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smok3r7 · 2 days

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One Door Closes & Another One Opens

Joel x OFC!Divorce Lawyer

Explicit, 18+

Voice To The Face

Main MasterList & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: She’s a divorce attorney and he’s a husband looking for help to save his daughter, and himself, from his gambling addict wife. Renae Russo is a woman who fights for her clients and wins. She’s satisfied with her life and what she does - but she wishes she could have a little more. What happens when Joel Miller becomes her client and she gets to see this man fight for the safety of his ten year old daughter, Sarah. Will she be able to keep it professional?

Chapter Summary: Both Joel and Renae finally find the courage to make the right decisions to better their lives and find true happiness, partially together and partially not. Better late than never.

Word count: 5.8k

—

Mindlessly pacing back and forth in Tommy’s backyard, Joel can’t seem to stop talking to Renae. The conversation flows so easily, there’s no awkward silence, no vile words being thrown around, no drunken nonsense, and no slot machine music in the background. It’s the first time in years Joel feels listened to and has someone who actually engages in conversation.

His flip-flops pop on the cement that surrounds the inground pool - he’s probably done at least two dozen laps in a matter of minutes. The sky has changed to a soft blue with a hue of orange coming from the sun that’s starting to set, soft bubble-like clouds scatter the sky, and the vibrant oak and ash trees dance with the wind that lightly blows. Summers in Austin can be outright magical, but they can also be dangerously hot. Thankfully this year has been more of the cooler weather, but Joel’s not gonna jinx it because he’s noticed as he gets older, he hates the heat.

Joel didn’t expect to be by the pool for this call, so his jeans stick to his sweaty legs and groin as he paces, making him adjust his semi-hard cock that's been fighting with his zipper. If he would’ve known the first call with a divorce lawyer would’ve gone this way, he wouldn’t have been around Tommy. He started the call sitting with Tommy in his front lawn, both sitting around an ash-filled fire pit with whiskeys in each other's hands, but after about five minutes of Tommy wanting to know every tiny bit of what she was saying, Joel just stood up and walked to the backyard, whiskey in hand.

The phone call started out professional; he went into extreme detail about his financial details, how he wants physical and sole custody of Sarah with no strings to Annie, and that he wants to keep everything except the Toyota. She can keep that damn thing for all he cares, it’s of no use to him.

However, about thirty minutes into the call, after Joel mentioned he also wants to keep the cabin he and Annie bought when they first got together, Renae is the one to change the energy of the call from business to somewhat casual. She talks about how she loves camping in cabins and that she hasn’t gone camping in over a decade, and Joel makes sure to remember that she’s been to ten different campsites in Texas.

If things go a certain direction, he might be able to help her add to that list. At the same time, Joel can’t stop from thinking how he’s already looking into the future with her, during a time where he’s getting divorced. But he quickly finds himself getting distracted by the way her business voice morphed into this bubbly, sarcastic one that has Joel hypnotized by her every word.

And just like that, the floodgates open and the divorce talk is forgotten about completely by both parties.

Another thirty minutes go by of Joel and Renae getting to know each other through talking about fun activities they’ve individually done in the past and things they both enjoy. He talks about things he’s done with Sarah throughout her life, the memories of going to Disney World, to Cedar Point, the Grand Canyon all start to play out like a movie in his brain. Joel hasn’t thought about some of the things that play for him right now in some years - he’s been too occupied to reminisce about the past, so he goes silent for a moment getting lost in little Sarah giggles and hugs.

“That reminds me of the time my sister and I went tubin’ and both of us flew- and when I say flew, I mean we went like ten feet in the air!” She laughs on the other side of the phone.

Seriously? Joel can’t help but chuckle as he asks her, his left hand rubs the back of his neck as he passes the metal handle that leads to the pool steps. Circling for what could very well be the hundredth time.

“Yes, Joel, my dad is insane when it comes to his boat. But I wouldn’t have anyone else drive it, and he wouldn’t either.”

“That sounds like a smart man to me. Sounds like me with my pontoon.”

“Joel, stop it right now,” her southern twang takes control as she drags out her words almost in a whiny voice, but not annoying like Annie. Quite the opposite, actually, any tone from Renae has Joel drooling from his mouth and dick.

“You keep surprisin’ me with these fun little facts about you.”

Heat rushes instantly to his face, and he’s so taken aback that his feet plant themselves and he drags his fingers through the top of his curls and stops them on the back of his head, where he softly scratches his scalp. Something about her smart-ass attitude, silk-like voice, and confident cadence all combined and tied with a large bow to make it better has him not feeling like himself, and he can’t tell if that’s good or not.

“I’ve lived a pretty full life darlin’, there’s lots of things you’d learn from me.”

