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frosleon · 11 days ago

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The first chapter for my Joel Miller x Reader fanfic was posted today over on Ao3. You can read it here: BLUE HORIZON ♡

I'll also be posting the first chapter here as a courtesy. I've been working on this for a few weeks now. I always appreciate feedback.

Summary —

You’ve lived in Jackson for five years now — quietly tending your trade, burying memories under dirt and roots. But one cold afternoon, a too-heavy sack of potatoes and a too-soft look from Joel Miller begin to unravel something much heavier. What starts as a simple dinner offer turns into a quiet evening of laughter, firelight, and the first honest moment between two people who have never quite said what they meant to.

⇩⇩ READ BELOW ⇩⇩

CHAPTER 1: THE DINNER

You wipe the back of your hand on your forehead and groan. Three weeks now you’ve kept putting off this haul of potatoes to the General Store and now the sack was too big as you drag it down the streets of Jackson.

Dirt kicks up and you slip under. Groaning even louder from your own frustration, you try your best to pull the sack but sadly slip under once again.

“Mother - fuck!” You shout. Even as a child you were easily tempered. Though in this instance it was more of the sheer embarrassment caused to yourself having to lug this huge sack around like Claus on Christmas Eve. Your shout echoes and suddenly a familiar voice is calling to you.

Joel was sitting on his porch cleaning his guitar, enjoying the sun and the feeling of safety and comfort of Jackson. Yesterday was a hustle and bustle with his most recent scouting mission so today he meant to be lazy but he saw you before even hearing your shout.

Your houses weren’t too far apart. Fifty-two steps to be exact. Joel's stride, specifically.

"Everything okay over there?" He asks as he puts his guitar aside leaning it against the side table positioned between the two rocking chairs of his porch. His attention immediately on you and your rugged sack.

“Yeah, Joel… I’m fine.” You reply, growling under your breath as sweat pelts down your temples and slips into the corners of your eyes.

He lifts himself from his seated position and folds his glasses up and into his shirt’s front pocket. Three steps down from his porch and he walks up to you. Without a word, without even an ask, he grabs the sack of potatoes off the ground.

"Jesus, how heavy is this?" He says as he leans forward and throws the sack over his shoulder.

You scoff and rub your dirty hands over the fabric of your blue jeans, shrugging. “Dunno, twenty… thirty pounds.”

A smirk crawls across your lips and you elbow him, making him teeter with the sack over his shoulder.

—

You met Joel five years ago. Cold and hungry, you had made it to Jackson, barely hanging by a thread along with the rest of your group. Your small town of Rock Springs was burned to the ground by raiders, rapists, cultists – they had many names and many more ways of hurting people. The attack took your Mother, it took most of your community, and not to mention took the only place you ever called Home.

You were born two years after the outbreak. Your Father died protecting you and your Mother. Just a baby you were, clinging to your Mother’s arms as she fought through the Hell that was on Earth. Human chaos. Cordyceps maculate itself on the Earth and onto everyone’s skin, into their brains. Traveling from Kansas where you were born and finding shelter in Rock Springs, Wyoming – your Mother fought hard to give you what life she could in all the misery.

Joel was at the front gate. He checked your group. Him and his brother Tommy, gave you shelter. Gave you a new community. You stuck out to him, because despite your slovenly appearance, you made a joke, you made him laugh.

“I got busy. I forgot to do my weekly drop off, potatoes are growing well this year.” You explain, wiping more sweat from your forehead as he steadies himself from your inconsiderate nudge, giving you a side-eye.

Joel starts walking in the direction of the General store, the potato sack on his shoulder, heavy but him managing it to look like a light bag of grapes or a sack full of feathers.

“Twenty pounds? Don’t make me laugh, kiddo. Bet this thing weighs as much as you do.” Joel taunts, keeping his stride leisurely so as not to leave you behind.

“Don’t think you’d be carrying it so easily if it weighed as much as me...” You sneer at him, being sure to walk directly beside him. The town of Jackson was bustling. It was that time of the year. The snow was coming, and everyone was stocking up and amassing as much as they could. Wood, food, cloth, you name it. Just about everything. Even one another.

Joel chuckles at your comment.

"That attitude of yours is gonna get you into trouble one day, girl."

He notices the commotion around town as you both walk. His eyebrows drew together.

