has it.

He watches you silently dab at your clothes with the towel before rubbing it over your hair. You must look a state. You probably have fuck-this-rain hair.  You follow him into the kitchen, still sniffling as he goes to the coffee maker. 

"Here, drink this," he says sliding a mug of warm coffee in your direction. You take it with thanks, basking in the warmth of the liquid spreading through your body.  His coffee is strong, you realize, wincing as the acidic burn hits you belatedly.

“No good?”

“Wish it was a mocha,” you admit. “I like strong coffee to taste like a dessert. Save your judgments because I can tell just by looking at you that you’re a coffee purist.”

Joel about to reply when his phone buzzes and he picks up, moving to the other room. There’s the sound of his low murmur and then you can hear tiny feet making their way down the stairs and you smile. Sarah squeaks when she come around the corner and sees you, running over with a stack of playing cards. 

"You’re here!”

“I am,” you laugh.

“Daddy's teaching me Go Fish!"

"I love that game," you enthuse, smiling down at her. She seems to notice your damp apparel and towel slung over your shoulders because she looks you over, her tiny nose wrinkling. 

"Why are you all wet? Did you go swimming?"

You laugh. "No. It's just really pouring outside."

Sarah clamors onto the chair next to you, placing the deck of cards on the table between you. You begin a new round when Joel reappears into the kitchen looking embarrassed. The tips of his ears are red, a telltale sign that you noticed last time as well. 

"Place is closed 'cause of the storm. Blackouts all over apparently. Rescheduled with her for another-“ he stops himself as if this detail isn’t relevant to you or for his young daughter. “Guess you came all this way for nothing."

You smile down at Sarah, playing with a strand of her coiled hair absently.

"I wouldn't say that." 

Sarah smiles up at you before her attention is back on the cards in her hands. You look over to Joel to see him staring at you, only jolting to action when your eyes meet his. 

"Lemme give you cab money," he says going to reach for his wallet. You hold a hand up in his direction, waving it away.

"Please," you shake your head. "It's no problem. The bus comes by, like, every ten minutes and I’m already dressed for the weather."

It's more like every thirty but you don't want to make him feel bad. And if you get soaked, oh well, it's not that long a bus ride home. Sarah is watching you and her father with a quirk of her brow.

"Please take the money," Joel insists, his voice bordering on desperate. You can tell he feels awful for all of this.  

"How about I just borrow an umbrella?" You ask, motioning to the one at the door. "I'll bring it back next time I see you."

Joel doesn't seem enthused by this compromise but he nods, turning from you and heading to the pantry. 

“How about some mac ‘n cheese, Sar-bear?”

“You said we could get pizza,” Sarah scowls over her cards at her father.

“Well there’s a bunch of blackouts from the storm,” Joel reasons. “So I think it’s best if I make us something. Otherwise you might be waiting hours for something to eat. Your choice.”

Joel leans back against the counter, his arms crossed as he waits for her reply. You wonder if he’s serious, if he’ll actually let her choose. Your parents never gave you choices. It was eat or go hungry. 

Sarah sighs heavily at this disruption to her night, her disappointment palpable. “Mac n’ cheese.”

Joel smiles and gets to work filling a pot with water in the nearby sink. You decide this is a good time to make a quick exit. You stand only to feel Sarah's tiny hand shoot out to clamp around the waist of your sweater.

"Wait!" Sarah pleads with you, pulling gently. "No! Don't go!"

"Sarah," Joel warns sternly from his place beside the stove. He's placing the pot there, twisting the switch to turn on the heat. 

Sarah's eyes are huge in her tiny face. She looks so concerned that you drop to your knees, gripping her tiny hands in yours and looking at her earnestly.

"I’ll come back when your Daddy goes out next time," you promise. "I’ll bring cupcakes and we can decorate ‘em. What do you think of that?"

You can see Sarah's chin starting to wobble, her eyes filling with tears as she nods. She's clearly overtired, rubbing her eyes as she begins to whine. 

"But you just got here."

You shoot a desperate look at Joel, expecting him to look frustrated. Instead he looks bemused at you, indicating to the pot bubbling on the stovetop with a tilt of his head.

"Any chance you wanna stay for dinner?"

///

“Thanks for the dry clothes," you tell Joel as you move into the seat opposite him next to Sarah.  You're dressed in one of Joel's soft grey t-shirts and basketball shorts that go past your knees. Not exactly your sexiest look, but very welcome considering your other clothes were soaked.  

Joel glances up at you as you slide into your chair, smiling at Sarah’s already cheese-covered face.