Joel feels like he must be on a roll or something because of the way she giggles; it’s almost like he can see her sun kissed cheeks start to turn red and her teeth shine from her smile. His heart beat thumps in his chest and cock that’s now supported by the waistband of his boxers and jeans. Thankfully he’s somewhat smart enough to have his back facing the two story home to hide the effects from this one woman.

“Well, since you’re offering, I couldn’t possibly pass that up. That would just be pretty dumb of me.” Joel knows she’s serious but he also hears the bit of sarcasm that laces her words. It’s like a fun game of cat and mouse, who’s gonna fold first, and Joel is loving every second of it.

Joel’s body feels light and airy, his chest isn’t tight. Most importantly, he’s not walking on eggshells. It’s become so natural for him to always be on alert and pay attention to the little inflections of someone’s voice and body language, but that hasn’t happened once since he’s been on this call. It’s refreshing to have a simple, yet meaningful, conversation with someone - her slight southern charm with some street knowledge, and with him knowing her physical attributes, Joel can’t complain in the slightest.

He feels like he’s hit the lottery with Renae and he hasn’t even met her yet.

“Well sugar, how about I come to see ya’ tomorrow ‘n I’ll teach ya’ some things.” The second glass of whiskey gives Joel the confidence he needs to keep up the playful banter and not feel self conscious about it. A second goes by and he swears he hears her try to cover up another giggle, I still got it. Joel hasn’t flirted in years, after so long he was convinced he could never do it again and he was going to be this cold hearted old man for the rest of his life.

“Come by anytime between noon and four,” she says, her voice low and sweet, “Just say you’re here for Russo and she’ll bring you to me.”

“Someone’s eager,” Joel can’t help but grin, “But it sounds like a deal, darlin’.”

“Well I wanna put a face to the smooth voice- uh, I-” she’s now stumbling on her words trying to hide the fact that she just slipped up more than she wanted to. “You may want to bring paper copies of bills, properties you own, and any evidence against Annie that you have. Ya’ know, for our first conciliation- free of charge for you.”

“Will get as much as I can by then-”

“Dad!”

Joel spins around and sees Sarah standing in the doorway with her Nightmare Before Christmas pajama set and her brown hair is pulled up in a high bun that sits on her head. “Are you done yet? I wanna play uno before bed!” She shouts with both of her hands sitting on her hips as she pops her left hip out dramatically and her face has a scowl the size of a monster.

He can’t help but snort at the amount of attitude that spews out of his four foot daughter - oddly enough, he hears Renae snickering in his right ear.

“Give me one minute, kiddo, just gotta finish this call.”

“Ugh, you said that over an hour ago,” Sarah groans and spins around to storm off into Tommy’s, but before she takes a step Joel is quick to check her. He lets some attitude and smart ass comments fly, but not when it comes to something like this. It’s too close to her coming off as a snooty kid - which is not the kind of behavior he will tolerate.

He rests his phone on his chest as his voice booms across the pool and yard from her, “Would ya’ rather just go to bed?” This stops her and causes her to turn her head. I’m sorry, she apologizes. He nods and she’s gone inside. Then he shakes his head, raising his left hand to his face as he rubs the corner of his eye for a moment to collect himself.

“Sorry ‘bout that-“

“Don’t be,” Renae interrupts him, “When duty calls you gotta act on it, I get it. Well, not cause of kids, but- you know what I mean. Anyways, I’ll let you go for the night and I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Joel Miller.”

He doesn’t want to hang up, he could talk with her for hours and hours. But ultimately he knows he has to, there’s no other option. He’s been dreading this part of the call, partially due to the fact he knows he’s gotta go back to reality.

“Alrighty, Ms. Russo,” he purrs, “Rest up so ya’ can see if my face meets your expectations.”

Renae giggles and the shaking of her bracelets clangs together faintly in the background. “Night, Joel.”

Then just like that, she hangs up. Leaving Joel smirking like a fifteen year old boy who just talked to his first crush and got her number. But now he’s alone with his conflicting thoughts and feelings about how he should handle this delicate situation.

—

On my way back now, a client surprised me. Be home in 10<3

Renae hits send to Gia, who texted her about five minutes ago reminding Renae that she said she’d be home no later than six-thirty - it's ten after seven. Renae had gotten distracted by her phone call with Joel, that she forgot her sister and niece were even in town. There was just something about him that entranced her and kept her wanting to learn more and more about him and who he is as a person.

Renae’s phone goes off with a ding, and she picks it up and unlocks it to see a response.

Kk I just got B out the bath and she’s playing with Frankie, see you when you get here<3

Renae smiles and holds down the message and presses the heart reaction, letting Gia know she read it. After tossing her phone in her purse on her passenger side, she puts her car in drive and heads home.

