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ughthatimagineblog · 8 months

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weakness (joel miller x female reader)

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s takes an unexpected turn for you and Joel when some feelings start coming to the surface.

pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

warnings/tags 🏷️ Bill and Frank! Not really a warning, I am just obsessed. Set a few years before series timeline, salt and pepper daddy Joel but not all out quite yet. Implied age gap (reader in her mid to late twenties, Joel is in his earlyish fifties). Soft!Joel, but not too soft. Dash of angst, a bit of fluff, and lots of Frank because he is a sweetheart.

word count: 5.3k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolded lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moved his hands back up to your hair, which was out of its usual braid and towel dried after a very much needed wash. The sweet scent of the vanilla shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingered deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing change from what your hair normally smelled like: grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the QZ. After combing out all of the stubborn tangles that he could find, Frank then picked up a boar hairbrush and he carefully began to run it through your locks. He started from the roots of your hair and brought the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sighed softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he had you perched on before giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” You mumbled. You brought your knees up against your chest and let out another small sigh. You could picture the small, satisfied smile on Frank’s face as he continued brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” You questioned him just a minute later, as if he hadn’t already explained it to you a dozen times; he wanted to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank stated as a matter of factly. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it's something of a special occasion today. It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You couldn’t help the way the corners of your mouth turned upwards into a small smile. One might think that was kind of silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you had to admit it, you admired the way Frank managed to find genuine happiness in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looked like. He had such a beautiful soul, something very, very people in this new world possessed.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observed a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. He took two handfuls of your hair from the front, twisting them gently and bringing them around to the back of your head. Frank secured them with a clear elastic band and then ran his fingers through your locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascaded perfectly around your shoulders in long, natural waves. He walked around your chair to face you, fussing until he made sure that every stand was neatly in place. “You should wear your hair down more often. It suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” You laughed, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the QZ require anyone who has long hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You pushed your legs out away from your chest and planted your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my usual, greasy old clothes.”

“Exactly. So why not just zip it and enjoy all of this while it lasts?” He suggested with a tiny grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He took your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, and you reluctantly did as you were told. Frank led you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open them.”

Your eyes fluttered open and your mouth parted slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” You murmured under your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looked absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of rosy blush on your cheekbones and the thin coat of decades old mascara (that could not be healthy to put near your eyes, could it?) that he’d applied to your lashes; the tube had been bone dry, but Frank used a bit of water to bring it back to life.

Then there was the dress, oh god, the fucking dress he’d forced you into. His favorite part and your least favorite.

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it got too chilly later.

“You look perfect,” he gushed.

You looked different. But that wasn’t exactly what shocked you. More than anything, you were taken aback by how normal you looked.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, to wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in the QZ. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You didn’t think that you could ever look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank must have sensed how you were feeling. Still standing behind you, he placed his two hands on your shoulders and leaned his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes met your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve that much.”

Your lips parted slightly and you tried to speak, but words fell short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamped your mouth shut and gave him the tiniest little nod.

Frank smiled. “Good. Come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands dropped from your shoulders and he ushered you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gave you a wink. “I’m eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” You sputtered out, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What was he going to say when he saw you like this?

What would he think?

Probably that you looked utterly fucking ridiculous.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorted. “Yes, Joel.”

You glared at his back. This wasn’t the first time Frank had teased you about Joel, and despite the countless times that you assured him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insisted on believing otherwise. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as he led you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” You said. Normally, you weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you weren’t finding his antics amusing in the slightest; not while you were wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You paused briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and added in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. That’s it.”

Frank stopped at the bottom of the staircase and turned to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, sleep in the same bed together, spend every waking moment from sunrise to sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you tried again. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap? Please.”

“Frank,” You nearly pleaded his name. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He threw his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoed in the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a lot of Bill,” he mused. He noticed the horrified expression that crossed your face and laughed again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way.”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” You had to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what’s his,” he further explained. He took a brief pause before questioning, “You trust him, right?”

You didn’t even miss a beat, answering, “With my life.”

He ticked an index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly! You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stared at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Frank rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel.”

For a moment, it felt like all the wind had been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right? Did you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel didn’t really give a shit about anything, except for surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day. And even then, he didn’t speak of his younger brother too kindly.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmered, speaking a truth he’d been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” You confessed, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a long sigh. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bit his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, darling. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows came together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He said it so simply, and yet there went the rest of your air leaving your lungs.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarked, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” You countered, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky to him as it did to you.

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He spoke gently, but with such seriousness that made your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you spoke again, your voice was strained, thick with emotion you were trying desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the romance novels.” Before he could say another word to you about it, you placed a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he took the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course.” Frank took your hand. He opened the front door and led you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he saw you two approaching, Bill threw his hands up. “It’s about damn time!” He grouched loudly. “Jesus, Frank. I’m starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tossed his partner a sweet smile as he released your hand. “Look, I found myself something pretty!”

You blushed. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about you. “Frank, please.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrowed his eyebrows and he glanced over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widened just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown hair might have even had a comb run through it, but it was difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beamed proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel didn’t respond. His eyes remained glued on you, following as you walked around the table and took your usual spot beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” You muttered, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticked by. You silently urged yourself to get a grip as you reached for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and draped it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up smelled heavenly—Frank knew it was your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu.

Joel still hadn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hoped he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompted as he picked up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glared daggers at him from across the table and hissed, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel set down his glass of wine and turned slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he spoke, his voice was low, but clear as day as he looked at you, “She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest. Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he added, giving a subtle nod of his head. He let his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He turned back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again. He chugged what was left of it and then reached for the bottle, pouring himself another.

Bill cleared his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant. Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies.

As you tucked into your meal of rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grim caked onto your skin and in your hair. Surely he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his work partner.

About an hour later, once everyone had finished eating, you offered to help Frank clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settled for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shooed you away before you could even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he said, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hand. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggested. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like, go check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” You joked lamely, although it earned you a sincere laugh from your friend. You padded out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that was packed tightly with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months. You started searching among the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you picked it up, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you started thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing it was a play—you’d never read a play before. Still not convinced if it was one you would like to take home with you, you flipped back to the first page and started reading with a curious little, “Hmm.”

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he cleared his throat, and asked, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirled around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” You breathed out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate returned to normal. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he stated, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrossed his arms and pushed himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escaped you, almost nervously, as he slowly started walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floors. He took the book from your hands, giving a low hum as he read the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” You tossed him a teeny, lopsided smile as you teased, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacked your arm with the worn paperback. “Yes, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flipped it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He handed it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real dream,” You deadpanned. You glanced down, running your index finger down the cover. You were trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes were glazing over you from head to toe.

“It’s kinda nice,” he said quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You kept your eyes fixed on the book. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He paused, then added, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even better, though.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. More than his words, it was the genuine tone in which he said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You forced a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his eyes, you turned around and walked over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shoved the book inside. When you heard Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffened slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel remarked. He seemed to hesitate, but then continued, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay?”

“You kidding?” You scoffed in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that.”

Joel’s hands went to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turned around and were caught a little off guard by how close he was standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raised an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something?”

Joel quickly shook his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that…” He stopped and lowered his voice just in case Bill or Frank happened to be nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugged his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content…” He trailed off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence. You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know with Frank’s help, we could talk Bill into it.”

The second you realized Joel was being serious, your smile faded a little. “What? But what about you?”

“Frank’s good, but he’s not a damn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admitted, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, You thought to yourself.

“I know that much,” You replied with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That’s no fuckin’ life—”

You held up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly softened. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen. The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy, not without you.”

Joel tilted his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body could even make the connection, you found yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You looked up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel’s exhaled a breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” You declared, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were finding the balls to confess all of this to him.

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lifted your hand to his face. At first, there was hesitation on your part, but you willed yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch was gentle, Joel couldn’t help but wince. Not because he didn’t want it, but because it had been so damn long since anyone had ever touched him like that. Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. He closed his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allowed himself to relax his tense muscles and sink into your touch.