"You stuff should be outta the dryer in an hour or so," he answers gently, spooning noodles onto Sarah's plate as quickly as she can eat them. You have to admit that after a few spoonfuls you understand her culinary exuberance – it’s really tasty.

You and Joel chat about the unexpected downpour, the sound of thunder in the back of your talks like some grim portend of doom. Joel brings over the salad bowl and steaming garlic bread still wrapped in its foil.

“I noticed you have that big tree out front of where you work,” Joel is saying as he cuts the bread into slices. “Ever worry it’ll fall?”

“Never thought about it,” you answer truthfully. In all honesty you’re so tunnel-vision-ed when it comes to work that anything outside the four walls seems like an ancillary detail to you. Sarah is tugging on your elbow and look over at her.

“Can we decorate blueberry cupcakes next time? Those are my favorite.”

You pause thinking about what’s available at the grocery store. “I can see what they have.”

Joel spoons a second helping of noodles onto your plate without being asked after you inhale the first. You thank him before turning your attention back to Sarah who has been in the middle of telling you both a very long, very serious dream she had involving my Little Pony and killer insects

"And there's was huge a huge uh, uh bee," Sarah stammers excitedly. "And it poked my arm and the pony she uh-uhh, she ran away so fast."

Joel nods, cutting off another piece of bite-sized garlic bread for her. She pops it into her mouth with her fingers, momentarily silencing her tale. Joel takes advantage of this, glancing your way. 

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"I think so," you answer thoughtfully. "I wasn’t exactly thrilled with having to spend the grant money on the office, but I’m trying to be positive about it. Might be nice to walk on floorboards without threat of a hospital visit.”

Joel smiles at this.

"I gotta ask, is this Kraft dinner?” you ask, looking down at the noodles. “Because it’s really-“

"Not a fucking chance," Joel interrupts clearly affronted as you laugh. “You think I’d feed my kid that junk?”

"Daddy you said f-" Sarah begins, her mouth full. 

"Oops," Joel interjects before she can finish, his face serious. "That's a bad word. I shouldn't have said it."

You hide your smile behind your water glass, taking a big gulp and chortling. Joel smirks over at you, his gaze dropping when you dribble your water down your chest.

"Oopsy," Sarah says as she notices.  

"Oh for-" you stop yourself from swearing just in time. You grab a napkin and blot at the ever expanding water stain. You give a half chuckle of disbelief at yourself. 

"Seems I'm determined to stay wet."

As soon as the words leave your mouth you hear a fork clatter onto a plate. You glance up to see a pink-cheeked Joel going to pass you a fresh napkin but his elbow hits the bowl of salad, toppling it to the floor. 

"Fuck," Joel hisses, dropping down to pick up the mess. Sarah watches the top of his head solemnly. 

"Daddy you said-"

"I know, sweetheart," Joel grumbles. 

You go over, helping him scoop the wilted leaves and assorted vegetables back into the bowl.

"At least you didn't put dressing right in it," you offer with a smile. "That would've been a pain to clean."

Joel is knelt so close to you that you can see the defined hair of his beard when you glance up at him in between scoops. He's staring at you, his mouth slightly parted. You feel insecure at the scrutiny, your brows furrowed. 

"What?"

Joel's looks like he wants to reply but then his eyes drop to your mouth and your heartbeat quickens. 

"Daddy, can we watch The Little Mermaid?"

The moment is broken by Sarah's shrill cry from above you at the table. You laugh awkwardly as you sit back on your heels. 

"Course sweetheart," Joel nods, helping her down from her chair. "You know how to work the machine."

Sarah bounces excitedly from her father, darting into the next room. You can hear the sound of DVD's being shuffled and you look back to Joel whose eyes are on your face again.

"Thanks so much for dinner," you say continuing to pick up the vegetables. "It was delicious, 'side from the salad of course."

Joel breaks into an easy grin at this, the boyish dimple clear in his cheek. You find you can’t look at him too long or you start to feel warm. And you shouldn’t feel warm about Joel fucking Miller for a lot of reasons; most importantly you’re only here because he was going on a date with a cute waitress.

You hear the gentle buzz of the drier finishing its cycle and you stand quickly.

“I better grab those and head out,” you reason glancing at the clock on the wall. “Got a lot to finish before you guys come this week.”

///////

Its hours later in your suite with rain still pelting against your windows. The lightning is sharp and the thunder rattles your window frame when it arrives. The fireplace is on, making your studio glow peacefully.

"C'mon," James pants from underneath you, his hips jerking up. He gives your ass a light slap. "C'mon sweetheart. Ride this cock hard."

James came to go over any last minute additions for construction tomorrow. When he saw how stressed you were he'd suggested a way to take your mind off things. 

