#joel miller's hands

[toointojoelmiller]

Happy New Year 💙

Joel Miller's unreasonably attractive hands ™️ pt 1

#joel miller #tlou hbo gifs #the last of us gifs #my edits #pedro pascal #joel millerisms #joel is too hot #joel miller's hands #big hands #I think my new meds = I'm slow at getting things done right now. Don't worry! Still updating my fics and more gifs coming soon :)

[polaroidpascal]

lunch box || joel miller

AO3 || MASTERLIST || FREE PALESTINE

pairing : joel miller x f!reader

summary : joel’s stubbornness has him working at ungodly hours on your saturday morning. you decide to do something nice for him, but of course he would realize your absence in bed, especially so early when you’re supposed to be off…

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, reader briefly gets picked up and carried, no outbreak, domestic life with joel, sarah and ellie briefly mentioned, joel is mid-to-late-30s, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v sex (practice safe ofc!!), joel being big slightly mentioned once, lots of talking and praise (my man cannot shut up), creampie, cum eating (reader teasing joel lol), general sweetness from them both <3

WC : 2.7k

a/n : this is the first fic i've ever written and posted so enjoy !! :)

Ever since you met, you knew that Joel was the one. Talking with him is easy, like your souls have known each other in every lifetime. Being in his presence is safe and comforting. He feels like home. On top of that, after you had been seeing each other for a while and he let you meet Ellie and Sarah, they made you feel so welcome in their family. Life just makes sense with them.

Joel has been a contractor all his life. Even though he can set his own hours, he prefers to start working early so he can be home with his daughters when they finish school. Today — a Saturday — was weird, though. The project he had been working on needed to be rescheduled because of weather, but Joel decided to keep his hours the same. You could tell he didn’t really want to get up so early on a Saturday, but his stubbornness forbade him from changing that. Last night as you drifted to sleep in his arms, knowing he would probably not have time to get lunch tomorrow, you decided you would do something nice for him. 

Sarah and Ellie spent their Friday night away at a friend’s house (which you and Joel definitely took advantage of the night before), and the house is eerily quiet when you stir awake in the wee hours of your Saturday morning. You can feel Joel’s sturdy arms draped over your sides, his entire body pressed against your back as if he’s scared you’ll float away if he doesn’t keep you close. You hear his slow, sleepy breathing in your ear and you know he’s still dead asleep. Carefully, you lift his heavy arms from you and slip out of his grip, kindly replacing yourself with a pillow, and resting his arm back down. 

He stirs to adjust a bit and settles once again. Success.

You head to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, Joel's life support in a cup, and pull out the things you need to make his lunch. After, you head back to the bedroom to grab a comfy change of clothes. You wait out the brewing with a quick shower hoping it’s less noisy than you think it might be. 

While you shower, Joel stirs awake a little before his alarm. He shuts it off to avoid the noise and turns back over seeking your figure — but you’re gone. Confused and still groggy, he gets up searching for you. He hears the shower running and…

Is that… singing?

He puts his ear up to the door and hears you faintly singing the songs he plays on his guitar for you, trying to be as quiet as you can. His heart swells at your beautiful sound and he almost opens the door to join you, but then the smell of coffee begins to fill his nose. He walks into the kitchen to see the last drips fall into the pot and the ingredients for a hearty sandwich sitting on the counter. Putting two and two together, he nearly tears up realizing your plans and decides to sit to the side and wait for you, not wanting to ruin your surprise.

You throw on your comfy silk pajama shorts and one of Joel’s old band t-shirts that swallow you up and return to the kitchen.

You don’t notice Joel at all.

He watches silently from the dark living room as you pour a glass of coffee for him into his favorite owl mug and glide around the kitchen putting his lunch together. He admires your freshly washed hair, already air drying a little bit, the way his t-shirt, oversized on you, drapes over your curves perfectly, and how you continue quietly humming his songs. A small fire ignites deep inside of him, and as you turn around to pack his food, he rises from his chair.

He silently saunters over stealing two big sips of the coffee you poured for him. You hear the cup clink lightly on the counter and turn around just as his big hands glide over your hips, embracing you from behind. “And here I was thinking I was surprising you,” you tease as his face buries into your neck, his naked torso pressed completely against you.

He chuckles. “You did, angel. I just saw it before you were ready, ‘s all.” He kisses and nips your earlobe and you mewl at the sensation. He trails down to your neck while his hands gently guide your hips back into his, feeling him start to grow through his plaid pajama pants.

“Joel…”, you whisper as you turn around in his embrace to kiss him. You find his hungry lips waiting to invite you in. He tastes deliciously like the coffee you made for him and you hum contentedly at it. Your hands trace his bare sides and chest all the way up to his hair, and you run your fingers through his messy locks.

As if he’s not stiff from sleeping, he hoists you up from the floor carrying you as you straddle him, hands still dancing through his hair, and brings you to the couch. Without breaking your kiss for even just a second, he puts you down laying on top of you as you descend, a comfortable weight that he knows you love to feel. His kiss melts into yours and your lips feel like they become one. He breaks away despite your protesting whine and quietly teases, “You know you didn’t have to get up so early on your day off just ‘cause of me, right? I’d probably have time later to pick somethin’ up,” and his lips fall back to yours, one of his hands coming up to tease your breast.

You moan softly, “Well, with your luck, today would be the one day you wouldn’t find time. Besides, I felt like surprising you.” You smile coyly at him and watch as his pupils grow somehow even bigger at you.

He stares for a second trying to figure out how he got so lucky finding you, and a smile threatens to erupt at the corners of his mouth. “You’re so sweet, you might give me a cavity.”

Your chuckle is cut off by a small gasp as he kisses a line down your neck, his beard ghosting your collarbone. Once he reaches the collar of your — well, his — shirt, he descends lower, sticking his whole head under the shirt that engulfs you. He kisses up your stomach until he reaches your chest, taking one nipple into his mouth and you gasp again. His tongue moves firmly over the growing bud at a quickening pace. “Yes, Joel…” you whimper, then suddenly whine as he bites you, quickly soothing the mark with his tongue.

His free hand rises up to replace his mouth as he moves over to give your other side the same treatment. You pant from both movements happening simultaneously, him drawing out more whimpers and moans from you. You squirm underneath him accidentally grazing his own growing member and he groans, already painfully hard for you. His sounds send a sudden rush of heat straight to your core. He continues at your nipple, one bite in particular causing you to cry out and you could swear you feel his cock twitch against you as he moans in reply, another rush of arousal already flooding within you again.

He kisses a line down your chest, down your stomach, until his hands find the hem of your shorts. Your legs spread making room for his broad frame as he drags your panties and shorts down, seamlessly replacing them with soft yet hungry kisses where they once sat. He tosses them to the side, licking and kissing his way back up your thighs, nipping at the sensitive inner skin.

Joel’s eyes practically look pitch black, his pupils so blown out with lust, when you see him eyeing your throbbing core and he groans.

“Good lord, sweetheart,” is all he can manage as he admires you glistening for him. His eyes trail up your body. He could come just from the sight of you: legs spread eagerly, eyelids heavy, pupils just as blown as his own, desire written on your face in big bold letters…

And you see how desperate he looks for you, but a sly smirk quickly spreads across his face, “Bet you taste even sweeter than you act.”

Unable to control his hunger any longer, he fiercely licks one broad, flattened stroke up your middle, tasting the fruits of his labor. He moans at your taste, sending vibrations over your clit. You let out a cry of pleasure and his hips subconsciously rut into the couch, desperately seeking some relief for himself. His tongue glides through your folds, broad strokes accompanied by tight circles around your clit and the occasional dip inside…

“Fuck, Joel!” you cry as he focuses at your hole, his thumb replacing his tongue at your clit drawing tight, fast circles as his tongue dips in and out of you. “Oh my god… yes, please… feels so…”

He can only moan in response, sending lightning through your body with every sound he makes. “Please… oh, my g-… don’t stop, Joel… I’m so close…”

He can feel your impending release and between gasps for air, he practically begs, “Let it go, angel… that’s it… come all over my face… doin’ so good for me…”

His words send you hurdling over the edge as you come — hard. Your hips drive up into his face, head dipped back, crying out in pleasure. Joel refuses to let one drop go to waste, lapping up your slick like an animal. He licks you through your orgasm until the aftershocks and twitching die down some. Then he rises back up to your face. “Taste so good for me…” he says as he kisses you deep, lips and beard soaked. You moan from his taste; like coffee but with a sweet hint of you mixed in, and he swallows every little sound.

He breaks from your lips, your foreheads touching and lips barely ghosting over each other. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, darling,” he whispers as he reaches down to free his cock from his pajama pants.

“Please…” you beg, eyes lazily gazing into his own. “Fuck me, please.”

He looks deep into your eyes as he rubs up and down your heat, coating himself and he slides in without any problem, going slow when you gasp so your body can adjust to his size. But your body seems to draw him in, swallowing him whole and pulling him into you deeper and deeper. “My god…” he gasps as he feels the lingering spasms of your soft walls choking his cock.