Joel let himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gave a subtle tremble when you softly started to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully teased him about now that it was beginning to gray just like his hair, felt rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” You murmured, and he forced his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” You assured him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel managed to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that.”

You carefully moved your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“Because.” His voice was hoarse. “Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” You repeated, almost laughing. “Of all the things…”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier came to mind.

You’re his weakness. He knows how dangerous having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this ...

Joel’s dark eyes flickered to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and pulled it up back into place, his rough fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmured under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…” Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he started to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish, but I’m glad you said it. Because no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lifted yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with filled your senses and you yearned to have more of him, you nearly ached to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knew to take over from here. One of his arms found its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reached up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swiped lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly granted him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remained gentle.

The way that he kissed you, the way he held your body against his, the way his calloused hand delicately cradled the side of your face…

“Joel,” You nearly whimpered his name when he broke away. His face remained just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon...”

“I know.” You nodded. You could sense that Joel, much like yourself, was at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly didn’t, but the realization that you two had just crossed a line you could never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifted his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forced himself to release you from his arms and stepped back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nodded again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You paused, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened...”

He silently shook his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss was short and quick, and when he pulled away, he said nothing. He turned on the heel of his boot and disappeared, heading out to meet Bill in the basement.

Your hand flew to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your face flushed a deep shade of red when you saw Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a satisfied, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you could detect the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turned away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. But he was yours too.

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #the last of us fanfiction

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ughthatimagineblog · 8 months

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ughthatimagineblog · 8 months

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what we do in the shadows 5.08

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ughthatimagineblog · 8 months

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🦟 buzz buzz 🦟

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut

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ughthatimagineblog · 8 months

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A real 3-hit combo of tumblr posts rn

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ughthatimagineblog · 8 months

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off to the races

6.3k / dbf!joel x f!reader

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

series summary: You and your parents rent a lakeside cabin, Joel and Sarah Miller are your neighbors. You’re all grown up, and you’ll do anything to prove to Joel you’re a woman now.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), alcohol consumption, slight daddy issues lol, cursing, use of pet names, dominant!joel, maybe a lil brat tamer!joel, oral sex (m receiving), a lil praise kink, a lil degradation kink, facial, etc. you know ;)

A/N: needed to get cool slutty daddy out of my system. He’s just a Lana coded man!! I plan on turning this into a series, I hope it get's some love! let me know what you think by sending me an ask!

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-” His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?! “But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

Summers in Danbury were what you looked forward to all year long when you were younger. You would love the long drive to the lakeside cabin, swimming in the dazzling blue water all day, and catching fireflies at night before ending it with roasting s'mores over the campfire.

Now, all Danbury reminded you of were your parents stripping your feeling of independence as soon as you stepped in their embrace and the lack of cell service.

It wasn’t all that bad, though. Who were you to complain about an all-expense paid vacation on the water? Your parents were fine, school was good, everything was just.. good. It almost made you a little bored, thinking about the impending summer.

The warm sun’s kiss on your skin was a welcomed greeting after spending the past 9 months away at school out of state, your eyes twinkling below your sunglasses as you stepped out of the car.

“Look, there she is!” Your dad cooed as he was eager to point out the sign that sat beside the entrance of the cabin that read ‘Life is Better at the Cabin’. Cheesy. It wasn’t your choice of decor since it was just a rental property, but still. You also despised the ‘The Secret Ingredient is Always Love’ sign in the kitchen.

You plopped your bags down at the end of your bed, the one just down the hall from your parents, quick to plug in your phone charger though it made little difference with your lack of a strong signal.

You turned your head to the window, seeing an old, beaten pickup truck turn onto gravel, a small smile peaking on your lips.

“Hey, look who it is!” Your dad cheered eagerly from the living room, appearing to also be gazing out the window at the sight coming down the road and pulling into the house next to yours.

The truck in question belonged to Joel Miller and his daughter, Sarah. Sarah had been your close friend each and every summer since you were little. You two were attached at the hip once your family started vacationing here, despite her being a fair five years younger. You two got along nonetheless.

You stepped outside to greet them, as your mother and father were already out doing, your face lighting up as Sarah made a b-line to your embrace. “Oh my god! Look at you!” She praised, her eyes lighting up at your appearance.

You two didn’t get the chance to spend the past few summers together due to business with school or internships on your part, so her surprise in seeing you a few years grown up was warranted.

“Look at me? Look at you!” You said through punched lungs as she hugged you so tight you were losing your breath.

If you thought Sarah’s tight hug was bad, you weren’t prepared to see what was waiting on the other side of the pickup truck.

Your lips parted at the sight of Joel Miller. He was sort of… handsome. Was that wrong to think that? I mean, he was so much older than you, someone’s dad, Sarah’s dad. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long but his voice pitched into the conversation and you had been caught.

“Hey, Skids.” Ugh. That dreaded nickname you had yet to wear off. “Haven’t seen you these past few summers.” Joel’s southern drawl was a shock to your system after being up in the Midwest for school.

He was tall and rugged, so unkempt. His hair was tousled everywhere and his beard was growing with salt and pepper stippling through the landscape of his jawline. He looked hot, the faint glisten and stain of sweat marking the collar of his shirt and at the sides of his biceps.

You blinked a few times before a graceful smile fluttered on your lips.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You gently cooed. What? If he could call you by that horrid nickname he had given you when you were barely ten, you could call him by his surname. Your eyes caught his own shift, his jaw twitching at his name being called like that. It was just his name after all, right?

“Joel.” He corrected with a raised eyebrow, your eyes finally dragging themselves away from his handsome character as they turned to your parents, who were obsessing over Sarah. She was about to go into her senior year of high school, so of course, they had all of the basic questions to ask her. Are you taking any advanced classes? Are you still on the swim team? Do you know where you want to go to college?

You tried to look interested, but you could still feel Joel’s gravitating stare in your direction.

You were just imagining things, right? He was looking one foot over, to Sarah and your family. Except he wasn’t. You know because you snuck a casual glance over to him, and he was still on you. His gaze alone made a shiver travel up your spine.

While Sarah and your parents were nestled in their own world of conversation, you take a few subtle steps away and join him by his truck. It still felt warm, the engine relaxing after a good drive in the Texas heat.

“You need a new truck. She looks like she’s on her deathbed.” You point out, the one corner of his mouth tugging up as he kept his eye on Sarah and your folks with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

“She’s just fine.” He retorts nonchalantly. You hated that about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking, unpredictable but not exactly chaotic.

“She?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “I always knew you had a special woman in your life. Didn’t know she was so old, though.” You egged him on, your favorite pastime in the summers; Grinding the gears of an old man who had a bigger attitude than you most days.

“You still have quite the mouth on you. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.” Joel said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the front of the truck with his hip, his head nodding off to the side in a silent way of telling you to follow him. You watched as he pulled down the tailgate, rust screeching until it stopped with a generous thump.

“Supposed to be Sarah helping me with this, but since she’s busy being Miss Danbury, you can help me.” He said as he pointed to some firewood and other bigger pieces of wood in varying sizes.

“What do you plan on doing with all this wood anyway? I think the Amazon is looking for it.” You huffed but climbed up into the back of the truck bed without him asking you to. His protective hand instinctively guided your hip for stability, and you felt a rush of air pump through your lungs. “Thanks.” You murmur before you start reaching for stacks you could handle.

“Sarah wanted to throw y'all a bonfire with it being your first day back for the summer or what have you.” Before you could stop yourself, you were already cooing at him as you jumped down from the tailgate, watching as Joel gave a tight face of annoyance. Don’t do that, you’re gonna get yourself hurt.

It took Joel all of two seconds to grab two of the larger cut pieces, throwing each of them onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help but stare at his biceps that cradled the wood, the tan skin and muscles popping out of the dark green t-shirt he wore. Focus, focus, focus, focus, focusfocusfocus.

“And the bigger pieces? What are those for?” You asked out of sheer curiosity now once he threw them down in the back of his lawn, the sight of your parents and Sarah long gone.

He shrugged and shook his head, his hands on his hips as a layer of sweat started to build up around his hairline. “Just carvin’ projects. The rest can be used for scrap lumber around the lake properties.” His head finally turned to look at you, his eyes raking you up and down for a moment before nodding to your lake house rental. “Doin’ property maintenance over the summer on the houses ‘round here.”