Now you're riding him in your bed, his hands on your tits as he thrusts up into you. You can't help but feel underwhelmed. James is so fast, so quick, which doesn't lead to a very pleasurable experience. 

James also likes to hear himself talk, which would be nice if it wasn't so cock-centered. ("Come on this cock baby" "gonna stuff you full of this cock" and his personal favorite "take my cock"). 

It takes a lot of concentration, wriggling and clit stimulation from your covert hand to get you to come and when you do it's barely a whimper. James doesn't care - he follows soon after, his face reddening as he chokes out how good you feel. You both collapse next to each other on your narrow mattress. 

"Maybe I should stay the night," James murmurs against the top of your head as he circles you in his arms. "Maybe a little morning delight before work?"

Sex with Paul was nice if not a little boring. Sex with James is intense if not unsatisfying. You feel like a sexual Goldilocks, forever trying to fight the right porridge. And right now all you want to do is sleep.

"I'm pretty exhausted," you say faking a yawn. "Think I need a good night’s sleep and I can see ya tomorrow.”

He hides his disappointment behind a shrug before pulling back from you.

You tell yourself that sexual compatibility isn't always perfect the first time around. That it takes communication and time to perfect. This is what you remind yourself as James excuses himself to the bathroom to wash up. 

He’s almost there when something catches his eyes and your gaze follows his over to your sofa. You can see Joel’s clothes there, crumpled. You intend on washing and bringing them back the next time you babysit.

“Whose are these?”

James’ tone is light, but you can sense the unspoken tension.

“Joel’s,” you answer, pulling the sheet of the bed over your chest. “I was babysitting earlier and got caught in a downpour.”

“You could’ve called me,” James says tightly. “I’d have driven you.”

“It’s fine,” you say waving away his concern. You pull on a robe, stretching and padding over to the sofa to stand next to him.  “I’m gonna wash ‘em and give them back next time I babysit.”

“You’re sitting for him again?” James is staring at you with a look you don’t enjoy. It’s suspicious.  “Thought it was a one-off. S’what you said it was when we chatted.”

“Yeah but his daughter is actually amazing and he’s not so bad once you get past the grumpy exterior.” You shrug, giving him a peck on his cheek. James seems soothed by this gesture and nods before heading into the bathroom.

You look down at the clothes when the door closes, your forefinger trailing over the shirt. It’s soft and warmed from the fire. Without thinking you raise the shirt to your nose and inhale. It smells like Joel’s laundry detergent.

You start when there's a knock at you suites door, dropping the shirt back onto the sofa like you’ve been caught doing something illegal. You check your watch to confirm that yeah, it's late, almost eleven, and frown.

It's not Maria, she'd just come through the inside entrance. You pad over to an increasingly rapid knock and pull open the door, shocked at the figure standing there waiting. 

"Joel?"

He's completely soaked from the rain, droplets slipping down the end of his nose. Thunder booms behind him as he looks at you from under the brim of his cap. His eyes trail quickly over your robe before jumping back to your face.

“I’m sorry it’s so late.”

"Come in," you urge, closing the door after him and pulling the nearby towel from the kitchen hook. 

His dark eyes scan the room as he enters and you wonder what he sees in your modest studio. You know for a fact the bed is unnaturally disheveled and you pray he doesn't notice his clothes in a pile on the sofa. 

"Won't stay long," he finally says taking the towel and wiping his face. "I didn’t have your cell. I'm here to make sure about that tree by your building. When's the last time an arborist had been out to see it?"

"I couldn't say," you shrug before calling over your shoulder to James.

James exits the bathroom at your call, rubbing at his nose. He sees Joel and comes striding over. 

"Everything okay, bud?'

Bud? You frown over at James at this. You’ve never heard him use this term before. Joel is suddenly tense, his eyes darkening as he scans James’ face.  

"I couldn't remember the last time the arborist was out to give updates on that big oak outside the building," you explain to James. "Do you?'

"Years probably," James shrugs. "Why?"

"Because, bud," Joel expels this word as if it disgusts him. "When I saw it during the walk through I made a note that it looked pretty shaky. Was gonna call a guy I know to give an idea on safety but he charges a bundle and I wanted to make sure you hadn't already had a recent visit. Then this rainstorm started and hasn't let up and now the wind so I thought I'd come and check before its too late."

“Door to door service,” James observes with a flat look.

“Didn’t have her number,” Joel explains motioning to you and looking irritated at having to explain himself to James.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," James assures from behind you. "That tree has been there for decades of storms just like this one."

"I had no idea you had a background in horticulture," Joel says in a voice that verges on challenging. 

James steps forward, his shoulder brushing yours. 