"Busy day today… Folks ain't wasting any time prepping for the snows." His slick Texan accent comes out low and smooth.

“Or the infected.” You mumble just enough for Joel to hear you.

As you both continue on your walk to the General store, you can’t help but notice the flow of people going in and out of the gun store. You had to have a license that was provided by Jackson Town Hall to own a gun. Everyone was allowed to obtain a gun by town’s law, you just had to put in the time and effort of obtaining said license to own one. Scouts, perimeter guards and most town officials, like Joel, owned one by default, but they had their own set of laws to follow. Keep the peace.

We arrive at the General Store a few moments later and Joel hauls the potatoes through the swinging door. Amy behind the counter makes a face. You feel childish as you pout in her direction, sensing her annoyance of your untimely delay for your usual supply drop. You weren’t a farmer by choice, no, you were an amateur botanist but besides the study of the Cordyceps and the occasional herbal run, you needed a steady trade within the walls of Jackson. Luckily farming meant dealing with plants to a certain degree, even if some sprouted too fast and were shaped like Mr. Potato head. My Mother told me about him. Toys that come to life, some movie.

Before Joel heads over to the counter you stop him. “Wait.” You pull down at the sack and take a few out and set them aside. You grab a paper bag from Amy’s counter and drop a few in, then proceed to hold it up towards him. “Here — for helping me.”

Walking closer to the counter he sets the sack down with a grunt of relief, grateful for the weight off his shoulders. Joel looks at the paper bag of potatoes you hand him, a little surprised by your gesture.

"You don't have to do that, kiddo. It was nothin'. Really.” His lips curve up in a small smile but he’d easily deny it.

You roll your eyes before you speak again. Why he always insisted on calling you kiddo baffled you. You were coming to the end of your twenties. Far from a child.

“You helped me, when you didn’t need to.” You reach for his wrist, jerking it forward and making him grab the paper bag of potatoes. When he still refused, you exhaled hard, becoming resigned to his refusal of what you know he deemed “charity”.

“If you won’t take them, at least let me come around, cook ‘em for you?” Now your Southern drawl seeps out.

Joel stared at you for a moment. He tightened his grip on the paper bag, making it crumble at the crease and chuckled as you insisted, realizing there was no point in arguing. You were a firecracker, just like him. Head to head. Once at a dinner party, months ago, you both refused to carry on with the celebrations because you contended back and forth on what made a buck a buck and a stag a stag.

"All right, all right, fine." He finally takes the potatoes, giving in to your insistence.

"You’re stubborn as an ox, anyone ever tell you that?"

Joel shakes his head, but can't help but let out a puff of air, almost like a chuckle. "Comin’ over… to cook just potatoes?” Another puff of air leaves his lips as we both head for the exit.

“Well sure, among other things... how about tonight?” You reiterate as you both walk out.

The bell chiming as the front door swung shut. The first sight of snowfall was showing in the mountain’s peaks just outside and above Jackson. Winter was moving in fast.

Joel follows your line of sight and glances up towards the mountain peaks as well, noting the first hints of snow. "Tonight, huh?"

He contemplates for a moment. "Sure, sounds good. I ain't got much goin' on."

He looks back at you with a slight smirk.

"Just don't try to poison me with your cooking, alright?"

You both split off after the General store and return back to your respective houses.

Buying time before dinner, you mosey around your home, grabbing herbs from your own personal garden and spot cleaning out of sheer anxiety.

Anxiety? Why were you nervous? This wasn’t the first time you had been to Joel’s house and for far lesser things as well. Perhaps though, that was it. This was a dinner between the two of you. More face time with him to confront the unspoken battle between your ribcage. How he pulled you in a way you haven’t felt since you were young and unsure of what love even was.

—

The sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over Jackson. The town was settling down for the evening. It was time for dinner.

Joel sat on the porch of his simple but cozy house, taking a moment to revel in the peace. The air crisp with a slight chill indicative of the cold months ahead. The sound of some birds nearby fills the air.

Just as the golden hue casts further down, Joel's ears perk. He hears the sound of someone approaching. Boots against dirt. Looking up to see, he feels a small smile pull at his lips. It's you. He waves.

"Heya, kiddo. Right on time." He says, gesturing for you to come sit in the rocking chair next to him.