“So if we need maintenance, we call you now?” You asked with a dubious face, to which he nodded.

This man never stopped. It made sense, you supposed. You reflected on the summers in the past, knowing Joel to manage his own contracting business and picking up odd jobs around town. You remember one summer, he redid the flooring of an old bakery in town and then built custom shelves for the loaves of bread and bagels. Another summer, he repaved people’s driveways with blacktop. He was a laborer, a blue-collar man through and through.

“That’s right, Skids.” The nickname made you scowl at him again, but you wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller laid under your kitchen sink or repairing the window in your bedroom so it could finally let in some fresh air. Frankly, you just wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller.

After Joel reclaimed his daughter from your parents with a snarky yet subtle, Thanks for all your help, kiddo to Sarah, he said goodbye to you and your family as everyone parted ways back to their own homes.

You were tired from the drive, but you didn’t lack attendance to the bonfire Sarah was putting together specifically for you in a welcome back to Danbury! sort of celebration. She invited the other nearby neighbors, so by the time you finally joined, it was packed with people sitting around the fire. People who lived on the lake loved a good party, anything with beer to keep them occupied.

It was a lot of talking and bottles clinking, marshmallows on sticks, and a crackling fire blazing at the center of everyone. You weren’t one for beer but Sarah insisted on feeding you bottle after bottle.

She liked sharing secrets with you, away from her dad. She considered you someone she could tell anything to. And you felt the same way. So not more than half an hour later, you two were giggling and sitting on the tailgate of Joel’s old pickup truck when you saw him start to saunter over. You saw him coming first, snatching Sarah’s bottle out of her hand and taking a sharp inhale as you hid away your own. Sarah’s secret, right?

“Dad,” she playfully whined when he came over to bust their little party.

He was silent for a moment before he looked at the dwindling flames. “Fire’s gettin’ low.” He pointed out, looking between the two of you.

His face was lit up in a mix of gold hue from the fire and silver from the moon. His face had this intensity, a bucked-out jawline, cheekbone, and nose. It was like he was carved from stone.

Sarah was silent, not wanting to leave behind her friends at the bonfire to shuffle over more wood. You softly nodded as you took a swig of her beer bottle in your hand before setting it down once you hopped off the truck bed.

“I can help.” You offered. Joel looked down at you hesitantly, sneaking a glance to where your parents sat around the growing circle of people.

“Yeah.. yeah, ‘lright.” Joel said as the two of you walked off to the dividing line on his property, the wood you had dropped carelessly earlier in the day now in a neat stack. You certainly weren’t drunk, but slamming Sarah’s beer along with the other ones she ushered you before was now messing with your head, the edges of your vision a little fuzzy, especially in the dark since the glow of the bonfire was at such a distance.

Before you knew it, you were stacking the wood into your arms, too much maybe. Joel called out your name in a warning tone.

“No, I got it! See?” You tried to reason with a cocky smile as he shook his head.

“You don’t like to listen.” He gruffly said as he started picking up the smaller pieces as they fell out of your arms.

You couldn’t help the playful scoff that left your lips, still insistent on stacking more in your arms, going as far as tucking some in your elbows but all they did was drop at your feet once you went to reach for more.

“Stop bein’ so damn difficult.” He piped up again as he snagged your wrist, halting your movements.

“Yeah? I thought you liked difficult women.” Your words were fast like a whip, your eyes challenging his own as the two of you shared unnecessarily long eye contact.

“Drop-- the wood. Stop bein’ a-”

“A what?” You challenged. The distance between you two suddenly felt like it was becoming air-tight, his eyes narrowing on yours as his features hardened. He didn’t look mad, lord knows you’d never want to actually make Joel Miller mad. He just looked-- provoked.

“A brat.” He finally bit, your teeth clenching at the name. The shock of it all made your arms finally burst open like a dam breaching with water, all of them falling to your feet as you let out an involuntary squeal. God, you did not want him to hear that noise leave you like that.

You finally tugged away your wrist from his hand, your eyes leaving his daggered gaze to examine your palm that had a decent size splinter plunged into the center of it.

“Shit,” You swore, feeling whatever heat you had left in your body pooling to your stringing finger.

You heard Joel let out a debated sigh before he took you by your wrist, much more gentle this time, and tried to bring it up closer to his eyes to examine it.

“Can’t see for shit out here.” He grumbled. You couldn’t see it either but you could feel right where it spread searing pain through the rest of your hand.

“I got some tweezers in my workshop, I’ll get it out.” Joel offered as he started walking a few paces but you let out an involuntary whimper at the sound of him taking it out.

“You don’t want that to get infected, do you?” He asked with a true voice of reason, to which you let out a sigh of agreement and followed him to his workshop.

You had only been inside Joel’s workshop a handful of times. You remember once your dad dragged you over so he could talk to Joel about his truck, and you had to wait there and wait there until they finished gabbing. Another time was when you explored it on your own, your eyes fascinated by the little world he surrounded himself in. It wasn’t all wood like you’d expect it to be. He had old guns mounted on the wall, ladders hung up in the rafters, and dusty old fishing plaques that made you disgusted at the sight. It housed his tools, the same ones he had been using for years. He knew where they were by heart, not even looking when he reached for something. Everything had its place, down to the tweezers he immediately found in an old little toolbox.

“Here,” he said as he pointed to an old metal stool as tall as your waist. You sat down on the cold metal, a little hiss of discomfort leaving you as he sighed. “Always somethin’.” Joel shook his head and offered you a spare dusty blanket, shaking your head.

“Just-- fix my hand. Please.” You said as you displayed your palm to him, now seeing it in the light for the first time. Okay.. it didn’t actually look as bad as it felt. Joel actually smiled as he looked at the tiny sliver shoved into the skin.

“..Might have to amputate it.” He said with a half-serious tone, as joking as Joel could sound. But there was a little glint in his eye, one of satisfaction from his own joke.

“Joel Miller has a sense of humor? I’m surprised. And pleasantly delighted.” You teased as he huffed and shook his head, the smile that graced his lips already came and gone. Sort of. He just looked down at your hand so you couldn’t directly see it anymore.

It took you until now to see that he changed out of his dark green shirt from this afternoon and into an old 80’s rock band shirt with a worn dark navy flannel over it. He must have showered after laboring in the Texas heat. The thought made your stomach churn in excitement.

You shivered at how cold you felt all of a sudden, no longer by the warm fire and on this damn metal stool. You shifted uncomfortably on it, cursing yourself for wearing jean shorts.

Joel let out an exasperated sigh as he stood up straighter and shoved off his flannel, your eyes softening at the sight.

“You want me to take tweezers to your hand but you keep... shiftin’ around. Stand up.” He directed, and this time you didn’t debate with him. You hopped off the metal stool and he laid down the flannel. It was a nice gesture and you were grateful. You hoped the goosebumps were from the temperature, not how close he was.

Joel pulled up another metal stool so he could steady himself, reeling himself in as close as he could and holding your palm open in his as his eyes squinted a little bit.

You felt frozen in place, your lips parting as you slowly looked down to one of his knees that parted between your own legs. Fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the little buzz of beer still in your system but something drove you to have enough courage to gently lay your hand just above his kneecap.

His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to read what was behind your thought process right now. He looked so confident, you feared you looked all shifty.

You could feel the worn denim of his jeans under your palm but underneath, he was warm. He was as hot as a furnace as your body craved it.

“The sliver.” You pointed back out, your voice smaller since you two were in such close proximity. You watched his chest heave as he took a deep breath, grumbling something under his breath before he focused back to his initial task.

You pursed your lips as you both watched and felt the tweezers line up to the red and irritated skin, his movements precise and patient until you watched him clench the tool closed.

You let out an involuntary breath of both relief and anticipation, just wanting it out already.

“Hold on, just gotta make sure I..” Joel’s voice trailed off as he slowly pulled the tiny sliver from your palm, an uncomfortable whine leaving the back of your throat.

His thigh twitched under your palm at the sound, not even realizing your hand had sunk higher up his jean-clad thigh.