"Well if your friend charges a bundle to tell people to unnecessarily uproot old trees I guess I went into the wrong career," James laughs obnoxiously. 

Your eyes ping pong in between the men, confused as to where all of this animosity is coming from. 

"Is it really necessary if it's that expensive?" You ask Joel, your mind going back to her already feeble budget. 

Joel's eyes drift back over to you and you’re thankful to see that they lose some of their chill.  "I think ---"

"It's not," James answers for Joel. His arm slips around your waist. "We'll see you tomorrow then, Joel? Unless there's something else?"

Joel looks thunderous. And you're strangely embarrassed for him. You move back from James, out of his touch. 

"Your choice."

Then he's gone, handing you back the towel and yanking the door open. You watch his broad shouldered frame move out the door and into the pouring night. 

/////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// /////// ///////

When you see the flooding in the morning of the construction job, you assume that you're imagining things. 

It's not until you wade in feeling the damp soak into your shoes that reality sets in.

Water is everywhere. The storm knocked over the tree Joel warned you about. It shattered the window, cracking the widow frame. Glass is all over the buckling floor planks. 

It also brought in the rain. 

Waterlogged files swollen with rot. Wood flooring planks warped and buckled. It's worse than you thought. 

James enters quickly after you looking even more devastated than you. He rushes to his desk, pulling open the locked drawer with trembling fingers. 

"The blueprints," he tells you as he begins to dig in the drawer. "I never made backup copies."

"He told us," you say through burning eyes. "Joel told us about the tree and we just -"

"How was I supposed to know a tree that hasn't given us any issues in the last ten years was gonna crash through the window? Huh?" James suddenly sobers when he sees your wet eyes. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

You want to be mad at James, but seeing how sorrowful he is makes you realize that this is just an awful mistake that no one, save for an overpriced arborist, could have accurately predicted. 

"There's no point in fighting," you say shaking your head. "What's done is done."

By the time Joel and Tommy arrive minutes later you're still trying to locate all the items that were once on your desk and are now in the shallow puddles and debris. 

Tommy offers a low whistle when he walks in, his eyes large. Joel follows suit, offering a soft "fuck" when he sees the damage. 

You’re still searching amongst the water, coming upon the trinkets you had in your desk, the jelly bean bowl, all of it is submerged in a thin layer of water and debris. The framed photos on your desk, the ones of Pongo and your parents are warped and impossible to decipher. You only know it's them by the frames that hold them and this is what breaks you. 

"No," you utter in a low moan when you see them. "No." 

The tears have sprung up, ones you keep hidden away, locked in your soul. They've escaped, slipped past your heart's jailer and are spilling brutally down your cheeks. 

James comes loping over, his eyes wide and nervous. 

"Are you okay?" James broaches gently placing a palm on your shoulder. "Can I do anything?"

The tears are warm and wet and despite how overwhelmed you're feeling, they still take you by surprise. James brings you into his arms, cradling you gently. You wipe at your face angrily with the back of your shirt sleeve, embarrassed.

"Do you want me to take you home?" James asks you but you pull back from him shaking your head. 

You feel embarrassed at being coddled like that and you feel uncomfortable in James' arms. 

You turn to see Joel and Tommy talking, Joel is looking irritatedly between you and James, frustrated at you for not listening to him last night about the tree. You've made he and Tommy's job here so much more work, no wonder he’s resentful.

"It was caught quickly, you'll barely have to dip into your discretionary spending," Tommy tries to assure you. "The stuff that's damaged was the stuff we were replacing anyway."

Not everything.

Your chin tremors, the hot tears sliding down your cheeks and again brushed away by the back of your wrist.

"Could've been way worse," Joel mutters more to himself than anything. "Don't have to cry about it."

The tone in the room immediately shifts at this last muttered comment. Tommy is straightening and shooting his brother a wild-eyed look. James is standing next to you, moving back when you shake his hand from your shoulder. 

Your anger works through your body like lightning. The tears come faster now, but now they're full of spite and fury. 

"I don't have to cry about it?" you seethe, marching up to Joel and holding up the ruined photographs. "These were my history, Miller. My only connection to the part of my childhood that wasn't fucking terrible!"

Joel is quietly staring at you, watching as you look at him with a look of mingled, anger and disdain. 

"But hey I guess I could just walk around miserable like you," you spit furiously. "How's that working out for your social life?"

You realize it's a stupid thing to say when only days ago you saw a waitress slip him her number, yet Joel still acts insulted, his jaw clenching. 

"Hey now," Tommy intercedes from across the room. You may be his girlfriend's best friend but Joel is his big brother. 

Joel tilts slightly forward and looks like he's going to say something low and quiet and just for you to hear. His face inches closer, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheeks. 