You’d think the guy was in his 80s the way he sits perched on his porch all the time, rocking away. Odd behavior for a 50 year man.

I walk up the steps and sit in the rocking chair beside him, my hands stuffed deep into my coat’s pockets. “Got chilly, fast…” I mumble.

Joel chuckles at your observation. "Yeah, winter ain't messin' around this year, it seems."

He rocked back and forth in his chair, a small creak coming from it with each movement.

"You look frozen through." He remarked. "Should've worn more layers."

“Well we aren’t cooking outside are we?” You scoff and roll your eyes at him, giving off a snarky smirk after.

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at your sarcasm. "Nah, we wouldn't want you freezein' completely solid out here."

He stretched back in his chair, gazing up at the sky and watching as hues of pink and yellow dance around. "Come on, let's go inside and warm up. Got a fire goin' already."

He stands to his feet, offering a hand to help you up.

I take his hand and we go inside.

—

Joel stokes the fire as you start with the potatoes you gave him earlier in the day. Scalloping them and preparing a glaze while Joel cooks two pork loins for us. You nip a bit of rosemary from your garden and hand it over to him. Laughter echoes in his kitchen as you both sip beer and swap horror stories of our time out on the road before Jackson.

Joel cooked the pork loins to perfection, the savory aroma filling the air. He added the rosemary you had provided, infusing the dish with its earthy fragrance.

As they sat down to eat, the stories flew back and forth across the table. "So there I was, cornered by a damn Bloater and no Molotovs left. It was... not a good time." Joel reminisced with a smirk, shaking his head.

“Holy shit. How the hell did you get out of that?” You say, trying to not talk too much with your mouth full.

Joel leans back, another small smirk playing on his lips. “Well... turns out I was so intimidating, it booked it all the way to Missouri."

He chuckles at his own joke, taking a swig of beer. "In reality, I had to play it smart and sneak around it. Distract it by throwing a brick to the other end of the room, then I high tailed it out a window."

You snort at his incredible “dad” joke and then swallow your bite, washing it down with some beer. You take a few more bites out of the scalloped potatoes and then set your fork down, looping your fingers together as you rest your elbows on his dinner table.

“Ya' know, sometimes I think I was better out there than here. Not so much the fighting to survive or that constant feeling of hopelessness… it’s the people that seem more challenging. I was so distant growing up. I always wanted to be out, crawling the walls of my community just to get a glance of the world beyond the walls. Beyond the people.” You sip some beer to coat your throat. “Yet, I end up right back where I left.”

Joel listens intently, taking in your words with a thoughtful expression. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Out there, it was pretty simple — survive or die. But dealing with people... that's a whole other ball game." He takes a sip of his beer, contemplating. "And going from being constantly on the run to suddenly having a whole community, it can be a hard adjustment."

He sets down his beer, eyeing you.

“Yeah. Exactly…” You push around vegetables on your plate, nodding slowly. “Exactly.”

—

We finish some more beers and stand outside on his porch. Joel has a cigarette and I lean on his railing, watching as the first snowfall from the mountains makes its way into Jackson.

“There it is…”

Joel puffs away on his cigarette, the smoke wisping away into the cold air. “Yeah, there it is. Winter's officially here."

He leans against the porch rail next to you, staring out into the snow-dusted landscape.

"Always weird, first snowfall of the season. Feels like the world's changin' again." He grunts.

“Makes me remember how calm things can be but not too much to forget the chaos that exists just outside those walls.” I nudge my beer bottle to the outer wall in the distance. Jackson started out so small, two-hundred at the beginning. Now there are thousands of people, and every day more come or traders from all over stop in. A glance into the reality of what life use to be before the infected came to be.

“What was it like…” You drift off a bit. The alcohol making you feel a little fuzzy. “…before it all became shit?”

Joel takes a moment to collect his thoughts before answering the question.

"Before the world went tits up... it was... different. There was so much we took for granted. I remember goin' to malls, havin' a steak from a nice restaurant, drivin’ around just to feel the wind. Normal stuff, you know?" He pauses, looking off into the distance.

He continues. "But also... a lot more rules. People were chained by that, by the expectations to be good. Nobody really lived life like they do now, just felt like... we just existed at times.” He moves his eyes away from the distance and looks over to you. “But things were more safe, in a different way.”