You can only manage to whine in response, your eyes silently begging him to move, and he obeys. He begins slowly moving in and out, already embarrassingly close to his own climax, but he desperately wants to feel you unravel on him. Gradually, he finds his pace, bottoming out inside of you over and over and over. Refusing to break eye contact with you, his free hand dips down seeking your clit as he furiously traces tight, swift, calculated circles round and round.

Your eyes bolt shut at the feeling of him filling you up and teasing your clit. You’re well past the point of forming full sentences, and he can tell. Breathlessly, he tries to coax more from you, “Look so pretty taking my cock, angel… so good… fuck, you feel so good… ‘m not gonna last, sweetheart…” His pace is unpredictable, plowing into you for a few thrusts and then slowing down to a near stop to avoid finishing too early. “Need you — oh, fuck… god, almighty… n-need you to come for me, darling… please…”

As he begs for your release and his hips begin to falter, he finds that spot that only he has ever been able to find within you, rapidly sending you over the edge again. Your walls constrict suffocating his cock. You writhe and whine, almost unable to even make a sound.

He works you through your orgasm, his own rapidly approaching as he watches your eyes roll back from pure bliss. “Yeah, just like that, gorgeous… shit, you’re soaking me… fuck me, dripping everywhere… fuck… Oh my god, I’m—”

He cuts himself off with his own grunting and groaning as he begins to paint your walls with his come. He whines and gasps, bottoming out with every wave of his orgasm until his cock twitches for the last time. He collapses over you, crushing you in the best way with his weight as he tucks his face into your neck. You’re both panting, your chests crashing into each other as you come down from your highs and try to recover.

Joel finally softens enough to pull away without completely overstimulating himself, grunting as he rolls off of you and brings you to your side, spooning you and leaving small, tender kisses on your neck. His hand rests over your waist just as it did when you awoke this morning, and you lay there for a little while your heartbeats return to a normal pace.

You feel his come slowly leak out with his absence but you don’t even care. Being in his embrace washes away any other thought from your brain. All you can care to think about is the strong man clinging to you as he comes back down to Earth, holding you close and never letting go. You’re listening to his breath trying to fill his lungs once more and feeling his raging heartbeat through his chest and against your back. This is your personal heaven. Wishing you could live in this moment forever, you close your eyes and savor the feeling in all its glory.

You feel your body threatening to drift back asleep, but one particularly deep and content sigh from Joel reminds you that he is, in fact, supposed to be leaving for work. Glancing at the clock, you gently remind him of the time, your smile audible as you say, “You have just enough time to clean up and put on your clothes. Good thing your lunch is already packed.”

He gives a breathy chuckle and hesitantly gets up with that classic dad groan he always gives. Even though all he would really like to do is spend the rest of eternity lying right here on this couch in this moment with you, duty calls. He glances between your legs and sees the mess he made. You catch a glimpse of his look, his ferocious blushing visible even in the dimly lit room as he stares quite obviously at your middle. 

Feeling particularly mischievous, you reach down to collect what you can, scooping it up as it coats your fingers. Joel’s mouth drops open in a stupor, watching in disbelief as you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick your digits clean. You unmistakingly see his breath hitch at the sight and know that if time weren’t the major issue right now, he would pounce on the opportunity for round two.

“Goddamn, angel…” he says shakily, still in utter disbelief. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re lucky I have a job to go do,” he tells you with a dazed, fucked-out look and tone as he retreats to the bedroom to attempt to get ready for work. You get up and slip into the bathroom to clean yourself up some more before returning to the couch exactly the way he had left you. 

Emerging from your bedroom dressed with lunch in hand, he spots you drifting off back to sleep and walks over to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. Before you completely succumb to the drowsiness, you manage a soft and sweet, “I love you.”

He smiles and bends back down to plant another, longer kiss right to your lips and whispers back, “I love you more.”

He sees you smile at that before he turns for the door and quietly leaves for work, already counting down the minutes of his shift left before he can come back home to you.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou one shot #joel miller one shot #this is what happens when the mental illness gets WAY too out of hand

[azertyrobaz]

Joel is deaf in his right ear, so he will sleep on that side when he has to be on his guard, like in the forest, or until Tess showed up back in Boston. But he turned around during the night to be closer to Ellie and didn’t hear Henry and Sam showing up.

#the last of us #the last of us spoilers #tlou #tlou spoilers #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel #tess servopoulos #anna torv #tess #ellie williams #bella ramsey #ellie #henry #lamar johnson #hbo #please hold to my hand #my edits

[pettyprocrastination]

The Revenant Wife

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of grief and death. 

Summary: Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband. 

Word count: 1.6k

Note: ficlet is based off of this previous post about Joel getting separated from his wife during the outbreak and assuming you died until you find one another years later. Reader is described to look like Sarah. Title came from the ever lovely @djarin-junk​ <3

Tagging those I think would enjoy: @pedrostories​ @thesadvampire​ @joel-mlller @softanon​ @max--phillips​ @captainsamwlsn​ @hooplahoopla​ @moondirti​ 

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

Ellie didn’t know that Joel had a wife. 

Granted, she didn’t know much about his old life at all. 

She knew he built things. That he had a brother named Tommy and a daughter named Sarah, but didn’t like to talk about the latter that much. In one fleeting conversation, full of mumbles as her eyes began to close while they rested under the night sky she heard him mention you but was far too gone to truly hear what he said. Nothing more than the vague rumble of his voice saying “my wife” before her eyes opened once more. 

“You’re married?”

She asks with such incredulous shock it sounds more like “somebody married you?” but girls at her age hardly ever have filters. 

“I was.” 

There’s the same bristle in his throat and far off look in his eyes as when she first asked about his daughter. An open answer but one that carries enough unsaid to tell Ellie of your fate. To warn her that she should change the subject or simply shut her mouth and go to sleep before plucking his raw nerve one too many times until he snaps- 

“What was she like?” 

But Joel learned early on that Ellie wasn’t one to follow warnings. 

“Kind.” His breath stutters. “But not a pushover- she didn’t take shit from anybody.” He stares up at the sky, feeling his chest grow tight and fingers twitch by his side until there’s a rustling, the girl next to him rolling over to face him and he turns to find Ellie peeking out from her sleeping bag with a smile. 

Damn this girl. 

“Not even from you?” 

Joel scoffs. “Especially from me. The amount of times she gave me and Tommy and earful-” he shakes his head, Ellie watches a smile grow on his face in silence, as if worried she may frighten it away. 

“Did she cook?” 

Ellie thinks of the stories the older kids would tell her. The ones who remembered life before the Outbreak, who told her of freshly baked pies on weekend and fluffy pancakes in the morning. 

Joel remembers the first time you tried to bake him a cake for his birthday back when he was sixteen. How he opened the door to your forlorn face and a store bought sheet cake in your hands because as your mother told him over the phone, you damn near burned the whole house down trying to bake for him as a surprise. 

“From time to time.” 

There was only so much she could get out of him before his voice became clipped and eyes full of an emotion she didn’t quite know the name of that he told her to get some rest. Leaving her with nothing to do but to stare at the sky and wonder about these stories in the shape of a woman who unveiled a little bit more about the mysterious man she traveled with. 

Of all the silence and secrets that made up the man that protected her, she created stories to fill them. Stories of Joel Miller, husband, father, brother and badass contractor that everybody loved.   Of his soldier brother, of his wife and their smiling daughter between them both. 

In Ellie’s mind, you didn’t work. 

But not in a ditzy lame way like some boring housewife. But just because you didn’t have to. 

Joel said that everybody loved contractors so that means he probably got paid like, a ton of money to build stuff for people so you got to stay at home all day. Ellie imagined your house to be ginormous. Maybe Joel made it himself for you when you guys first got married. It was big enough that when Joel came home everyday he’d call out your name and it’d echo through  the hall as you called him into the kitchen, where your daughter sat reading as you set dinner on the table. Sometimes you’d get upset if he came home late but then he’d kiss your cheek and you would roll your eyes but smile before you all sat down and ate as a family. 

Ellie imagines Joel’s daughter, she wonders if Sarah looks more like her mother than her father. 

Ellie wonders as the sleep takes over her body, if they could have been friends. 

When it happens, months later after she’s come to think of Joel as something akin to family and he thinks of her as something he can’t say out loud just yet, she’s shocked. She’s face to face with a woman holding her at gunpoint that looks nothing like the smiling mother she dreamt of during cold nights. 

You don’t match the stories Ellie made up in your head.

You’re mean. 

No. Mean isn’t the right word. 

Cold. Yes. you're very cold. 

Ellie watches in shock as you ask where they're headed, gun focused on the center of her chest while the two boys at your side point their own at Joel, who has yet to speak. 