You stare at his mouth, waiting to see what he could possibly say after such an insensitive comment but then he's turned away and gone back to pulling back the debris by James' desk. You watch him go, wincing. 

"We can take care of the rest of this," Tommy assures you with a smile that doesn't quite reach his dark eyes. "If you want, I mean."

You know he's trying so hard not to push your buttons. He's trying to give you everything Joel can't at the moment; kindness and civility. You relent because he's kind and because Maria loves him.

"Sure."

James is determined to drive you home and you're too worn down to say no. The flood, Joel's attitude, the weather; All three have conspired to leave you battered today. 

James excuses himself to use the bathroom before you leave. You stand in the center of the waterlogged space and shake your head. All your hopes, your dreams, gone. Vanished. There won't be a dime left over for kennels now. And the photos you've carried with you from place to place? The good memories? Gone. 

Joel and Tommy have started to move everything salvageable from from the main area of the office back to the storage room which thankfully was barely affected thanks to it being built a few steps up. Small miracles. 

Tarps cover the furniture and the electronics have been stored in large tubs to take to the repair shop.

After coming out of the washroom with a spring in his step a few minutes later, James is much more pleasant than you are. 

He circles you waist with his arm, calling out his thanks to Tommy before he leads you out the door away from the cold gaze of Joel Miller. 

/////

"That asshole! I don't care if he's Tommy's brother I'm gonna kick his ass!"

Maria is pacing around your suite, her dark hair flicking behind her as you summarize what's happened that day at work and the cruelty of Joel's statement. James dropped you off hours ago trying to insist he stay but you were eager to be left alone with your thoughts.

Not even an hour had passed before you called Maria in tears.

She was to you in thirty, insisting that her work could wait. She hugged you when you showed her the photo frames, listened to what happened and jumped from the sofa the second Joel’s comment of ‘don’t have to cry about it’ was spoken aloud as if she’d been electrocuted.

“He’s not worth it,” you insist, your eyes on your interlaced fingers over your knee. “I just never want to see him again.”

“You won’t have to,” Maria insists. “I’ll tell Tommy to get one of the other guys to help him. You don’t need that grumpy bastard hanging around making you feel shitty.”

This is why you and Maria had been friends for so long, this instant call to action if the other is in pain. You would do the exact same for Maria (and have). Maria is already pulling out her cell phone and while you’d love the satisfaction of hearing Joel being removed from your project, you also can’t jeopardize things with Maria and Tommy. It’s going too good, the two of them too perfect for that.

“Just take a beat,” you tell her softly, motioning for her to come join you back on the sofa.

"I thought you two were getting along," Maria sighs disappointed. "I saw you two at the Bison and you were babysitting Sarah."

"I dunno," you shrug. "I guess he was really pissed off about the arborist thing."

"Still," Maria shakes her head disappointed. "I just expected better from him." 

You suppose you had as well which is why this has you especially upset. You’d thought you and Joel were working towards a friendship or something. The way you got along so well at dinner? Had you been imagining it?

“Oh shit I forgot,” Maria says suddenly slapping her thigh and jumping up. “I brought you kolaches. Be right back.”

She makes her way through the door connecting your places, closing it behind her in habit. You hear her jogging up the stairs to her kitchen. You smile at her thoughtfulness, idly wondering if she got them from that European bakery near her office.

You pause when you hear something over the light rain outside. It sounds like scratching. A panic goes through you at the sound. What the fuck is that? Rats trying to hide from the storm? For a fleeting moment you wish you had a cat.

Or worse, what if it’s a burglar trying to break in? There were break ins a few blocks away, Bill had told you recently. You think of calling Maria back, but she won’t hear you with the door closed. You rise slowly from the sofa, your eyes going to the butcher knife in the kitchen. Given your culinary prowess it’s mostly there for decoration, but today you’re thankful for it.

You strain your ears, listening to the sound of shuffling. Your heartbeat is in your ears as you raise the knife with one hand and use the other to fling the door open. A tall figure is hunched over your welcome mat, but you recognize the curls right away.

"Joel? What the fuck?"

You glance down to see Joel straighten, his dark eyes widening in surprise as he sees you and the butcher knife. He shoves his arm behind his back, speaking in a voice laced with irritation.

"I didn't think you'd be home."

"That's not a reassuring reason to be skulking around my place," you insist with narrowed eyes. You lower the knife slowly to your side, taking him in. He won’t look you in the face and his hand is still behind his back.

You feel your mouth curving into a scowl at the sight of him. He’s still dressed in his work clothes, the neck drenched with sweat. You hate that he’s been working at your office all morning. You hate that he’s come into your life at all.