“Uh huh… I see.” You exhale into your bottle before you take the last few sips then set it down. You turn to him, with a soft hiccup and offer a small smile.

“I think it's about time I call it a night.”

Joel glances at you, he returns your smile finding your hiccup endearing. He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out on the porch rail. "Yeah, probably a good idea. 'Bout that time."

He pushes himself off the rail, gesturing towards the steps. "Need me to walk you home, kiddo?"

“Will ya?” You tilt your head and raise your brows. You were only a few blocks away but you didn’t trust yourself to pass out in the snow beneath you and die of frostbite.

Joel snorts at your request, shaking his head with a grin.

"Yeah, I'll walk you. Can't have you sprawled out in the snow like a damn drunken starfish."

He leads the way down the porch steps and makes sure to keep his pace slow so he can walk beside, heading in the direction of your house.

—

The walk to your house is short and quiet, except for the crunches of snow under your boots and the soft rustle of wind through the trees. Joel maintains his pace with you, his hands in the pockets of his coat.

When you both reach your house, Joel turns to you. His cheeks and the tip of his nose pink from the cold.

"Alright. Here we are. You made it." He remarks with a small smile.

You feel your heart race. “Thanks Joel. For everything today. The potatoes. The help. The dinner… this…" You extend your hands out to insinuate the walk to your home. “The company.”

Joel shrugs, waving off your thanks.

"It ain't nothin'. Just lookin' out for each other, right?"

He returns your smile. "Always up for some company. Hell, you kept me entertained for the night. Better than every other dull and boring evening by myself."

We share a laugh and then look up at him, some snow attaches itself to his hair and you reach up. “You got…”

You slowly pull a single snowflake from a lock of his brown hair, your hand lingering and lightly trailing down his face. Letting your nails brush just over his beard.

Joel remains still, feeling the slight touch of your hand on his cheek. He looks down at you with a mix of surprise and confusion. "You uh... got it?" He asks, slightly disoriented by the sudden closeness.

“Y-Yeah.” You let your thumb linger for just a moment more before you completely take your hand away. ”Got it.”

Joel clears his throat, feeling a bit unnerved by your lingering touch. He takes a step back, trying to shake off the unexpected intimacy.

"Well uh... thanks." He glances down at you with slight awkwardness. A silence falls between you both before Joel speaks up again.

“You should probably get inside. Get some rest."

“You too.” Your voice is soft, just above a whisper as you begin to walk up your steps before you take out your keys and turn your doorknob, opening your door but not before turning back to watch him walk away into the snowy dark distance.

“Be safe… Joel.” You call out.

Joel stops, turning back to look at you with a puzzled expression. He's a little taken aback by your concern.

"Oh hey, don’t worry about me. I can handle myself. You do the same." His voice is gruff, concealing a hint of vulnerability. His eyes linger over your form as snow blows around him. "Goodnight, kiddo."

Once you shut your front door, you lay your hand over your chest, feeling your heart race as you exhale. "Does he not know? How much more obvious can I be?" You think to yourself as your eyes shift down and you turn back to my door, locking it and retreating deeper inside your home and getting ready for bed.

—

Joel watches you enter your house and close the door, his mind still replaying the brief moment of closeness between the two of you. He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and starts heading back toward his own home.

As he walks, he can't help but wonder about what just happened. He's been alone for so long, and your unexpected touch had caught him off guard. He wonders if you meant something by it or if he's just overthinking things.

Joel's mind continues to race as he finally arrives back home and walks directly into his bedroom after locking up, replaying the moment over and over. It's unfamiliar territory for him, and he can't quite put his finger on how he feels about it.

He takes off his coat and tosses it onto a chair in the corner. Plopping down onto the edge of his bed, he runs a hand through his hair, still deep in thought.

Processing. Thought after thought. His mind keeps wandering back to the feeling of your hand on his face, your soft skin against his beard. It was an odd sensation, one he couldn't remember experiencing in such a long time.

Joel slips out of his boots and lies back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He lets out a long exhale, still trying to make sense of what just happened and what it all meant but soon exhaustion finds him. Slowly but surely he drifts to sleep. His eyes shifting behind his lids as his breath evens out. He begins to dream, which he rarely does, and all he seems to dream of is a blue horizon and… you.

#gonna go read this rn #joel miller #friends stuffs #fan fic

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