She waits for him to answer, but he just stares at you in awe. The same man she’s seen kill and threaten to keep her safe day in and day out is rendered speechless until all he can do is utter your name and she realizes that he knows you. More than that, judging by the way he surrenders his gun to you with no fight, something she had never seen him do. 

You lift your head to look at him, the brim of your hat raises just enough to clear the shadow cast over your face and Ellie can finally see your eyes and the snarl on your face. 

You’re also very pretty.

“I won’t ask again.” 

The two boys standing on either side of you have your eyes. Same color and intensity, narrowed into slits like guard dogs waiting for an order and Ellie sees the way Joel stares at them. 

She wonders if Sarah had brothers. 

“Out west.” He manages. “Takin’ her to her family.” 

Your eyes move to her and she holds her hands higher in the air. 

“That true?” “What?” 

“Is he telling the truth?” 

The taller one, Duke, she had heard you call him, had already ripped the bag from her back and emptied its contents onto the ground, she had nothing else to hide from you. 

But then she sees something in your eyes. A concern for her that she hadn’t seen since Tess or Marlene. 

And she understands. 

“He’s telling the truth.” Ellie forces out. 

You watch her for a moment and there’s a moment of panic where she thinks you can see right through her lie. 

But then you lower your gun and jerk your head over your shoulder. 

“C’mon.” is all you say before you begin to walk away. The boys gawk at you for a moment before you give them a look of warning and they follow in your step, occasionally casting glances behind them at Joel and Ellie who follow suit. 

She’s quick to grab onto the sleeve of Joel’s jacket and pull with a harsh whisper as the other’s march forward. 

“You know this psycho?” 

Joel flinches at her voice as it pitches up. If any of you heard her, which he gathered you did because Ellie didn’t have an inside voice to save her fucking life, you didn’t care enough to react. 

Ellie whispers his name again. Insistent and angry for answers but he just keeps looking forward. He can’t take his eyes off of you or the boys ahead and it fills her with worry but she doesn’t know why. 

“She’s my wife.”

You lead them to a cottage. Its paint is chipping and the fence is reinforced with wiring around the perimeter but it looks like a home. She can vaguely hear the soft clucking of chickens nearby and there's a flash of fur behind the fence with a pair of pointed ears that duck away just as fast as she saw them. 

Ellie has seen the remnants of homes before the outbreak. The plates still stacked in the sink and the jacket still hung up on the hook. A story telling a family that once lived within its walls and is now nothing more than memories that ghosts along its foundation. 

But this one is real. It’s yours. 

 There is a rickety wooden table in the dining room. Each chair around it seems to have been brought from a different house and is varying shades of faded brown. You kick the leg of one and nod toward it.“Sit, both of you.”

Ellie looks to Joel before sitting. He follows suit, choosing the chair closest to her. 

“I’m gonna get some bandages for that leg-” 

Joel shifts forward. “I don’t need-” 

“I wasn’t fucking asking, Joel.” 

You’re not stronger than Joel, if she had to guess. You both look the same age, but she’s seen his strength, his violence, all done for her safety and knows if it came down to it, you might not win in a fight against him. 

But at your order, he sits back in his chair. 

You turn and set a shoulder on your son’s shoulder. 

At least. She thinks he’s your son. 

Softly spoken words are exchanged while the other keeps his eyes on Joel and his hand on his holster. The boy says something back in insistence, but you tilt your head and he nods. 

“If either of them try moving or taking anything.” You offer them one final look over your shoulder before slipping out of the room. “Shoot them.” 

They listen to your footsteps slowly retreat until there’s nothing but the subtle creak and groan of the wood floor beneath them. Ellie leans forward to look at Joel, setting her hands firmly on the dinner table in announcement. 

“Dude-” The young girl breathes out. “Your wife is a bitch.”

#revenant wife tag #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #this is just a little blurb because I havent written in a hot minute #mostly from ellies third pov so i hope the sort of juvenile internal thoughts make sense #joels wife is a sort of scary badass gal with a lil farm #joel miller x female reader #@ the blogs who asked to be tagged but had zero header or age in their bio: do better #tumblr please dont rearrange the order of this again im BEGGING #not pictured in the fic: joel punching duke in the face and wrestling the gun from his hands before the other twin shows up followed by you #and now joel has to grapple with the fact that 1. his wife is alive 2. she had children 3. he just sucker punched his own kid

[iamasaddie]

joel miller hand erotica ep. 5

#pedro pascal #joel miller #hand inspo #iamasaddie extra

[scrambledslut]

being delusional about middle aged men is my roman empire

#and honestly it’s a proud hobby of mine. #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #edward teach #ofmd #tommy miller #david tennant #alec hardy #mads mikkelsen #michael sheen #norman reedus #daryl dixon #javier peña #francisco morales #dieter bravo #crowley #taika waititi #stede bonnet #izzy hands #jeffery dean morgan #arthur morgan #oscar isaac #and all of my other baby girls who i can’t remember right now

[joeldidnothingwrong]

being a brat on joel's lunch break

#bovine ass #fat fuckin hands #wanna piss him off #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal #my gifs

[talaok]

Hello!

I was thinking about this a little too much today. I often read fics / drabbles about Pedro being all sweet and flirty or him being very confident and flirty … I just want to read a fic about him being the worst flirt ever 😅 I know he’s a flirt in his interviews , but what if he’s really bad at it when it’s time to really seduce someone. Like he messes up what he wants to say , he makes stupid jokes that don’t land.

Do you think you could write that?

summary: Pedro is a bad flirt

A/n: I'm genuinely sorry this took so long, but I had to study like a bastard just for my professor to be an asshole

"please introduce me to her"

"why don't you go there and do it yourself?"

"because I can't"

"why?"

"please"

"fine"

__ __ __

It was a relatively small party, just a few friends and some friend’s friends, nothing huge.

Vanessa, your best friend, had insisted on throwing it, encouraging you to “live a little now that that asshole isn’t in the picture anymore”.

“That asshole”, was indeed your, as of two weeks, ex-boyfriend.

Neither of them had ever been fans of each other, and thinking back at it now, that should have probably been if not red, at least some kind of colored flag.

Anyway, as always, when it was V talking you into something, you had accepted, with a few conditions of course.

Hence, the small party and your playlist playing in the background.

“Y/n, did you know that?”

right, you should have probably been listening to the conversation.

“Uh, no, it’s news to me” you topped with an awkward laugh you hoped would go unnoticed.

“that’s crazy, you learn something new every day” Ryan commented, making you wonder for a sec if perhaps you had actually missed something interesting.

Just as you turned to Claire beside you to investigate, everyone’s attention moved to Vanessa as she strolled toward you.

Not unusual, you thought, she wasn’t a woman that got unnoticed.

What you found when you turned too, however, did pique your interest.

A man walked beside her, Pedro Pascal.

He fell into the friend-of-friends category.

He was one of Vanessa’s oldest friends from back when she studied in New York. She talked about him sometimes, but you had never actually met him, which, thinking about it, why was that?

"hi there, how's it going?" V asked

"very well, Pyke here was telling us that sharks do not have bones"

There it was, mystery solved.

V raised her brows clearly unimpressed "Wow, well that's great" she patted his shoulder, as everyone made space for the pair.

Pedro still hadn't spoken, and a match of awkwardness lighted as you all came to the same realization.

"Alright then, I think I'm gonna get another drink" The shark expert spoke, and all of a sudden Claire and Ryan both got really thirsty too as they followed him to the kitchen.

A strange smile pulled at V's lips 

"Anyway, Y/n, this is Pedro" she gestured "Pedro, this is Y/n"

You felt like one of those women in period dramas when their mothers introduce them to a man they think they should marry.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you" You shook his hand "V has told me about you"

"H-hi" he cleared his throat "it's very nice to meet you too" 

" Pedro's here to film a movie"

"are you?" you asked, interested

"yes, I- Uhm- I am" 

He looked nervous, and you had no idea why.

"Can I know which, or is it like one of those secret Marvel things?" you joked.

"Oh, no, of course" he laughed, "It's Weapons, it's like a horror movie"

"oh" you winced "Well that's lovely, but you'll have to forgive me if I'm not going to watch it. I hate horror movies"

"Oh, why?" he asked looking genuinely perplexed

"I get scared very easily, and... I'll sound like a 5-year-old, but every time I watch one I have troubles sleeping"

"oh that's fine" he laughed " I get it" he nodded "You don't look like a five-year-old at all" he blurted out, his eyes instantly widening as his brain realized what he had just said "Sound! I meant sound like a 5-year-old" he breathed "you look- you look extremely beautiful, not like-" he stopped himself before he could talk again, and just let out a small "oh god"

You shot Vanessa a glance.

"it's fine" you laughed "I got it," you reassured him, placing a hand on his bicep.

"so, since I'm not going to watch it, why don't you tell me what's about?"

His eyes found yours again, something sparking inside of them at the question.

"Oh you know, it's about guns and swords and rifles," he said with a smile.