“Got it.” He finally said, swiping the tip of the tweezer on the table to display the nasty little piece of wood that had caused you all this grief. You let out a breath through your nostrils and nodded.

“Thank God, no amputation.” You joked, to which he awarded you a small smile.

“I’ll call the surgeon and tell ‘em to turn around. We’re good here.” Joel said as he gently released your wrist. You watched his features carefully, seeing his lips part as he glanced down to his leg that your hand still held for balance.

“What’er you doin’?” He finally asked, his voice dropping an octave at the question. Shit.

Don’t read this wrong, or this will be the most awkward interaction you and Joel have had to date. This is worse than when he saw you fall out of the inner tube while boating, worse than when some kid tripped you at the town barbeque, worse than when you fell off Sarah’s scooter so hard that he gave you the nickname Skids.

“Woah, Skids! Better slow down!” God, that was so many years ago. His chuckle still echoed in your ears.

Now you were older, you were a woman. You had long legs and glowing skin, and a smile that knocked guy’s out of the fuckin’ park! But he was older too, older than you, younger than your dad but god, not by much. You were so close to him, you could inhale the distant smell of the bonfire, the one he probably made instead of Sarah. He also smelled like an old spice deodorant and fucking cigarettes.

He was stingy, and greasy, and hot, and Joel.

Your years of anticipation thinking about him like this was over.

You bit down on your lower lip, your mind was foggy with the rushing in your heart, feeling your ears pound and your palm still seared. He was a head taller than you while you sat together, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his pulse.

Your lips lingered around his neck for a moment, the sensitive skin of your mouth feeling beard stubble and tasting distant cologne. Your breath fanned over the skin, clammy but sweet with his sweat.

He didn’t stop you, his eyes merely watching you carefully.

“What’er you doin’?” He asked again, but this time, his words sounded more-- goading. Do it, I know you won’t. You’re chicken shit. If you know what you want, do it.

Your heart raced as you nearly leaped off the stool, closing the distance between you two as you stood between his legs. Your hand moved higher on his thigh, so close that you were nearly touching the leather of his belt. Your mouth returned to the sweet spot of his pulse while your injured hand reached up to the opposite side of his neck to gently hold him there.

“Joel,” you whispered his name breathlessly, asking him for more, feeling his head drop down beside yours. You feared you embarrassed yourself, he wasn’t reciprocating, he wasn’t--

The thoughts brewing in your head bubbled down to a boil as his firm arm wrapped itself low around your waist, keeping you to his front as he pulled down to look at you with a stern look on his face.. You were so fucked.

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-”

His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?!

“But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

His words surprised you. He didn’t think he could walk away from you right now? Holy shit.

Your heart was pumping so hard under his watchful gaze, seeing his eyes look from yours to your parted lips. But he didn’t kiss you, you don’t think you would let him. It felt too intimate. You just didn’t want another boring summer in Danbury and you were determined to have a fling.

Who knew it would be with Joel Miller. But you wanted him.

Your brave hands took him by the chest of his shirt, your mouth moving to his jawline as you balanced the tightrope of kissing and nibbling on the skin before your hands moved south to find his belt buckle.

His legs naturally parted for you, catching a brief smirk on his lips as you took control of the situation.

“Dirty girl goin’ right for my fuckin’ cock.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, a desperate nod leaving you while your cheek involuntarily rubbed against the stubble of his beard. You didn’t know he talked like that.

You initiated more space for yourself, nudging the inside of his thighs with your own legs as you had his back up against his drafting table with you no longer on his side but standing in front of him.

Your quick fingers desperately undid his belt, feeling the old leather under your fingers. You didn’t have the balls to look at him and frankly, you were afraid you would lose your nerve if you did.

His hands were encouraging for your nervous system, firm palms planted into your hips and even going as far as to squeeze the flesh that sat under your jean shorts. His body warmed you up, his eyes admiring you as you plucked open the button on his jeans.

You pushed your tongue against your cheek in concentration, all of a sudden desperate at the thought of having him in your mouth. You dragged down the zipper, the relaxed denim exposing the black briefs he wore underneath that hugged his tan hips.

You slowly sunk to your knees before him, as if you were worshiping a God. Maybe you were, it was Joel Miller, after all.

“This what you were learnin’ off at school?” Joel belittled, your head doing a few quick nods as a flush stained your cheeks. God. Something about Joel calling you a slut had you in a tailspin. You couldn’t wait anymore.

Your fingers delicately felt over the impressive growth that his briefs held down, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your pointer finger make the outline of his girth.

He let out an audible grunt at the action, his jaw jutted out, and his eyes filled with lust. “Lemme see that pretty mouth.” He practically purred, your chest rising and falling in anticipation as you slowly opened your mouth for him. You felt the intrusion of his thumb, a guttural moan leaving your throat as your big eyes stayed on his. He pinched at the inside of your cheek for a moment, your eyes twinging closed and opening back up with twinkling tears on the brim of flowing.

“Good girl, keep that mouth open for me.” He encouraged as he pushed two fingers past your lips, testing you. And you were more than willing to accept his little challenge. His fingers pushed on the back of your tongue, feeling your lips graze all the way to his knuckle as you worked on breathing through the feeling of his fingers shoved down your throat.

You were determined for him not to get the best of you, to prove how you had some experience under your belt. Your tongue willingly swirled around his digits, humming softly as you suckled. Now it was his turn to look like he was ready to fold. You felt him swell in your hand, the hand still stroking over his erection in his briefs.

He ripped back his fingers, leaving them with a pop to your lips. Holy shit. You took a few deep breaths and swallowed, blinking back the tears that his fingers provoked from going so far down.

“Damn, baby, look so pretty down on your knees for me. Don’t make me wait ‘ny longer.” Joel’s breaths were heavy, his southern drawl exaggerated in his lust-filled state.

A proud smirk laced on your lips, his eyes on you as he watched you pry down the material of his briefs, watching as he lightly lifted his hips off the stool and using the drafting table behind him as leverage to let his jeans and boxers rest comfortably around the top of his thighs. What you had been craving slapped eagerly into the palm of your uninjured hand, an unexpected little moan leaving you.

You studied his cock with anticipation, the glowing pinkish-red tip glistening with pre-cum from all the anticipation. He was generous in size, he would be the biggest you had ever taken. He was just… grown. You let out a satisfied little mmm, smirking up at him as your fist wrapped delicately around the base as you pumped over just the bottom half of him.

Your hand came up to push some hair behind your ear but Joel was quick to handle that for you, stroking the stray pieces back behind your ear and then planting his palm right on the top side of your head. He tried to guide you closer but you just continued to smirk at him, a desperate grunt leaving the back of his throat.

“Don’t play with me, kitten.” The nickname had you fawning, much better than the other nickname he had given you in the past. Maybe this new one would replace the old, the girl he dismissed before now a woman whose attention he craved.

You guided his tip to gently tap at your flattened tongue, using his base to guide him until you generously wrapped your mouth around his leaking head. He let out a satisfied hiss which made you smirk, knowing you were the one making him dance on the line between pain and pleasure.

You let out an involuntary mewl as the fist he had made in the back of your hair forced you further down his rigid member, feeling wet tears threatening to spill over your waterline as his tip nudged against the back of your throat. He said not to play with him and you disobeyed.

Your palms flattened to the front of his thighs as you pushed yourself off of him, gasping for air as you swallowed the mixture of your spit and his leakage that clogged your throat.

“So fuckin’ pretty chokin’ on me like that, such a pretty face.” He sneered, referring to your teary eyes. But the compliment made you blush and the choking and sobbing was all of a sudden worth it for the praise.

After that, you craved to take all of him just like he wanted. Your head worked in subtle bobs, taking inch by inch of him at a time. Sometimes his hand in your hair guided you, allowing you to take him with confidence as he let out disgusting groans and low moans.

Your gluck, gluck, glucks filled the shed, hot pants leaving your mouth around him but not willing to let your head up. Trails of your saliva attached themselves from his balls to your lips, the sight being a trophy for your hard earned deep throating. He was already so close, you couldn’t bear not to taste the prize you had worked so hard for.