“Surprised I answered the door?” you snipe. “Gotta admit I’ve been so busy unnecessarily crying I don't know how I was able to see in front of me enough to walk."

“Thought you’d be with your boyfriend,” Joel mutters, his eyes still not meeting yours.

“Nope, just here,” you answer flatly. You hear crinkling coming from behind his back and you are about to question it when you hear another voice from behind you.

“Joel?”

Maria has come back from upstairs and is now looking at the both of you in confusion. She looks at you and the knife and then back at Joel.

You hear Joel mutter something that sounds an awful lot like "Christ on a bike" under his breath. You shoot a confused look at Maria before turning back to face an increasingly jittery Joel.

"I just wanted to-" Joel looks uncomfortable having an audience, but finally he brings his arm out from behind his back and thrusts a bouquet of cornflowers, fall asters and petunias at you. The cellophane crinkles against your arm as you hold the colorful arrangement in shock, your other hand still holding the knife loosely.

"Was wrong, what I said before," Joel tells your shoulder. "Was havin' a bad day and you didn't deserve it. Won't happen again. Sorry."

He doesn't even give you a chance to reply. He just turns, his broad-shouldered frame moving away from the house with the speed of a seasoned athlete. You watch him throw himself into his truck, speeding away before you finally step back into your home and close the door, the flowers still clutched to your chest.

“What the fuck was that?” you ask a very amused Maria. She goes to your cupboard to bring down a vase before giggling.  

"That was the cutest thing I've ever seen."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #pedro pascal joel #pedro pascal characters #dad joel miller #fanfiction #fanfic #smut

[itsoutrageouss]

Like a bellflower - chapter two

chapter two of like a bellflower, a Joel Miller x Fem!Oc fanfiction

warnings: blood, violence, clickers, typical tlou things

words: 2,4k

Story taglist // chapter one

2. No ammo, no sleep

✿✿✿

The soles of my feet were aching. We hadn’t spoken since he gave me his name. I tested it wordlessly on my tongue, joel, joel joel. Lot of tongue work in the name. As we walked, the sun baked over os, glaring peacefully at the destroyed land around us. The suburb houses with vines snaking over the woodwork, a firefly mark on one of them, I noted. 

Joel didn’t stop, or talk so I didn't either. I hadn’t felt this kind of peace in a while, I noted. Since that day, that damned day when Kade found me, nothing but terror had reigned in my body. It still did, creeping and simmering in the backbones of my body, under the waves it bubbled but I left it undisturbed for the time. 

As we moved, I thought it more and more ridiculous that the horse wasn’t used to carry at least one of us- I understood fully that it's a lovely companion to have just in itself but in today's world survival and practicality came first, and anything could be used as something it wasn’t. And I knew for a fact that horses were often used to carry people. 

I think Joel saw it in my face, when he from time to time looked over the horse to make sure I was still there, and saw my envious glare on the bag that was strapped over the horse. He too didn’t say anything. I felt like I was playing a game with him. Maybe if I lost and talked first he’d leave me on the roadside and ride off. Just the thought made a rush of anxiety shoot up my throat and into my mouth, my teeth clenching down hard on nothing. 

I think hours went by. I put a hand on the warm, moving body of the chestnut horse and closed my eyes, letting it lead me forward. I imagined I was back in Spain. Lovely, warm Spain with the orange trees and the stone courtyards. The sun was the same that had shone on my child-self in the rural part of the country, as well as in the city, when it would peak through church bells swinging back and forth. Sometimes I wondered, if we hadn’t gone back to the US for those couple of months -we pendled back and forth between America and Spain ever since i was born- life would’ve been different. My dad loved Spain more than anything- he would’ve gotten around better than we did here. But of course, doing a worldwide pandemic no flight would take us back. Now I knew I would never get to see the beauty of it again, and I didn't dare think of how it looked now; drowned in the dust of ruin and violence. I imagined the entire country had been enveloped by an impenetrable bubble. Everything there would be the same, spanish men with tan skin and loud laughs, nuns with kind smiles, dusty cats snaking around your ankles in the plazas. 

“Belle?” Joel's gruff voice shook me from my daydream, and I realized that my eyes had been closed the entire time. When i opened them again, joel was in front of me, blocking the bright sun that now shimmered around his shadow like he was an angel. 

“Hm?” 

“If you’re needing anything, now is the time to stock up,” he said, moving out of the way. We were at the foot of a bigger city. The kind with skyscrapers that had cracked halfway down like an old tree in a storm. The kind where plants had overgrown over every surface. Despite everything, the plants thrived and looked more beautiful than when us humans had control over the world. Now we felt like subjects to nature again. 