You couldn't hide your confusion

"I'm sorry?" you asked, half-laughing

"y'know, because it's called weapons" he explained, his voice getting smaller as he realized the joke had bombed.

"Oh" you laughed, actually laughed "Of course! I'm sorry!"

"No, no don't be sorry it was a stupid joke"

"it was funny, I'm just..." You mimicked something with your hands.

"Y/n!" a shout from across the room caught your attention.

Mary was waving desperately at you, which could only mean that she had either broken another piece of furniture or wanted to do shots.

Neither of those options seemed particularly interesting, for some reason you wanted to know more about the man in front of you.

However, you also couldn't ignore one of your best friends.

"I'll be back in a second, I just need to make sure she hasn't broken another vase" you joked with a grin.

"o-ok" he nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed harshly.

"get ready to tell me about all those weapons!" you called out, already walking to the kitchen.

Once you disappeared, Vanessa raised an eyebrow at him, her expression an open book.

"Don't say anything"

"I'm not"

"good"

there was a brief moment of silence before Vanessa couldn't hold it anymore.

She busted out laughing

"Guns and swords!?" she laughed, recalling his joke

"Shut up"

"And the five-year-old thing!?" she kept going "Dude you've been drooling over her for two years and that's what you go for the moment you finally get to talk to her?"

He couldn't do anything but sigh "I need a drink," he said "And I thought it was funny"

"Yeah, you were the only one, my friend"

#did I write “you mimicked something with your hands”? #I indeed did #here to bring lazy writing to a whole new level #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x actress!reader #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #the mandalorian #javier peña #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal smut #fluff #daddy pascal #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal imagine #pedrohub #Pedro Pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedrito

[perotovar]

@tlounetwork​ | The Last of Us Week 2023 day 7: free choice -- Joel + Gun Competency

#tlouweek2023 #tlounetwork #thelastofusedit #pedropascaledit #ppascaledit #the last of us #joel miller #oaks #was this just an excuse to gif ~hands~? #MAYBE SO #pedrito

[toointojoelmiller]

Joel Miller...

confiscatin'

wrong-way drivin'

stackin'

double datin'

processin' burn

#joel miller #joel doin' stuff #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou hbo #just joel things #giant hands #that's all #my gifs

[orangechickenpillow]

Hi this is the worst thing that could have happened to me today, actually

#THEY WAY THEYRE JUST CASUALLY HOLDING HANDS #GIVE ME THAT BTS RIGHT NOW #tlou spoilers #hbo tlou spoilers #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller #pedro pascal #ellie williams #bella ramsey #bella and pedro

[jobean12-blog]

Can't Keep my Hands to Myself

Pairing: Pre!Outbreak Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 1,922

Summary: You and Joel have been flirting and dancing around each other for months but neither of you have made a move so Tommy decides to take matters into his own hands and plans a night out.

Author's Note: Here is my second story for Kinktober! One of my favorite things ever are a man's hands and Pedro and his hands are like porn so here we are. I literally just melt when I see them. It's real. LOL Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, teasing, tension, pet names, light praise, mentions of a-l-co-ho-l, light di-r-t-y talk, semi-pu-b-li-c s-e-x, f-in-ger-in-g.

PS the way he fucking rubs the arm of that chair. IS HE FOR REAL?!?! WTF PEDRO. How am I to live? Anyway, enjoy <3

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Why do you keep checkin’ the door?”

Joel’s question makes Tommy pull his eyes away from the entrance of the bar as his lips spread into a wide smile.

“No reason big brother.”

Joel’s eyes narrow as he grinds his teeth.

“What are you drinkin’?” Tommy asks him, ignoring Joel’s gruffness.

“Whiskey. On the rocks.”

Just as the bartender finishes pouring the amber liquid and Joel lifts the glass to his lips he catches movement by the doorway. It swings open and you walk in.

You don’t see him yet but he can’t take his eyes off you. He watches over the rim of his glass as you scan the crowd with slow steps.

“I didn’t know she was comin’,” Joel mumbles before downing the rest of the whiskey.

“That a problem?” Tommy asks with a smirk.

“No,” Joel states. “Course not. Why would it be?”

Tommy and Joel stare at each other, an unspoken challenge in their eyes, until you shout Tommy’s name and launch yourself into his arms.

“Hi Tommy!”

Tommy wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek.

You slip from his grasp and turn to Joel.

“Hey Joel,” you say, more quietly.

You lean in to kiss his cheek, missing how his eyelashes flutter closed and his grip tightens on the drink he’s still holding, the glass dwarfed in his large hand.

“Hi darlin’,” he replies.

You start to catch up with Tommy and order a drink, the whole while feeling the weight of Joel’s eyes on you.

“Do you want another?” you turn to ask him, eyeing the empty glass still clutched in his hand.

Your gaze lingers on his hand longer than it should and Joel clears his throat.

“I’m good,” he answers, still watching you intently.

After Tommy finishes off his third drink he excuses himself to the bathroom and you find yourself at the bar alone with Joel.

“I’m going to have one more,” you state, more to yourself than him.

You lean over the bar and try to get the bartenders attention. As you’re doing so, a body knocks into you, throwing you off balance and into Joel.

With an ‘oof’ you practically land in his lap, your palms pressed to his chest and his hands planted firmly on your hips.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out as your body instinctively moves closer.

“Are you alright darlin’?” he murmurs, still holding onto you.

“What?” you say, blinking at him.

“You ok?” he asks again.

“Um…yeah. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…that guy is drunk and…”

“It’s ok,” Joel says.

Your hands slide up his chest and onto his shoulders as you right yourself. He still doesn’t let go of you. The man behind you teeters again and bumps you, causing you to slip between Joel’s spread thighs.

“He’s really drunk,” you whisper, your face only inches from Joels.

“Seems that way,” Joel grumbles. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Fine,” you assure him, not wanting to move.

Joel’s eyes drag away from yours as he looks over your shoulder. The drunken man is still wobbling on his feet so Joel slides his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, getting you out of the way.

When he removes one of his hands from your waist and rests it on his thigh your eyes are drawn to the gesture. Your skin heats as he spreads his thick fingers and rubs his jeans.

“If he doesn’t move I’m going to make him,” Joel growls.”

Your eyes lift and you meet his gaze. “Hmm?” you ask.

Joel studies your face. “Sure you’re ok princess?”

“Princess?” you repeat, glad to have his solid body keeping you upright.

The corner of Joel’s mouth lifts slightly and his eyes sparkle.

“Totally fine,” you whisper.

When the drunken guy doesn’t leave Joel stands, keeping you tucked safely into his side as he shifts his body protectively in front of you to block you from any more harm.

You feel Joel stiffen when the man knocks into him and just as he’s about to tell him off, the man’s friend rushes over and pulls him away from you both and the bar.

“I hope he has a ride home,” you mutter.

Joel just grunts, his body still pressed to yours as he cages you against the bar.

Tommy returns from the bathroom with a satisfied smug.

“What’s goin’ on here?” he asks, raising his brows as he looks between you two.

You and Joel stare blankly back before quickly separating.

“Nothin’. All good,” Joel mumbles, sitting back down on the barstool.

“Some guy was drunk and kept bumping into me. Pretty sure Joel was about to kick his ass but luckily his friend saved him.”

You giggle and look at Joel, grinning when he winks at you.

“You never got your drink?” Joel says as he waves down the bartender.

He orders for you and gets another whiskey for himself.

While you wait for the drinks Tommy fills you and Joel in on his latest dating escapades. You’re listening, trying to focus, but when Joel starts to mindlessly smooth his hand across the bar top it distracts you and you find yourself drowning in thoughts of what his hands would feel like on your bare skin.

“Babe?” Tommy says, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Yeah! Hi!” you squeak. “What did you say? I missed that.”

“I could tell,” Tommy teases before repeating his question.

You don’t dare look at Joel because you can feel his eyes on you.

You manage to stay involved in the rest of the conversation but then Tommy gets a phone call and walks outside the bar to take it.

You fiddle with your empty drink glass and avoid meeting Joel’s eyes.

“What’s goin’ on with you princess?” Joel asks.

He mimics your movements, twirling the whiskey glass between his long fingers. You watch the action instead of answering.

“Can you stop?” you ask, a bite in your words.

“Stop what?” he counters, leaning into your space.

You huff out a sigh of annoyance and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why do you keep staring at my hands?”

Your mouth falls open and then you close it abruptly.

“I am not!”

“Yes,” he murmurs as he takes the edge of your stool and pulls you and the seat between his spread legs, “you are. Wanna tell me why princess?”

“I’m not a princess.”

You press your lips together and raise your chin defiantly. His lips curl slowly upwards as he lifts his hand and ghosts it along your thigh, his touch so light it makes you shiver.

Your breath rushes out in a sigh and you drag your teeth over your bottom lip.

“You have hands!” you blurt out, feeling flustered.

He stops moving his fingers and presses them into your skin.