All of a sudden, Joel stood up from his seat at the drafting table and you couldn’t help but show a look of disappointment. You thought he was done, going to leave you like a mess on the floor with bruises on your knees from the cold concrete and your slobbery mouth feeling his loss.

Your wet eyelashes fluttered as he returned to fist the hair at the top of your head and angled your face upward, watching as his other hand yanked on his member. The sight made your jaw drop.

“Where do you want me to finish?” His words were pained, stretched thin as he tried to hold out for an answer from you. But you wanted him to finish, you wanted to watch his face contort from the wake of his orgasm that you helped create.

“Mmm,” you hummed out as you purposefully prolonged his finish, watching as his chest puffed and his skin grew rosy from the heat flooding his body. Your cockiness was punished by a tighter grip in your hair, yanking your head closer to his shaft to force a real answer out of you. Your scalp stung but only a smile was on your face.

“You wanna cum on my face, Mr. Miller?” You asked in the most innocent tone you could muster, your mouth parting at the sight of him. He looked heavenly. The glow from his shed lights made him appear as if he had an angelic glow. But you knew he was hellish, nothing close to an angel.

Joel let out a scoffy little grunt at your question, a wicked smile gracing his lips as his hooded eyes slowly fell completely closed as the shock of his orgasm coursed through his body.

You eagerly watched and you hated how hungry you knew you looked right now. You licked your lips, eager for his taste, eager to make the Joel Miller cum. You were desperate.

His cock began twitching in his hand, watching as he methodically yanked out his own orgasm. His eyes lazily glanced between his shaft and to your large eyes, slowly smirking at the sight of you holding out for him.

“Let me see that tongue, darlin’.” His words were breathy, just on the edge of no return. You obeyed, dropping your jaw and flashing him your tongue as you fluttered your eyelashes. At the sight alone, he finished himself off with eager grunts and short moans, you swore one of them was your name.

His hot cum landed on your face, your eyes closing in satisfaction with a cocky smile. Most landed on your tongue, a few piping hot white strands splattered like paint on your cheeks and nose. All the air in your lungs left you as he tapped his pulsing tip eagerly against your tongue, watching with his jaw slack as he let the rest pool onto your tongue and down your throat.

You swallowed knowing he was watching, his hand in your hair relaxing. He tasted better than you expected, a new craving.

Instead of fisting your strands, he started stroking them away from your messy face, praising you as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Both no longer in the hot fantasy you swore you imagined once, you tried to collect yourselves. You shakily stood up from the ground, your knees cold from the concrete. You wipe off any dust or dirt they may have collected, sneaking glances at Joel as he fastened his belt around his waist once more and popping the button of his jeans back into place.

You glanced around for a tissue, your back to him as you cleaned up your face. Oh my god, you were wiping Joel Miller’s cum off your fucking face. As the two of you pieced yourselves back together, he reached for his discarded flannel that he had given you still resting on the metal chair you previously abandoned before settling between his legs.

“Said you were cold. Take it.” He said as he fisted some of the material and looked at you expectantly. You sighed before gently taking the material and wrapping yourself in its warmth.

As he placed a bandaid on your palm to cover your futile wound, you admired the flannel in all of its unknown beauty.

It was one of his older ones, you sort of felt bad because you could only assume it was one of his favorites. It adorned a few minor holes and rips, some of which were badly stitched back together in an attempt to salvage it for another few years. Despite its appearance, you melted into it because it smelled like him. It smelled smoky like his cigarettes or maybe that was just the residual smoke from the bonfire. As you walked outside, you could smell it clearer.

Sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon, you wondered what cologne he used.

Your head was lost in thought as you began to wander back towards the bonfire, a sharp clearing of his throat bringing you back to your senses. You whipped around, seeing as he pointed to the stray wood you had dropped from earlier.

“Oh-” you said bashfully as you returned to the pile with him, both of you knelt down picking up stray pieces. Once you started piling the wood in your arms again, he let out a short chuckle from deep inside him as he held your wrist from stacking more.

“That’s enough for now, just go.” You liked seeing his face lit up like that, knowing you were the cause of it being even better.

“Okay, Mr. Miller.” You cooed quietly, his face hardening at the name of adoration you had given him.

“Okay, Skids. I’ll be seein’ you.” He said with a tight nod of his head, his eyes directing you back to the fire. You set down the firewood by the rocks surrounding it as a barrier, clearing your throat as you returned to the tailgate. You could still taste his cum on your tongue.

No one seemed to notice your trip taking unexpectedly longer than necessary. Your parents were both swaying their heads and laughing, empty bottles by the legs of their folding lawn chairs to explain their obvious lack of awareness.

Sarah had joined up with other friends in your absence, but you didn’t mind.

You finally had a moment to reflect on what had just taken place in Joel’s shed. You let your vacation house neighbor cum in your mouth. Your older, stoic, stubborn ass of a neighbor.

As if on cue, Joel returned to the side of his truck with his body leaning against the tailgate. His jean-clad hip lightly grazed your thigh, glancing over to see him offering you a beer.

“Since you’re all grown up now.” He said with a little spark behind his eyes. You nodded and took the opened beer with a growing smile.

“Cheers.” He offered as he held out his bottle to clink with yours.

“Cheers to another summer in Danbury.” You tell him.

He cocked his eyebrow and glanced over to you one more time before he focused his eyes on the growing fire.

“This one ain’t quite like the rest.” It almost sounded like a promise from him. You hoped it was. Because you were wearing his flannel and you were on his knees for him tonight, you wondered what experience of Joel could offer you this summer.

---

read part 2 - dark paradise!

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ughthatimagineblog · 8 months

Text

yawn and reach

this was such a fun request it literally occupied my brain for the last 72 hours. tytyty anon!!!! summary: 'video game joel in jackson would be so awkward w reader. imagine they go see a movie for the first time in years and he does that thing w reader where he itches his nose to smoothly put it over reader’s shoulder' - requested by anon rating: 18+ warnings: lightly implied smut but no real smut at the end, cursing, age difference (reader is about 30-32 and joel is 54-56), tried to be as neutral as possible but i did write this with a feminine reader in mind. word count: 6.07k

Being in Jackson meant having clean water, a warm bed, guaranteed food, but best of all; electricity. The dam in town, monitored and worke on by the gracious townsfolk who took you in, keeps the water your bathe in warm and lights on all around the city at night. You’d forgotten the luxury of seeing so much in the dark.

Having been a young age when the outbreak began, the memories of what life before infected were blurred. Muddy water. Clear only in brief moments of light, smells, feelings and fleeting just as fast. Your mother, who also survived- or rather helped you survive- helped fill in the gaps on occasion and you were grateful for the life you clung to, even if it meant wandering in the dark for months at a time, unsure of where your next meal would come from. From youth to now, you and your mom watched out for each other. Now, you were part of a community that would take care of both of you. You both return the favor.

Being in a QZ meant enforced curfews and the military breathing down your back. Not allowed out, barely anyone allowed in. Escaping was easy enough. Surviving your way all the way to Jackson was not. Now, you and your mother roam freely at night and almost any other time if you aren’t on patrol. Music from bars pour out into the string lit streets. During the day, children play and learn. Hundreds of people found refuge here, and you now joined their numbers. You’d even met a few people you’ve become close enough with to say you’re friends.

Sometimes you get put on patrol with Dina, Jesse or Ellie, and while they’re both several years your junior, they entertain you, they respect your authority, and they also remind you of being that age, so you don’t mind. You spend some free time at the bar or help out in some of the kitchens from time to time and have grown close with a few others, all in varying ages. Joel, who you met through Ellie, being one of them.

Joel. Always brief with his words. Always to the point. Ellie would complain about him on patrol from time to time, but she would balance it out with credit to the man in the same breath.

“He’s always trying so hard. I just don’t know how to make it work now…” She trailed off on a ride home from the nearby abandoned town. It was your last stop and it was beginning to get dark. You’d given her a small nod of understanding in response. She huffed out a sigh. “I know he cares and stuff, but sometimes I need my space. I mean-” She paused to look at you, reasoning with her own conflictions. “I just would like one night out of the house. Or the garage, I guess. He’s done a lot for me… and I want him to know that I see that.”