“Okay.” I needed ammo. I actually didn’t have any left. When I had pointed my gun at Joel, it was as empty a promise as it could be. All I could've done was throw it at him really hard. Maybe he knew. 

“You need ammo,” he said bluntly and started walking. Yes, he definitely knew. I sighed. An old convenience store snaked around the first corner we came to. The windows had been smashed and it looked dark and wet inside. This city might be infected by thousands, I thought. I pulled out a little knife from my belt. 

“Behind me,” Joel ordered, and his broad shoulder obstructed my view, his hands up and steady around his gun, back held tightly in suspense as we opened the door. Strangely enough, the little bell still worked and rang loudly as Joel opened the door. We were greeted, unluckily. A hoarse, broken sound of something once human screeched out as soon as we stepped inside. 

“Hide,'' Joel hissed, pushing me to the side behind an old rack of magazines. I nearly slipped on the dirty tile floor, wet with mud and blood and footprints. I snaked along the isles and pressed up against the corner. Joel was ahead, peering out behind the magazines. Clicking noises. They made shivers dance up my spine and I had to stop my body from crawling in on itself. On my left, between the back wall and an old produce aisle, I heard a low snarl and a click click click. Those noises were impossible for any human to make, ear piercing even when whispered. 

Joel moved swiftly and I whipped my head around to see him charge forward and out of my sight. If he didn’t know about the second clicker, it would come at him unprepared when the other would howl into its death. And I couldn’t tell him. I clutched the knife until the bones in my hand shook and left footsteps of mud as I ran the other way from Joel. I didn’t have time to strategise, or sneak because I heard the roar of the other clicker. It was like the sound activated something in me because I hurled onto the other clicker, stabbing with all my might into the stringy, meaty neck of the monster. The feel of the knife penetrating through flesh ripped through my hand, but I did it again. And again. Its arms flailed out trying to pry me off by scratching along my legs. Being clamored to such a nasty creature made me want to run; fast, hard and far. Instead I stabbed it over and over wherever the knife would hit, hoping it wouldn’t tear my own skin on accident. A pair of very human hands grabbed the creature's head and flung it to the ground, shaking me off simultaneously. I fell flat on my ass while Joel put one last stab in its back and the sounds died out with a painful wheeze. 

The palms of my hands burned where they had scraped the ground, blood mixing with mud. 

“Are you okay?” Joel asked, his gun pointed to the ground, though he still held it tight to his body, peering out the broken glass and into the backrooms of the kiosk. I reached up, and to my surprise tears were warm on my cheeks again. I really had to stop crying so much. I nodded and went to stand up. My bones had seemed to liquify and I might've fallen into a puddle, like spilled ice cream if I tried moving. 

I was so tired. My body had been on high alert ever since- ever since I killed all those people, and Kane found me on the ground. At that moment I hated that I didn’t have any bullets. He thought I was dead, but I scattered like a mouse when he tried to ransack me for stuff. I surrendered fully to him and his group- the only people around me that hadn’t died. 

“Hey! Are you hurt?” Joel asked, louder and seemingly annoyed at my lack of response. 

“No.” I didn’t have any wounds, at least. With a slipping grip I held onto the aisle shelves and dragged my skeleton up. A handprint of dark blood was left on the white, shiny metal. I didn’t want to look at it, and didn’t want to know how I looked, splattered in blood and tears. I bet my hair was all messed up. I liked to be clean in this unsanitary world but found it increasingly harder as time went by to uphold the same face and delicacy as before. My personal battle with the world; I was a restorer of softness in a place where everything was dirty and old. It was an art I felt everyone around me had left behind- the small joys and beauties of caring for yourself. Nice smells, blooming flowers, red cheeks. 

I started, realizing I was just standing, with no purpose or expression. Joel was growing impatient and I picked up my knife, sheathed it after cleaning it thoroughly. 

Joel had already moved along into the next room. 

“You needed ammo?” he asked, muffled behind walls. I puffed up my chest and willed my feet to move. The room was dark and humid. His back was turned to me, broad and bending over crates. 

I didn’t want more ammo, truth be told. “Yes. I don’t have any at all, actually.”

“What gun do you have?” he was rummaging still, pulling things out and placing them in a bag. I didn’t know.

“This one,” I muttered, fishing it out and holding it flat in my palm, balancing it carefully without touching it. The blood on my hands was staining and creasing in the lines of my palm. 

He only took a look at it before turning back around. I went to put the pack of ammo into my bag. The cardboard was wet and the bullets nearly fell from the absolving encasement. 