“You’re right about that darlin’,” he smirks. “I do have hands.”

“Joel!” you huff. “What I meant to say…”

You trail off and look for your drink but you finished it a while ago so instead you grab Joel’s whiskey glass and throw back the last sip.

“You have really nice hands and your fingers are so…so…”

After you say the words you dip your chin and settle your gaze on his fingers pressed into your skin. “They’re so big.”

When you lift your face to look at him his jaw is clenched, the muscles flexing as he holds your gaze. Your eyes drop to his mouth and then wander over his beard.

“See somethin’ else you like princess?” he simpers.

Your fingers reach out, hovering just centimeters away from his lips and your breath hitches when you feel his grip on your thigh tighten. The air between you crackles with electricity and it feels like your skin is on fire.

He murmurs something you don’t quite catch, tilting his head closer as his calloused fingertips slide over your silky skin.

The moment is broken when you hear your name being shouted over the noise of the crowd. Joel’s eyes snap up and he pulls back. Your turn to see your friend coming toward you. Her excited hello breaks you out of your haze but you barely have time to say anything to Joel before your friend whisks you away to the bathroom, going on about how great it is to see you and how she has something to tell you that absolutely can’t wait.

After giving her as much attention as you can muster without being rude you excuse yourself and sneak out of the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to get back to Joel.

Before you can turn the corner of the dimly lit hallway a strong hand wraps around your arm and you’re yanked into something hard.

You gasp but sag in relief when you lock eyes with Joel’s dark brown irises, feeling his chest brush yours with every breath he takes.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, tension radiating off his entire body.

“Missed me that much?” you counter, batting your lashes.  

His eyes darken at your cheekiness and your eyes light up in victory. He carefully backs you up toward the wall, trapping you against it with his body.

“Think I’ll keep you all to myself for the rest of the night,” he whispers, his voice hot against your ear.

With an arch to your back you press closer, lowering your lashes as your fingers dance up his chest. When you hear your name, a whispered plea on his lips, you comb your fingers through his hair and tug on the soft strands.

His hand slips around the back of your neck and draws you closer, his mouth so close you can feel his warm breath.

You lift a challenging brow and he growls, squeezing your neck harder as his free hand smooths down your curves, teasing the hem of your dress.

He dips his head, inching closer and at the same time his fingers move higher, grazing between your legs. You tremble in his arms.

With a hiss he runs a finger over your soaked panties. His touch is teasingly light and you spread your legs, opening them in a silent invite.

“Good girl,” he praises, pushing your panties aside and sliding his finger through your wetness, gathering it before he circles your clit.

“Tell me princess. What do you want?”

“You…your fingers,” you whimper as you circle your hips. “Fuck me with your fingers.”

His groan is guttural and in sync with your wanton moan as he slips a long finger inside you, pushing deeper when you beg for more.

It isn’t until you’re chanting his name and quietly pleading that he adds a second finger, fucking you in earnest.

Your eyes flutter closed but he slides his hand from the back of your neck and settles it at the base of your throat, putting light pressure before his thumb presses under your chin and he pulls your focus to him.

“No, keep your eyes on me. I want to see you come for me.”

You’re instantly on the edge, teetering so close that the slightest stimulation will make you shatter. With a swipe of his thumb across your clit he pushes a third finger inside you, the stretch bordering on pleasurable pain and you come hard, crying out his name.

He draws out your bliss, fingers still buried deep inside you as he growls in your ear, “you’re going to remember just how much you love my hands with every step you take tomorrow.”

@lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @pedritosdarling @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pre!outbreak joel #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #pre!outbreak joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #pre!outbreak joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #kinktober 2023 #hand kink

[azertyrobaz]

We'll get through this.

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #ellie williams #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #tlou hbo #please hold to my hand #my edits

[iamasaddie]

joel miller hand erotica ep. 3

#iamasaddie random #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us hbo #hand inspo #hands

[thelightsandtheroses]

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When Joel finds you on your self-assigned insomnia bench one night, it sparks an unexpected friendship that quickly develops into more. Finding peace in the middle of an apocalypse always seemed impossible, but being with Joel feels natural, like a missing piece has fallen into place at last. However, when a ghost from your past surfaces and threatens to destroy the peace you’ve found in Jackson, everything will change.

Overarching Series Warnings - 18+ blog - minors do not interact, unexpected friendship, developing relationship, idiots in love, flangst, typical TLOU content, references to cults, references to past manipulation, references to past violence, references to PTSD, single parent reader (child is a teenager), age range implied but try to avoid specifics, some secondary original characters, etc. No use of Y/N, any further warnings to be added as appropriate.

Title from the Explosions in the Sky song of the same name.

One: I was just coasting till we met (2.5k) 11th Sep Drabble: You're face to face with the man who sold the world (1.1k) 23rd Sep Two: there goes the fear again (4.3k) 26th Sep Three: I found it hard to find someone like you (4.4k) 12th Oct Drabble: and my soul has changed, and my heart (1.2k) 12th Nov Four: rumours about my hips and thighs and whispered sighs (4k) 25th Nov Five: we’d only die of lonely secrets (3.4k) 27th Dec Six even the iron still fears the rot (4.4k) 27th Jan Seven: me and the devil, walking side by side (5.4k) 25th Mar Eight: don't let this darkness fool you Nine: Ten Epilogue

If you would like to be added to to the taglist please let me know. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs.

Moodboards and other things Moodboard #1

#your hand in mine fic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us hbo #aka the insomnia bench fic

[ghostfanwriter]

🧰 💖 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕 💖 🧰

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln

🧰 Synopsys: Bill found out about you and Joel, and you try to adjust to life without him again.

💖 Warnings: A bunch of angst, sorry.

🧰 Word count: 6.5k

💖 Author's note: This was gonna be the final part, but needless to say I got carried away. Enjoy, I cried my eyeballs out writing this one 🩷 (I love this gif, it looks like he's looking between reader and Bill)

Your eyes are wide open as soon as you process what's happening. Joel underneath you, your head resting against his chest, Frank at the door and Bill standing near the bed, a shotgun in hand.

"Dad, please, put this gun down. Let's talk." You say nervously, supporting yourself on your elbows when you see Bill's shotgun aimed straight at Joel's face.

"Get off your bed." Bill tells you coldly and sternly, calling you by your name, and you obey, uncovering both of you, standing between him and Joel. "Now get out of my way." He says, his eyes fixated on Joel, waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Daddy, please, I can explain." You try to ease him, your voice shaky and high, and he looks at you, his stare cold and distant.

"There ain't nothing to explain." He says, walking to his side, his aim back on Joel.

"Please." You insist, following him, his gun pointed directly to your chest.

"Joel's on your bed. What else do I need to know?" He asks, his voice low, coated with an angry and impatient tone, one he rarely uses towards you. "Maybe I need to know since when this has been happening? Or maybe how could Joel do this to me? To you?" He asks, his gaze lifting, and you sense Joel getting up behind you.

"Dad, this is not what you're thinking. Last night we were talking, and we fell asleep, and that's all that happened, I swear." You say, fighting the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes, trying to stay calm.

"You know what it seems like... baby?" Bill asks with a sinister calmness. "It seems like Joel is sleeping with my daughter!" He snaps, taking his finger to the trigger, and you press your chest against his gun, your whole body trembling, and Joel's eyes widen, a move his nostril mimick as he feels like he's going through hell again.

A gun pointed at him, and a girl he must protect shielding him.

He can't let this happen again, he can't let you put yourself in danger because of him. He touches your shoulders, trying to pull you away.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Your dad yells, and you close your eyes, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks in fear of how this is gonna unfold. "Don't fucking touch her!" He yells again, and you press your chest further into his gun, Joel's hands leave your body, staying high to try and ease your dad.

"Bill you're pointing a gun to my daughter!" Frank says nervously, trying to not startle Bill and make him pull the trigger accidentally. "Put this fucking gun down!" He says firmly, his voice now louder, and Bill looks at you, his eyes softening when he realizes your chest is against the gun.

"Frank, you..." Bill starts, then turns his head to look at his husband, his tone again dangerously calm. "Did you know about this?" He asks, and Frank's eyes falter, the anger and nervousness in his face melting down.

"Bill... I... I didn't wanna tell you becaus—"

"You lied to me?" Your dad whispers, and for the first time you sense sadness in him. "You all fucking LIED TO ME!" There's anger again.

"Dad—" You nervously try to talk to him.

"YOU, baby! You lied to me! You... My babygirl... You lied to me. I'm you father, I... I've always kept you safe, healthy, comfortable, away from everything, I... I taught you how to handle yourself, and you... You do this to me? Behind my back?" He says, his crying consuming more of his expression and voice with every word.

And his words make you feel horrible. You're ashamed of yourself. You should've talked to your dad, you couldn't have lied to him. You should've been honest and let him know about your feelings for Joel since they started blooming. You shouldn't — you couldn't — have been so selfish.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You try to say between tears, your voice small and high.