You thought for a moment. “Maybe spend some intentional time with him. That way, when you want that night away, it will be earned and he won’t put so much pressure on it.” You suggested. She made a face off indecision but nodded anyway. “I think you’re right.” Was all she’d said on the matter the rest of the ride back.

Secretly, you admired the man. He was maybe ten years older, but you got along like you’d known each other for ages. You liked the energy the kids like Ellie brought to your days, but if they were your spark, Joel was your peace. You didn’t feel pressured to have to entertain, or keep him on the right path, or make sure he was being observant. Joel was a seasoned veteran when it came to survival and you felt an ease with him you couldn’t with anyone else. Because no one else could protect you like Joel could. No one other than the mother who helped a child survive the outbreak. And even that was highly lucky.

You were put on patrol just twice with Joel. Both times were eventful in wildly different ways. The first was in a positive way, you both found a new stash of medical supplies- an urgent care facility that’d gone unnoticed due to the decay of the lettering outside of the building signaling any kind of benefit to looting. Half of it was also caved in so you and Joel both worked to sort through the rubble that’d gone ignored for so many years. You’d both decided to check it out on a whim, and were very grateful you did.

The second time went a little differently. It was summer and the sun was beating down on the both of you like you’d never experienced before. Dehydrated and exhausted, Joel suggested stopping by the creek bed where you were to cool off in the water. Not a moment after relief began to set in, you were caught off guard when a small group of infected decided to jump both of you. In the calamity of racing back to your things, you’d slipped on a rock and fell so hard on your head you got a concussion. It rendered you unconscious and the only reason you were still breathing the next day is because of Joel.

You remembered the cold feeling of air rushing over your head wound, blood slowing, but still pouring out. Eyesight fading in and out, and when it was in, it was blurry. Unclear images of Joel fighting off the infected while keeping your body strictly behind him flash in and out of your memory. He’d patched up your head as best as possible and hoisted you onto his horse with him, tying your horse’s reins to his saddle horn to ride with the both of you back to safety.

He’d been muttering to himself the whole ride, all the way until you were passed off to the medical staff. Very faint sounds, from what you could remember, but you also knew to attribute that to the concussion. It was a fade out from being handed off, to waking up being carried further from Joel, the last image being of him staring after you as he grew smaller and smaller.

From that day forward, you two have been close. I guess saving someone’s life really does bring two people together. Your mother was fond of him as well. And not just because he saved your life- although you did figure that played a large part- but because of his manners, his honor. She’d mentioned how polite he was to you one day and, it wasn’t that you hadn’t noticed, but you hadn’t seen how deliberate it was. Holding doors open for you, fully listening when you spoke, considering your likes and dislikes. If he was behaving this way specifically for you, you couldn’t tell, but you did take note.

When you’d complimented him on such things, he- in his own Joel way- laughed in your face. Really, it was more of a scoff, but nonetheless it was just as dismissive. “‘M not polite, darlin’, I just treat people how I wanna be treated.” He answered plainly, but there was a hint of knowing in his eyes.

You began to keep an eye on these things he does that he brushes off and you found that, while yes, he does open doors for others and he is an excellent listener, he doesn’t listen to anyone else the way he listens to you. Undivided attention. When you speak, you’re all he sees. He’s holding onto every word of yours like if he doesn’t he’ll fall down. Even when you’re talking about nothing. When he holds doors for others, he looks relaxed and at ease, but guarded. With you, his shoulders soften and he’s often watching your every move as you walk by. He’s more awkward with you. Part of it is his own ambiguity in navigating getting close with others, but part of it is something else, and to assume it’s you would be highly narcissistic. Or so you tell yourself.

Meanwhile, Joel can barely contain himself. His time in Jackson had been peaceful, and had allowed him to grow comfortable. With Ellie safe and enjoying life, he’d forgotten what it meant to have room to care about anyone else. She’d been his priority for so long. Now that he met you… Just thinking about you made his stomach turn with butterflies. He felt juvenile.

It took him a week to discover your existence. Three months to patrol with you for the first time, and another three for the second time. Every patrol in between was filled with thoughts of you. Hope that you’d be paired with him again. After the second time with you, he was enamored. Your intelligence captivated him. You’d researched so much. Both about this new life and the life before the infected. You had stories on stories to tell of you and your mom, some of which were his favorite to hear. Joel knew better to pry whenever you’d get to a particularly hard memory in your stories. He’d often ask a question about a different part to get your mind off of whatever had you troubled, and even though you knew what he was doing every time, you let him. It was nice. Sweet. Two words most would not use to describe Joel. You would. And you’d said so.

That almost knocked Joel on his feet. When you told him you thought he was polite, and sweet. It made his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Feeling slightly guilty for laughing in pure shock at a fairly innocent compliment-turned-question, he’d given a finite and brief answer. You hadn’t complimented him since. Worried about rejection, you’d avoided doing so.

Finding himself thinking about why you hadn’t done so tipped Joel off to his growing, deeper, feelings for you. It bothered him, and under any other circumstance- anyone else- he wouldn’t care. Wouldn’t have crossed his mind. Much like many other interactions with others in the town. They weren’t on his mind like you were. But he also worried he was too old for you. He thought about what you’d think of Ellie who was essentially his own kid. His past was a heavy burden to carry, as well. He’d killed so many, watched so many die, and the thoughts of those deaths weighed on him heavily.

The last thing he wanted was for you to shoulder any of it. Joel knew that the first time he saw you laugh. He wouldn’t do a thing to compromise your happiness if he could help it.

Weeks later, you both were busy on your respective duties that would be ending sooner rather than later. It was the first Friday of the month, and the first Friday meant movie night. The electricity in Jackson was powerful and a few months prior, Dina and Jesse returned with a projector, VHS tape player and some VHS copies of several different movies. The town would not stop talking about it for a month afterwards. Aside from new medicine, food or healthy helping hands, this was the best news they’d received all year.

Movie nights became a regular, monthly tradition. Those not on shifts for the night would gather and watch different movies. There would be a vote beforehand on what would be played and the announcement would go out a week in advance so people could plan to be there. If you couldn’t make it due to a shift, you were sure to be scheduled in time to make it the next month and so on. It was a huge morale boost for everyone. Dina and Jesse have not stopped bragging about it being their find because of it.

Hanging up your apron, you made your way to the washrooms where you cleaned up after working every shift here. Your neighbor, a girl of similar age who got put on the same duty as you today, met you by the sink. “Are you coming tonight?” They inquired. You smiled and nodded. “Movie day. Never missing that.” You assured, scrubbing the smell of garlic off your fingers. No amount of soap would be enough.

“I bet Joel will be happy to hear that.” They wiggled your eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure he will. He’s my friend.” You assured. “Uh-huh.” They responded in an unconvincing tone. “Hey, all I know is, he’s bringing Ellie, but we all know where she wants to be. Maybe you can get some one-on-one time with him?” They suggested. You paused at this before reaching for one of the towels to dry your now-clean hands.

It was a good point. You recalled your conversation with Ellie from a few days prior. How she really was looking for an excuse to be out of Joel’s earshot for one night. You weighed your options. It wasn’t like you to blatantly ask someone to hang out, especially not Joel, and especially not under the current circumstances. It also wasn’t likely to get him to let Ellie go anywhere he wasn’t familiar. Maybe you could get Joel away from Ellie?

It was clear you liked Joel. You loved him, really. It was quite easy once you got to know him. If you asked him to see the movie with you, and you specifically, you weren’t sure how he’d react. You were confident he’d say yes, but to what degree?

Realizing you were overthinking something that was probably just all in your head anyways, you snapped back to reality to find your neighbor staring at your zoned-out expression, smirking. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” They asked, mouth agape in joyful surprise. You felt heat in your face and quickly dismissed them, pushing past the doorway.

“I’m thinking about going to see the movie later and nothing else!” You shouted over your shoulder, leaving your colleague and emerging to the main cafeteria. Turning on your heel, you were about to reach for your keys and bag that had been strewn on one of the tables when your face instantly collided with leather.