“You’re supposed to put them in the gun, you know?” Joel said with a brow raised. The scarce hint of amusement and sarcasm was the most emotion he’d expressed in the last 8 hours of knowing each other. It made me nervous, i felt ridiculous because obviously they were going in the gun but i'd rather put it off. I fumbled and the cardboard fell apart beneath my fingertips and bullets scattered onto the tiles, clanging loudly. Joel raised a hand to silence me, looking around. There was a pregnant pause. No clickers. 

I fell to the floor and picked the bullets up one by one, putting them into the holster with gritted teeth. Now it was done. No one said I had to use it just because it was loaded, though that was probably what was expected of me. Joel kept looking at me as if he was trying to figure something out. I didn’t want him to figure anything out so I headed back out into the sun. I felt his eyes following me, and once again I hid behind the horse. The trusty, big horse that divided us. I felt the muscles of its stomach contract under my palm as I smoothed along its side where the sun had hit. It felt the dust that clung to its coat, sweeping it off meticulously until the chestnut brown shone brightly. 

“What’s your name pretty?”  I asked sweetly, feeling the unmatched softness of a horse's mule. It breathed warm air onto the bare skin of my arm, bowing its head like a greeting to me. Whatever was on Joel's mind, he seemed to have dropped it when he came back.

“Doesn’t have one.” Instead of shying away on the other side of the animal, he stood in front of me, a hand held out waitingly. I screwed up my face in confusion. Did he want me to shake his hand? Give him something?

“You can barely walk straight.” he replied to my silent question. I felt grateful, but I didn’t want him to know that my feet were dying. I wasn’t going to be a bother to him already, especially not if he would start pulling me on the horse like a kid.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind walking,” I smiled, but I couldn't make it reach my eyes. I remember my dad would pull the horse along when we had wandered for nearly two days. I'd lay on its thick neck, watching the trees stroll past with half-lidded eyes. Someone stole our horse, though. 

“You follow my rules when you’re with me. We’re riding.” He unbound the horse and got up himself, scooting forward so I could sit behind him. With some awkward difficulty, grabbing Joel's jacket to pull myself up and almost pulling him down, I got up. The horse was big and spacious enough to leave some room between us. My legs tingled with exhaustion; felt light like when you took off a heavy backpack and I fought not to lean forward for something to rest on. I felt the strong body move underneath my legs, shifting us side to side as we rode slowly forward. The sun filtered in and out between the trees as we rode through the city. I peered up at the broken skyscrapers, plants blossoming out of its cracks like the kraken attacking a pirate ship. The horse rocked me like a crib, and with the steady rhythm of hooves, my spine curled more and more. Eventually my head knocked against Joel's back every few minutes. I only took in the world around me in abstract terms, like an art museum. Colors, shapes, sounds, fading in and out of reality. I didn’t even realize when the hooves stopped lulling me to sleep. 

“C’mon, scoot,” Joel suddenly wasn’t in front of me, and I nearly fell forward, catching myself on the broad horseback just in time with frail arms. I dragged myself forward drowsily by his command until my hands could reach the thick, warm neck. I felt Joel behind me, his arms encasing my sides as he grabbed the toils again. His legs squeezed the sides of mine to keep me falling. I tried to start myself awake somehow, tried grabbing the toils or lifting my neck that was impossibly heavy like lead. 

“Just go to sleep,” Joel's voice was soothing and low, and I'd barely registered his words before I fell backwards into him, head lolling against his shoulder. He didn’t move and I dozed off in a matter of seconds, but not before a little, warm tear rolled down my cheek. I hadn’t felt safe going to sleep for years before now.

✿✿✿

taglist:

@orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @rav3n-pascal22 @anyalc0h0lic @morgaussy @joelmillersblog @frecklefacelm @leqonsluv3r @jasminmariesworld @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @dugiioh

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[lovebugism]

the "you're cargo" to "it's okay, babygirl" to "it wasn't time that did it" pipeline goes so fucking crazy bro

#joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou spoilers #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us spoilers #bug watches stuff

[azertyrobaz]

Parents lie

#the last of us #the last of us spoilers #tlou #tlou spoilers #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel #anna williams #ashley johnson #hbo #hbotlou #look for the light #my edits

[dreametheworld]

#the last of us #the last of us tv show #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us spoilers #tlou spoilers #joel miller #pedro pascal #darcy posts gibberish

[calkestis]

PEDRO PASCAL in Explain This by Esquire

#pedro pascal #joel miller #din djarin #swcast #star wars cast #tloucast #swcastedit #tloucastedit #pedropascaledit #ppascaledit #ppedit #useremi #userelio #tusercora #xuserannie #usernik #tuserpolly #useraurore #tusermarissa #mine #****