"Bill, it's not her fault—" Joel starts, but your dad cuts him.

"Of course it's not her fault! She's a kid!" Bill snarls, shouting at Joel. "I gave you a house to stay, I gave you food, we made a deal! I trusted you inside this town... Inside my house! And this is what you do to me? To my daughter? Taking advantage of her like that?" He violently spits at Joel, who's staring at the floor, not holding Bill's eyes.

He isn't even defending himself.

It's like he's ashamed of himself, like he agrees with your father. Not for the reasons you do, but because he thinks he should never have touched you.

But you know your father is wrong. Joel wasn't taking advantage of you, you wanted him to do everything he did.

He likes you just as much as you like him, you two share something.

Right?

So why isn't he responding? Why isn't he telling your dad what he told you last night? That he is thinking about staying with you, that he wants to do things right?

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry." He finally says, his voice sounding small for the first time. "But nothing happened. We just slept, nothing else."

"I don't wanna know what you did or didn't do to her. I want you out of my house, out of my town, out of my fucking sight as quickly as possible or I'm not gonna think twice before blowing your fucking brains." Bill snarls, his voice again in a menacing low rumble.

You've never seen your dad like this. This angry and violent. Not when infected appear near the fences, not even when those raiders tried to invade the town.

And you've never seen Joel so small, so ashamed.

Is he ashamed of being with you?

"Daddy, please, don't do anything." You plead, taking a step towards him, and he takes a step back, not looking into your eyes.

"I want you out of here. Quick. Don't give me time to rethink this." He tells Joel coldly, leaving the room, passing by Frank without looking into his eyes neither.

"I fucking told you to be careful." Frank says after Bill goes downstairs, unable to hide his frustration as he stands in the door, looking at Joel and beckoning with his head for Joel to leave your bedroom. Joel goes without looking back, and you call him.

"Joel, no... I, please... My dad can't do this, he can't tell you to leave like this." You cry, and his gaze softens. This is what he never wanted, to watch you hurt like this. "You don't even have any food left, you have wet clothes on the clothesline... You can't go." You plead.

"Joel, go pack your things." Frank says, and Joel purses his lips before turning back around and leaving your bedroom, his eyes avoiding Frank's.

You sit on your bed, crying copiously. Because of everything. Because you lied to your dad, to an extent you lied to both of them — Frank had no idea you and Joel were this close —, because you saw Joel fall asleep and didn't wake him up.

You're crying because of how Joel reacted, because of how he agreed that he was wrong. You're crying because... Because you love him, and he's going away, and you're helplessly watching him go and never come back.

And you're watching as he shows no resistance whatsoever. He didn't try to explain, to defend himself, he didn't try to ask to stay.

He just agreed that he was wrong and that he had to leave.

Frank kneels on the floor in front of you, holding your forearms tight. "Love, look at me. Stop crying." He says gently yet firmly, but you can't stop the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You hug him tight, your words muffled by his shoulder, and any leftover of anger in him melts away at your pain.

"Darling. I need you to stay calm, ok? I'll keep your dad in our bedroom and you're gonna help Joel get ready to leave."

"I can't... I can't help him leave me." You cry, and Frank dries your face with your own shirt, using the fabric that's covering your stomach.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get up, you're gonna take his clothes that are on the clothesline, you're gonna pack him something to eat and you're gonna give it to him. Put the wet clothes in a plastic bag and make sure he has enough food to go back home, ok? It's a two day trip." He says. "Do that for him. He's gonna appreciate it, ok? You're not helping him leave, there's no choice there. You're just taking care of him one last time and making sure he's gonna be ok." He says, and you agree, nodding and trying to control your tears. "C'mon, let's go." He says softly, taking your hand in his and guiding you downstairs, soothing you when you look at Joel's bedroom, keeping you focused on doing what he asked.

You take Joel's clothes out of the clothesline and pack him a few roasted vegetables, some of your dad's cans of ravioli, orange juice and water.

You take it to his bedroom, stopping at his door. He has his back turned to the door while he packs his things.

"Joel." You cry out from his bedroom door, and he looks at you, his eyes red and regretful.

"I'm so sorry, baby." He says, his voice low and raspy, from sleep and from crying.

"It's not your fault." You say, placing the bags with his clothes and food on his bed. "I saw you fall asleep, I should've told you to go to your room." You confess.

"No, baby. I mean I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for ever touching you, for ever doing everything I did to you." He says, and the regret in his voice hurts you.

Every touch, every whisper, every look... It was all new and overwhelming for you... And regretful for him?

"You regret everything?" You ask, your voice small and hurt.

"No. No, baby, I regret nothing." He whispers, walking closer to you. "You made me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again." He cups your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin under your eye. "But look at what it did to you." He says, wiping your neverending tears away with his thumbs, a few more escaping his own. "This is all I know how to do. Hurt everyone I love. You didn't deserve to feel any of this, my angel."

"You made me feel alive, Joel." You say, holding his wrists. "I'm only hurting so much because of how you make me feel. Because what I feel is new, is real, and because I don't want you to go." You say, hugging him tight, burying your face in his soft and good smelling shirt.

"My baby." He says, hugging you back, his hands on your back and the back of your head, your tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt as you hold him, trying to memorize what his embrace feels like. Not ever wanting to let him go.

"Where you really thinking about staying?" You ask softly, and you feel his chest rumble with his chuckle.

"I was." He squeezes you tighter. "But I don't want you to think about that right now." He says, pulling back to look at your face.

"Why not?" You ask softly, looking up at him.

"No need to hurt yourself even more with what could've been, baby."

"But I wanna know." You plead, and he sighs, smiling softly.

He walks you to his window, holding you close as he points to the house across the street from yours.

"I'd renovate that one. See how much grass it has behind it? I'd put fences there and make a small ranch. Raise some... Sheep, maybe. I'd look for the seeds you wanted. Maybe make a tiny greenhouse, grow some wheat so we could have bread. We'd have even more things to eat." He says, his eyes glistening and his lips in a smile that weakens when he looks down at you, your gaze focused on the house across the street.

It's never gonna happen.

"Would we live together?" You whisper, still focused on the house.

"If you wanted, yes. I'd love to." He smiles, fixing your hair, tenderly playing with it, trying to registrate it's softness and smell as he pulls you closer, his nose buried on your hair.

"Joel... My dad can't do this. You should stay. Stay for a few more days, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll fix this." You say, hugging him tighter, determined to not give up just yet. "He can't do this." You repeat, your eyes welling up again.

"He can. And he's right, it'll be best if I go." Joel says gently.

"Not best for me." You cry, your lips trembling under your emotions. "He can't do it." You say once again, like a mantra, your face darkening this time, as anger consumes you. "He can't keep me from making my own decisions." You say.

"Listen to me." Joel says sternly, calling you by your name, his hands holding your face so you have no choice but to look at him, his eyes as soft as ever. "Your father has his reasons. I need you to promise me you're not gonna hold this against him." He says, and you shake your head. "You won't get mad at him, you won't let this in any way get in the way of the two of you." He says sternly. "Can you promise me that?" He asks, softer this time, and you shake your head.

"I can't... He's making you go. Go back to the QZ, you said your life there is miserable." You say, crying.

"Promise me." He says, once again saying your name, using the same voice he used when his weight was on top of you, his hands all over you, his smell on your nose, his lips on yours, his hot breath on your neck.

The voice that makes it impossible for you to say no to him.

He gently taps your cheeks with his thumbs, raising his eyebrows, asking for a response.

"I promise." You say, and he hugs you tenderly, savoring your presence while he still can.

"That's my good girl." He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek, and you cling tighter to him. To imagine never feeling his warmth again, his comforting embrace, his presence...

And he's gonna miss you just as much. Your pretty clothes, your bright smile, your citric scent, your cooking, your laughing, your voice, your curiosity and genuine interest and care for him.

You're still indulging in each other's presence when Frank shows up by the door, his already red eyes watering as he sees you two by the window. He clears his throat before speaking, and you two look at him, just turning your heads, not pulling one inch apart.

"Bill's in our bedroom. He agreed to not leave, to let you go." He says, and Joel nods.

"Alright, I'm ready to go." He says, trying to pull you away, but you hold onto him, desperate to not lose this.

"Darling, let him go." Frank says, his voice shaking.

"I can't." You cry, your body not ready to allow this. To allow him to go forever.

"Baby, look at me." Joel calls, lifting your chin, and you let him maneuver you. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. You'll be careful when you go outside, you'll take care of your parents, you won't be upset with your father." He says.

"Joel..." You cry out quietly, and he gently shakes his head.

"Promise me you'll let me go. You won't hurt yourself with what could've happened. You'll try and forget about all this." He says, his own chest hurting.

"I can't forget you, Joel." You say.