Stumbling back, and almost on your ass, you began to curse, “What the fu-” You began to say, but the feeling of two strong arms steadying you and the familiar face in front of you cut all sound in your throat short. Joel stood before you, the smell of pine filling your nose as he stood there looking as patient and understanding as ever in light of your fumble. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He sheepishly apologized as you quickly regained your bearings. His accent was deep, thick. It made your heart flutter. The adrenaline of being caught off guard had not yet worn off. “No, oh my gosh,” You breathily laughed out. “You’re fine. I was just about to leave is all.” You smiled up at him, brushing some hair that had fallen into your eyes out of your face.

“Going to the movie tonight, I hear?” He asked, eyes darting to the hallway you just came from. If your neighbor was still here, they did not make it apparent. You silently thanked whatever was out there that they left. You didn’t need them making fun of your attraction to him to his face but behind your back. Your eyes darted from Joel nervously, remembering the conversation between your neighbor. Surely if they noticed your attraction, he would too.

“Uh, yeah, weirdly enough, I was on my way to you with a similar question, but you’re back from patrol early.” You grabbed your things off the table you went for earlier and turned back to see Joel’s look of amusement and curiosity. His eyebrows raised, a slight smirk on his lips that silently mouthed ‘Oh?’. Those lips. You forced yourself to look at his forehead.

Your heart was beating in your chest so hard you worried he could hear it in the pause. “Would you like to go with me?” You blurted out. It felt silly coming out. Like you were in high school, asking someone to the prom. But under different context. A non-romantic context. Because that’s what Joel would want, right? He doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with some romantic drama, you reasoned.

Joel’s face became unreadable. His mouth slightly opened as if he were going to say something, but closed again as he decided on something else. “Together?” He clarified. You ignored the way your heart sank. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I have some wine at my place, I thought maybe we could have a glass before we go. But if you have other plans…”

“I don’t.”

His response was quick. Joel saw the way your face fell at his initial response, and he quickly realized why. You thought he was uninterested in going with you personally. Something that couldn’t be further from the truth. Joel wanted nothing more than to go with you. Jesus, he had the opportunity to take a girl on a movie date. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. 20 Years was probably something like it. More.

His reaction was purely shock. Not distaste. He was shocked you wanted to go together. That you wanted to go with him. Be seen in association with him on purpose and not in a group setting. It was more intimate than he’d been with anyone recently.

“I’d love to go with you.” He clarified, realizing he’d only been staring at you since his response to having other plans. “Ellie can have the house to herself for a bit.” You reasoned with a smile meant to hide your giddy emotions and while Joel gave a short reaction at the idea of his kid-now adult- being home alone, he let it go just as easily, too distracted with thoughts of his movie date with you.

Deciding both of you needed a shower before the movie, you split up and went to your respective houses to shower and get ready. It was merely an hour and a half before the knock came at your door.

Swinging it open to reveal Joel, groomed and standing off to the side of your doorway. In one of his hands was a bouquet. Your eyes shot open and you pretended not to notice he got groomed and brought flowers to go somewhere with you. “Where did you find these?” You excitedly reached through the doorway to take them from him, immediately pressing your nose to the petals. It was a well done bouquet of wildflowers. You’d seen them growing several times on some of the patrol routes and found them beautiful everytime. Joel just happened to notice.

“I pulled a few strings.” He laughed, watching your face as you examined them carefully. He could stare at you for hours. You didn’t have to know the exact townsperson Joel bribed to get him those flowers ASAP and you certainly didn’t have to know the extra rations it took for him to keep quiet about it. Joel making an emergency request for flowers? Unheard of. And it will stay that way too.

“I don’t know what to say.” You said, breathless from inhaling the scents in front of you. “Maybe a ‘Thank you’, ‘Please come in’, ‘I have wine’.” Joel teased. You rolled your eyes and cleared the path for him to enter.

He was quick to follow you to your kitchen where you grabbed two glasses and filled them just under halfway. You both silently toast to each other and take a sip. The wine is sweet, but has a slightly bitter taste that lingers. And then, there was that silence. It slipped over both of you like a comforting fog. Both of you comforted each other just by being near one another. You were in sync in these moments and it felt like having a dance partner. Someone to anticipate your moves and flow with them. Being around Joel was as easy as breathing. He didn’t complicate things. In the silence his eyes were like weights on you and with every sip of your wine you felt his gaze follow your lips.

“Why did you ask me to come with you?” Joel asked, cutting through your beloved easy silence like an arrow slicing the air. You froze, not quite sure yourself. That wasn’t true, though. You were sure why you wanted him to come, but terrified of what that would mean. You scrambled for any other logical reason. A favor for Ellie? Personal interest?

“And it’s not to get me away from Ellie for a little while. She knows how to do that on her own…” He commented and you felt the heaviness at the end of his sentence. Crap. He knew you. That wasn’t his point right now. “You can bullshit everyone else, but not me, darlin’.” His southern drawl was accentuated in that nickname and it was enough to cover the nervousness in his voice. The nickname that flooded your mind constantly. The nickname that made you melt.

Finding any alternative to telling Joel your true feelings, you lied. “I didn’t want to be alone. Going alone to the movies alone is kinda lame anyways and my mom wasn’t feeling up to it.”

Joel made an ‘ah’ expression and looked away in thought. He wasn’t buying it, but it was something you clearly didn’t want to be addressed, so he dropped it for you. That doesn’t mean the real reason wasn’t swimming around his mind. Occasionally, he saw the way you looked at him. He knew you respected him and thought fondly of him. Just how fondly, he was unsure. While he hoped there was more, he couldn’t help but worry what you’d think of him. What you’d think of what he’d done to get there. What he’d done, he thought, in a way, to get to you.

“We’d better get going soon if we want to make it across town in time for it to start.” Joel commented with a clearing of his throat, taking a final swig of the wine, now long gone in both your glasses. Nodding, you quickly finished your glass and rushed to put the flowers in a spot you wouldn't forget about, meeting Joel by the door when you were done.

Twisting the key in the lock of your front door, you went to step down but felt a hand gently touch your back. Turning to Joel you saw his arm stretched out, but bent slightly. You looked at him in confusion.

“Oh c’mon…” He said, gesturing to his arm. “You know what to do.” He urged. Your blank expression answered his assumption with a resounding negative. Feeling a little ridiculous, not because of your confusion but because his own effort in sending signals were going unnoticed. He came up to you, grabbed your hand and looped it through his already-positioned arm. You smiled and said “Oh!” out loud, finally realizing what he’d been trying to do.

“Well aren’t you a gentleman.” You commented as you walked arm in arm to the gathering area the town held movie nights at, trying to ignore the way you were touching him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t before, but you’d repressed the way it made you feel before. It was beginning to be hard to hide it. Joel smiled slightly and shook his head. “Im telling you, I-”

“I know, I know, you just treat people how they want to be treated.” You finished for him. He stopped mid sentence and laughed to himself. “So you do listen.” His voice was gravelly but soft. Music to your ears. “Only when it’s you talking.”

Your response came out flirtier than you intended, the feeling overcoming both of you instantly. Despite ducking your head, avoiding his gaze, Joel felt his heart soar. “I’m a lucky man then.” It was your heart’s turn to flutter. Joel, once again plans to save the moment of being inquired upon further, noting your embarrassment. “How’s that?” You reply, desperate for every word. “I was able to get the most stubborn and independent person to actually listen. I don’t think any man has done so in history before.” Joel joked, a dramatic air to his tone, soaking every word.

You laughed at his jab and shoved his arm in response. “Yeah if you’re lucky for anything it’s because I tolerate your ass giving me a hard time.” He chuckled in response. “Now that is true.” His voice got quiet as you both approached the viewing area together. Finding a small section of grass that wasn't occupied, you and Joel grabbed one of the many chairs set out for people to use and you both sat together.

They were playing Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. A classic. Made before even Joel was born, but highly enjoyed in his childhood. He was looking forward to this movie when he heard it was the choice for the month. He was more excited about watching it with you, now. Your eyes fixated on the screen and as the movie began, everyone’s hushed voices and children's laughter all simmered to a pure silent crowd.