"And I won't forget you, baby." His voice breaks. "I'll think about you everyday. Everytime I feel sad, I'll come back to us, I'll remember you when I need comfort." He promises, making your heart ache. "But I need you to be ok." He says. "Can you promise me you'll try?" He asks.

"Joel..." You cry, feeling powerless and desperate, your chest tight.

"Baby, I need to know you're gonna be alright. I can't have the pain of leaving you hurting like this." He says. "I can't know I let you down too." He cries in a whisper, his voice almost inaudible.

"I promise." You recompose yourself. "I promise I'll try. But I'll hope to see you every day Joel. Every day." You say. "I'll never run out of hope." You promise, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Joel smiles, his eyes scanning your face, his fingers tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear. "I'll always love you, baby. You're forever with me, I'm never gonna hurt alone again." He says, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head before softening his arms around you.

You cry, releasing your grip around him and sitting on his bed, watching him put his backpack on. He grabs your chin, making you look up at him, his thumbs run over your cheeks, feeling your soft skin one last time, as if trying to memorize your face, and you run away to your bedroom. He looks at Frank, sighing sadly.

He can't believe he hurt you this much. He let this all happen.

"I'm sorry." He tells your dad.

"I'm sorry too." Frank responds.

He walks past your bedroom and you call him.

"Joel!" You say, your voice shaken by your crying. He looks at you, a hint of relief in his eyes; you didn't run from him.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks gently.

"Here. I took a photo of Sarah's photo. You talked about how it was fading, and I wanted to make sure it lasts for a little longer." You say, handing him her photo, his eyes flooding at his girl's smile.

"Thank you, baby. It means the world to me." He says, caressing her photo, feeling that there's another photo underneath hers. He pulls it and finds a picture of you, sitting under the sunlight, wearing a pretty dress and an even prettier smile.

"That one is so you don't forget about me. I sprayed some perfume in it." You smile weakly, and he chuckles, his eyes glistening as he smells the photo.

"I could never forget you, baby." He smiles, touching his forehead to yours and cupping your face the way he always does; your ear between his thumb and index finger while he caresses the skin under your eye. "Take good care of yourself. I'll always be thinking about you." He whispers, pulling back to kiss your forehead before looking at Frank. "Let's go." He says, looking into your eyes one last time before walking down the stairs.

And you watch him go. Trying to keep yourself together to not hurt him, but feeling like there are a million feelings stirring inside you, just waiting for him to disappear so they can erupt.

And as he walks past the gates, and then disappears in the horizon, that's exactly what happens. You collapse onto your bed as you cry. You cry like you've never cried before. You cry until your chest and your stomach hurt. They hurt and they burn in a way that feels like they're never gonna stop hurting again.

You cry until the pain eases. Until your head hurts more than your heart, then you stop crying, trying not to think about him. Trying to not think about what's gonna be of you now.

You have your parents until they die.

And then...?

Loneliness wraps you in a cold and dry embrace, and you fall asleep.

About an hour later Bill leaves his bedroom, finding Frank seated on the stairs. "Let me pass." He says, and Frank gets up.

"Bill... Please don't break our daughter's heart. Don't tell her Joel used or abused her, she really likes him, in ways you still don't know." He says. "And — sigh — I believe him when he said he likes her too.

"You believe he likes her, Frank? He was in our daughter's bed! He was in my babygirl's bed! God knows what he did to her!" Bill growls, keeping his voice low as tears threaten to fall again.

"Bill, I understand, but-"

"Don't defend him, Frank. I haven't forgotten you lied to me. You knew what he was doing and you didn't tell me anything." He says. "You asked me to let him go and I did. I did because I couldn't kill him and have her hate me the rest of her life. But you don't fucking ask me to try and understand him." He says, nudging Frank out of the way and going to your bedroom.

...

He unlocks your door — that you're locking again, now that Joel's gone — and walks in, watching you sleep.

He sits at the edge of your bed, right beside your lower back, and gently caresses your hair. You feel it and wake up, turning eagerly, hurting yourself with the hope that it'd be him.

"Hi, dad." You say, for the first time disappointed to see your father.

Bill looks at you. For the first time he doesn't know how to talk to you, what to say to you. He honestly doesn't even know why he came to your bedroom.

"... How are you feeling?" He asks a few seconds after parting his lips, not finding anything better to say.

You look at him, your eyes burning as they flood again, and you advert your gaze, not sustaining your dad's anymore.

He tries to soothe you, caressing your hair and softening his gaze, feeling bad because of how much Joel hurt you. Because of how selfish he was.

He thought of Joel as a good man. Even if older than you, he seemed to be a good man, a good man for you. He could provide for you, he could look after you. He could keep you happy and safe. Bill knows he made you happy. He saw it in your smile every time you were around him.

The problem is he decided to do that under his nose.

You can't help but cry again. Your dad's touch, that always soothed you when you needed, now stings the skin on its path, like if his own touch knows it took something away from you.

"He lied to me... And look what he did to you, I've never seen you cry like this." He says, genuine worry in his voice.

"I never cried like this because I've never had anything like this, dad. I never had anyone like him, I never felt like this... Loved like this." You manage to say, and Bill's eyes harden, his hand stopping its caress and pulling back.

"I don't know what kind of delusions he put in your mind, honey, but he doesn't love you more than your father and I do." He says sternly.

"I'm not saying that. He never said that." You defend yourself and him. "But for the first time I felt like a woman, not a child." You say, and his eyes narrow.

"Did he ever touch you?" He asks.

You hesitate before answering.

"He never did anything I didn't want him to."

He gets up, angry and exasperated. All under his fucking nose.

"I can't fucking believe this. How could I be so fucking.... Argh!" He screams, frustrated with himself.

How could he be so careless?

"He said you lied to him. Said you told him we've had other people around. When I told him we haven't, and I've never even kissed anyone before, he said he wouldn't do anything to me." You say, your voice starting to crack as you remember that first night... How he felt, how he held you, his strong arms maneuvering you so effortlessly, his beard scratching your skin, his big hands squeezing your body in such new and good ways, his smell, his warmth. How good it felt to finally be kissed.

Your eyes burn as you think about how you're never going to feel that again, how you'll never see him again.

"The worst part of all this is seeing you like this, my love." He says, sitting by your side again and caressing your hair. You need some comforting, so you curl into a ball, resting you head on his thigh and waiting for his hand to come to your hair.

Seeking comfort in the one that's causing you so much pain.

Your crying gets uglier, and your father soothes you.

"He ruined our family." He continues. "We were happy, we were in peace. He came and everything changed, he made you lie to me, do things behind my back. Made you point a gun to your own chest." His voice darkens. "I've only ever seen you so hurt when I got shot by those raiders." He says.

"The only two times in my life I knew I could lose someone." You cry.

You weren't living before Joel, life was comfortable and you were happy and safe, but there was not much more to it than cooking, cleaning and gardening. He gave a reason to want to dress up, to cook something good and different, to wanna play songs on the piano and to feel more hope in your future.

Because even in the comfort of Lincoln's fences, you knew your future held loneliness and solitude.

"And that someone did what he did knowing you could come out of it hurt like this." Bill says. "For that I don't think I'll ever forgive him." He says, holding you.

...

And Joel won't ever forgive himself either.

All he does whole going back to the QZ is think about you. How you're doing, how you're feeling.

He thinks about you all the time. In what you told him.

'I feel so much for you.' You said.

His chest hurts, and he can only think about how yours must hurt too. So he doesn't try to cut his painful thoughts.

Much like he did when Sarah died, he forces himself through self loathing.

Like penitence, like self-punishment for what he did. He knows you're suffering, and he knows there's nothing he can do about it. He knows it's his fault, and thinking about it, suffering about it is the only way he can make up for the pain he's caused.

By suffering along with you. By not sleeping enough, not eating enough, not working enough.

He doesn't deserve a happy and comfortable life.

Not when he failed someone he loves again. Not when he knows how bad you're feeling.

Time goes by, and the deal goes on.

They work together, but Joel can't come near the gates nor call or answer the radio. He stays in a safehouse near Lincoln and Tess comes to talk to your parents while you stay in your bedroom, hoping every single time you're gonna see him. Even if just a glimpse of him behind the gates.

But he's never there, and as weeks go by, you eventually lose your hope.

You're not half as bubbly as you were when Joel was around. Not near as sunny and happy as you used to be before him.

And Bill notices it. The way you don't always play the piano anymore, the way you don't always put perfume on. It's like part of you left with Joel. And Bill can't help but grow even angrier at him because of it.

...

One night after dinner, maybe about one month after he was gone, you're by your window, and Frank comes in your bedroom, leaning against the window, the side of his hips touching the side of yours as he smiles down at you.

"How are you feeling, my dove?" He asks, pulling your hair away from your face and caressing your cheeks, noticing how pale you are and how lifeless your hair seems.

"Better, I guess. There's no point in mourning if he's never coming back. And he asked me to try anyway, so I'm trying." You sigh, leaning onto your dad's shoulder.