The movie played on like normal, maybe a glitch in the picture here and there but nothing too bad to break the feeling that comes with watching a movie. The ‘illusion’, some people call it. You’re laughing at a quip from Han to Leia when Joel subtly looks over to you. You’re too busy watching the movie to notice, but he can’t help but stare. Your eyes as they take in every moment possible, not wanting to miss out on a minute. Your lips are curved into a smile as you watch and Joel allows himself to wonder how they’d feel on him.

He notices a piece of your hair has fallen into your face and just before the thought of moving it converts to an action, you move to look up at him. Feeling panicked, he moves to scratch his nose and yawn. He stretches slowly and you look forward once more, unalarmed at first of his fidgeting. He was an older man after all. He was probably already getting stiff sitting still.

Joel’s stretch turns into an awkward hand on the back of your chair. This gets your attention. You can see his knuckles peeking over your shoulder and you wonder if the proximity was intentional. Inside, Joel is burning and tense. How could he be so stupid? The yawn and reach? Really? Did someone give him an ‘Oldest Tricks in the Book’ book?

Through his peripheral vision, he looks down to you, searching for any reason to give you any wanted space. He finds none. You’re content and still watching the movie. For the most part. In reality, your mind is reeling just as much as his.

Deciding to be a little more brave, Joel goes to rest his hand against your shoulder. Touching. He was touching you in a comforting way. Between this and walking arm in arm, just the slight contact makes him light headed. It’s been so long since he’s ‘made moves’ on anyone. He’s wracked with nerves and mostly stressed he’s lost his touch. That to you, he’s some cringe-y, single dad.

You feel his thumb starts to move against your shoulder in soft, slow, circles. Despite the motion’s intention to relax, you notice how tense he is. Looking down, his other hand is a fist, fidgeting with the hem of his flannel and you can see he’s watching the movie but every so often his eyes are darting around and down to you. It dawns on you just then that he is trying to make a move.

A mischievous smile spreads on your lips. If Joel was going to be subtle and innocent about his advancements towards you, you were ready to make this as easy on him as possible. After all, the man has been through hell and does deserve a win. Your mind ran a million miles an hour just picturing what might come next. Your attraction to him was at least somewhat reciprocated. It made thinking straight hard, but you knew you had to find some way to show him that he is more than welcome to be more comfortable with you.

You grin to yourself, knowing your plan is in place and you’re too excited to think of previous insecurities of his attraction to you. His sweaty palms and arm on your shoulder proved enough. Sighing lightly, you also feign fatigue, and carefully rest your head on Joel's shoulder.

You feel his upper torso tense and then relax as he processes what you’ve done. Feeling yourself move a bit to get more comfortable, he takes the opportunity to relax his own muscles, recognizing just how stiff they were beginning to get, and he moves his arm to fully drape over you and pull you in. His muscles loosening underneath you is your sign to move an arm over to rest on his leg.

His muscles were taught underneath his jeans. You felt the sweat on his palms, but it didn’t bother you. It actually made you smile. Joel Miller. A tough Texan who rarely let others in was a nervous wreck trying to get close to you. You stifled a giggle and adjusted yourself to be slightly more pressed into his body, almost crossing your leg with his.

Joel could hardly breathe. You were playing into it. It crossed his mind that maybe you’re being nice and don’t want to reject him. But he also noticed your hand on his thigh and how you sometimes would trace shapes or squeeze it lovingly there. It made him feel like a teenager, and he was basking in every second he got to feel his hand on your waist.

The only reason you both noticed the movie ended was when others began to stand up, grab their seats and the floodlights that lit the area came on. It made both of you jump a bit but no one rushed to untangle themselves from the other. He looked over to you, who began to slowly get up from where you were, cool air running over what had once been covered in warmth on his side. He tried to ignore the emptiness he felt without you being next to him so close, having grown accustomed to it for a couple hours.

“So…” You trailed off, not really sure what to say. Your anxiety was through the roof. Both of you weren’t sure if you should address what just happened, or go back to business as usual. Joel spoke before you could. “Let me walk you home.” He quickly insisted, standing and holding a hand to you. You smiled and took it, feeling a bit nervous. You knew if you didn’t address it immediately, it would definitely happen later. You hoped when he got to your door.

The walk home was quiet for the most part. A few comments on the movie, Joel told you a part he’s loved since he was young. You noted how nice it is to be able to do this despite the world’s circumstances. He agreed.

You’d just turned onto your street when Joel spoke again. “Can we talk?” He stopped mid step. It was a rare moment of bravery from him you wrote off as uncharacteristic. Startled by the abruptness, you stopped as well, disconnecting from his hand but not wanting to.

He watched as your arm fell back to your side. With a strong huff of air, he covered his mouth in stress. “I don’t know how to say this.” He said, honestly. You dreaded the worst. He’s going to tell you he doesn’t want this- or anything more. This wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to go home with you.

“Start with the first word.” You suggested, hoping you’d spark anything to get him to spit out what he was trying to say faster. Like a bandaid, you wanted the end of this to be quick and easy.

“You.” Joel said, clearly having more but working through how to put it. You gave him pause to gather his thoughts. “Y’know, you’re always on my mind but we don’t talk and then today you ask me to see the movies, but it’s just because you don’t want to go alone…” He begins to ramble. “Which I know is bullshit because you don’t mind going places by yourself.” Your breath hitches in your throat. He’s seen you this whole time. Why has he not said anything? Done anything?

“And then you spend half the damn movie basically in my lap and darlin’”- That nickname. “I am trying to be as respectful as possible but you just look so beautiful all the damn time and after tonight I don’t know if you feel the same, but I-I need to know. So I know what I can and can’t say to you. Say the word and I promise I’ll never touch you in that way.”

Dumbfounded, you just looked at him, mouth slightly open. It was the most Joel had ever said at one time to you, ever. He never vented. He spoke but in small bits and it was straightforward. He knew what to say. He always knew what to say. But around you he didn’t.

That one small fact had you lightheaded. And then his words dawned on you. Say the word and I promise I’ll never touch you in that way.

“No!” You blurted out. “I mean, I want you to touch me.” You cringed at how awkward it came out. “I mean…” A laugh from yourself blurted out at how hard this really was to put into words. “What do you want to say to me?” Settling on that, you looked into his eyes and found them pouring into yours. He’d smiled and chuckled in relief at your nervousness, giving him enough of an answer. Stepping forward, he traced the side of your face with a calloused finger, stopping after moving hair behind your ear. It gave you chills.

“I want to say,” He paused, looping a hand around your waist. “That I’ve been waiting to get you in my arms since we first met.” His words were enough to make the coldest person alive melt. “And you’re the only one who has got me wrapped around their finger like you.” His low voice rumbled in your chest as he closed some of the distance between you. He paused. Searching your eyes for any kind of resistance, hesitation… regret. He found none.

“I was going to say the same thing.” You grinned, closing any space between the both of you. His lips were rough on yours, his beard prickling the edges of your cheeks. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you sank into his grasp.

Joel felt like this was who he was supposed to be kissing. Who’s skin he was meant to be touching. His heart was thundering in his chest. He’d been falling for you for so long, he forgot the possibility that you’d possibly feel the same and settled on the idea you were better off without him. He knew now, under your grip which was soft but commanding all at once, you were just as deep in pining after him in return.

In reality, you kissed like that under the low street lighting for three minutes. It felt like an hour. Pulling away felt like diving underwater, far away from oxygen. Barely a foot apart and yet it felt so far.

“Do you want to come inside when we get back?” You asked, breathless. He chuckled, lips curving into a smile to match your own. “I want nothing more, sweetheart.” Joel’s gravelly tone lulled. It was rich with care and lust. Damn that voice. The voice that would drift you to sleep that night, whispering sweet praises under sheets you’d only slept in alone prior. It felt nice to have his breath on your neck, his bare legs tangled with yours, his soft skin on yours until morning. Ellie got the privacy she needed, and Joel got the night he deserved.

You’d worry about what to tell your mother some other time.

thank you guys for reading! hope you enjoyed. this has been my first official fully finished fic since returning to tumblr! i appreciate everyone's support :))

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