"That's good. What's that on your hand?" He asks.

"His plan. I like thinking about it sometimes. Of what he'd have done." You say, showing him a polaroid of the view from your bedroom window, with focus on the house across the street, the one Joel said he'd renovate.

"He wanted to fence it to raise some animals?" Frank smiles, seeing the drawing you made over the photo, with the fences, the sheep, the greenhouse and a few crops.

"Yeah. He said a greenhouse would be good to have more variety. And I thought the sheep would keep him busy." You smile.

"He'd be a great addition to our town." Frank sighs, thinking of what could come of their combined skills and resilience. "He'd be a good addition to your life too." He whispers.

"He would." You smile, allowing yourself to daydream.

Waking up early with him by your side, going to your crops, taking care of your animals, having breakfast, going to your dads' house to talk to them. Go for a run with Frank, maybe convince Bill and Joel to join you. Learn more about the guitar and teach Joel how to play the piano, take care of your dads with him, go hunting, go to the lake, make a pool and let the rain fill it.

There ain't much to do in this life.

But you'd rather do little with him by your side.

Bill's in his bunker, cleaning his guns and organizing some things.

After all the time that has passed he came to terms with you. He understood your side when you showed him you understood his, but Joel's behavior was still not something he could accept.

"Frank?" Joel's voice comes out of the radio.

Bill frowns. He made it clear to Frank that he never again wanted Joel to have any communication with them. Any and every deal or supply related exchange should be made through Tess.

"What the fuck are you doing on the radio?" Bill asks, and Joel's heart loses its rhythm. "I said I never wanted to fucking hear from you again. So what? The fuck? Are you doing? On my fucking radio?" Your dad repeats, and Joel clears his throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Bill hears it, but he doesn't respond.

"Not just for being on the radio." He adds, and Bill looks at the device, as if trying to see Joel's face through it. "I know what you must've felt when you saw us but—" He keeps going, but Bill interrupts him.

"You have no fucking idea what I felt, Joel." He says, and Joel goes quiet. He owns Bill as many chances to vent as he needs. "You have no fucking idea what I felt when I saw my daughter... That I have since she was a baby... That turned diapers into my priority when I only wanted to find more ammo, that I always did everything I could to keep safe... You have no idea of what it felt like when I saw her laying on her bed with you." He says, anger and sadness coating every word he let out. "To find out she lied to me? Because of you? That I trusted you inside my fences, inside my house? That I fed you, that I made a deal with you... And you were touching my daughter behind my back?" He continues, Joel's eyes pouring tears as he puts on Bill's shoes, as he thinks of Sarah.

He knew when Bill pointed that gun at him that he wouldn't shoot. Deep down him and Bill are very similar men, — very similar fathers —and he knew that, if ever in his position, he'd put his daughter in the first place.

He always would.

So he wouldn't shoot the son a bitch that was doing God-knows-what with her behind his back. Not because he believed a man like that was worth of any of his respect or mercy.

But because he knew how that'd affect his child.

So he knew Bill wouldn't shoot him. He couldn't let you have the memory of his brain splattered all over your bedsheets. He knows exactly how Bill feels.

"I know how you feel—" He says, his voice choked by his eminent tears.

"Don't fucking say that!" Bill growls, his voice low and threatening. "Don't you ever fucking say that because you don't know! If you knew what it is like to be a father you wouldn't have done it!" He lets his voice raise a bit.

Thankfully you're far away from your house, sitting besides your crops, looking for anything that requires some extra attention. Away from this.

Bill's words cut right through Joel. "I know how it feels like, Bill. That's why I'm sorry. Because if I were you, I would just not have killed me because of Sarah. Because I know a father wouldn't do that to his daughter, to have her last memory of the man she says she loves to be his brains pooling in her pillow. I'm not thanking you for not killing me because I know you didn't put that gun down because of me."

"Sarah?" Bill asks quietly.

"I know how you feel, Bill. I know what it feels like to be afraid to lose your daughter—" Joel starts, his voice drown in his crying. "There's nothing I ever wanted more than to see my little girl safe and happy... And I'd give anything to have her here with me. But to imagine having her lie to me, having someone taking advantage of her makes my blood boil, makes my skin burn." He continues. Bill is looking around, processing what Joel's telling him. "So I am sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for making her lie to you. You have all the right to never want to hear from me again, and I won't stay on your way." He says.

Bill's eyes are burning, he's feeling his chest tighten as Joel speaks. There's too much honesty in his voice for him to be lying.

The girl in the painting he saw Frank working on... Could it be her?

"You—" he tries to speak, but his voice stays stuck on his throat.

"I'll never take you as wrong for hating me. No. But as hard as it may be for you to believe me, I need you to know I do care about her. I always did. I wasn't going to do anything to her until I talked to you and Frank. I wasn't planning on leaving, because I didn't want to hurt her. I never moved one finger she didn't want me to." He says. "Because I care about her... I want to know she's okay, she's happy, she's dressed in the clothes she likes." He chuckles, thinking about how happy your clothes make tou. "And she's safe. She's safe and she's happy. That's all I care about. And I haven't felt the way I felt with her in so long, but I'd give all that up, I'd keep living in my misery just so she didn't feel those feelings too." He sounds sincere, the pain he's been carrying ever since seeing your face, your despair, being poured on the radio. "Because now I'm even deeper in misery, because I know how she's feeling. And I know she's feeling that way because of me. So I'm sorry for what I did, but I know you can't ever forgive me for making her feel this way, because I won't ever forgive myself either." He says. "Please don't ever think twice before reaching out for anything she ever wants or needs. Anything at all. I'll always be here for anything she needs."

"How'd you lost her?" Bill asks, and Joel freezes. He didn't expect him to wanna keep talking. Or to ask about Sarah.

"Outbreak day." He starts, his eyes burning. "A guard pointed a gun at us and I... I just stood there. I just... Let him shoot us, shoot her." He says, sounding monotonic, almost apathetic as he's shut down any feelings he still had about that day. As he knows you're not there to soothe him and he can't let his feelings overwhelm him.

"How old was she?" Bill asks, his voice shaken by his emotion.

Joel takes a few seconds, when he speaks, his voice is barely understandable. "Fourteen."

"Oh my God—" Bill says, feeling a pang in his chest. "I'm sorry." He continues. "She's... I... Just to imagine losing her I... God." He can't express how painful the loss of a child must be.

The two of them go silent for a few seconds, each processing their own feelings and relentless thoughts.

"I called to say I've found the medicine Frank asked for. We need nothing, Tess and I will bring the medicine to you in a few days." Joel says, recomposing himself.

It takes Bill a second to respond.

"Alright. We'll give you something in return here." He says, and the radio goes silent.

Later that day, Bill and Frank lay on their bed, and Bill can't seem to fall asleep.

"Frank?" He calls his husband, who turns around to face him.

"Yeah, love?" He answers.

"Tell me everything you knew about them." He says, and Frank studies Bill's face before laying on his back, telling everything he saw and everything you've told him.

He tells Bill how happy and in love you were. What he heard from Joel's bedroom the day he left; how he made you promise you wouldn't hold any resentment towards your father.

He tells Bill about how he saw you two kiss before Joel left that one time and how you asked him to paint Sarah. How Joel had the plan to raise sheep and make a greenhouse to provide better food for you. How honest Joel's feelings seemed, and how sad he seemed to have to leave you.

"Bill... You know she's gonna stay alone one day." Frank says, his voice shaken by the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, all caused by the inevitable. "Our girl doesn't deserve loneliness. She deserves love. Love like the one we have." He says, holding Bill's hand. "Aren't you happier now than you'd be without me and her?" He whispers, and Bill's eyes water, pools forming on their corners.

"You two are my everything." He cries. "I don't know what would've been of me without you."

"You'd still be alive, thriving even. Because you're you." Frank laughs gently. "But that's not everything, is it? It's not fair with her. To be forced into an inevitable solitude." He says. "I understand and respect your decision. We all do, even her, even though all the pain it caused her. But think about her." He says, gently kissing Bill's lips before snuggling close to him.

Bill's quick to return the closeness, wrapping his arms around Frank protectively.

And this intimate moment makes him think of you.

Alone in your bed, with no one to talk to before you fall asleep, no one to dream with, no one to share a life with after him and Frank are gone.

The next day he sits on his bunker, besides the radio, his forehead resting on his hands. His legs shake nervously as he waits for a voice to come up and answer his call.

"This is Tess. Is everything ok?" He hears, and his heart pounds inside his chest.

"Tess?" He tries to not let his voice come out too shaky. "This is Bill. Can you get Joel, please?" He says, doing perhaps the greatest act of love he's ever done.

Please, please tell me what you thought about it, i love reading your comments and reblogs in this series, it makes my day 🩷🫶🏻

The final part is already written, and I'm editing it right now, I hope you all come back to end this story with me, ily all so much 🩷

@cruelfvkingsummer Bill finally blew a fuse 🤧

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