But she can’t stop thinking of Joel. The way his southern drawl slurs his words just a bit, his laugh deep and sounds like it starts in his belly and climbs into his chest, and the way he talks so highly of his daughter like she’s the most precious thing to him. It’s almost too perfect - but yet again, he is getting divorced, so maybe that’s his red flag. She can’t help but think maybe he wasn’t so innocent in the way things ended with Annie, because there’s two sides to every story.

Even with those negative things floating around her head, she can’t leave the idea of Joel alone. Renae can’t think of the last time a man who has been open about emotions and relationships and a stand up guy all around.

Well, that’s kind of a lie.

Dominic Amaro.

That man will forever be the standard of a boyfriend that Renae will ever have. When they broke up, she told herself that she would never settle for anything less than that and she has upheld that since then. It hasn’t been easy, Renae’s used to the toxic, needy guys - for some god awful reason - so she’s had to learn how to steer clear from those people.

Joel seems to be the opposite of what she would be into, however she’s only basing this off of his voice and personality with a mix of his playful humor.

Sugar, darlin’, Ms. Russo.

Renae can’t stop replaying those words in Joel’s voice. She’s hooked, addicted even. She’s not sure how she’s gonna be able to keep her composure tomorrow. If he looks anything like she imagines - she’s fucked, and not in a good way.

Well, maybe…who knows?

By the time she reaches her apartment complex, she’s already looking forward to sleeping. But she knows she can't. Bianca is going to want to watch The Princess Bride before she goes to bed tonight. It's become tradition since the first time Bianca traveled five years ago. The first night they stayed, Gia suggested it and Bianca just fell in love with the movie. The next time they visited, Renae surprised Bianca with baking sugar cookies before the movie so they would be done about half way through. Then they could snack on some treats while enjoying the movie before they all went to bed.

It’s helped heal a bit of Renae’s broken heart that she denies having; being able to create joy for Bianca out of something so minuscule is all Renae needs.

“I’m back!” She announces as she pushes her front door open and instantly spots everyone in the living room to her left. “So sorry I’m late, I got caught up on a call.” She can feel Gina’s eyes scorning her back as Renae faces her kitchen, setting down her purse and laptop bag. Like she always does.

But before Gia can get a word out, Bianca is at Renae’s hip, saving her from any bullshit her mom was about to unleash. “It’s okay, we got the movie all set and got the cookies mixed up, they just gotta go in the oven!” Bianca squeals as she looks up at Renae with this enormous smile that Renae can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy; she looks so much like a mix of Gia and Renae, the Russo genes are strong.

“Lovebug, you are the bomb,” Renae lowers her right hand a low five, which Bianca smacks hard. “Just lemme’ go change and we can start!”

“Okay!” Bianca cheers as she hugs Renae’s hips and runs back into the living room with Gia and Frankie. The apartment is now filled with puppy barks and growls as Bianca plays tug-a-war with him on the dark gray carpet that has a hint of navy blue to it, that covers the living room.

“Can I talk with you for just a second?” Gia asks with a snide tone while standing up from the navy leather couch, then walking behind Renae who’s heading to her room.

“Don’t think I have much of a choice,” Renae sighs in defeat while opening her bedroom door. In a strange way, she now feels like the little sister who’s about to get scolded by the older one for god knows what. However, deep down Renae knows that Gia can sense something is up. When she and Bianca are in town, Renae is never late and won’t ever give a half-assed excuse, for anything - so Gia definitely knows something is different.

Before Renae can even get one heel off, Gia is already shooting off a hundred questions at once. To anyone else it would sound like pure gibberish, but Renae has no problem making out each word and being able to understand them.

So who’s the guy? How old? Does he have money? Is he tall? Fat? Skinny? Short? How long has this been goin’ on? Are you and Dominic talking again? You only glow like this when you’re with or talking with him- She takes a split second to gasp out of a realization, oh my god…it is Dominic. When were you gonna tell me? How long?

By the time she’s finished with her array of questions, Renae has already changed into her oversized tee and shorts and is now in her bathroom relieving her face from the makeup that’s melted to her face from the brutal heat. Completely ignoring her sisters ridiculous blabbering, but yet hating the fact that she’s right - partially.

With both her hands flat on the pearl white countertop next to the matching white square sink that sits above the counter, instead of in it. A little touch of something different than any other place she was looking at to rent, the bathroom is really what sold her on this one bedroom, one and a half bathroom apartment.

She observes her reflection opposite of her, she can tell there is a small glow that shines from her face; her cheeks have a brighter color to them, her green eyes piercing but soft, her shoulders are relaxed and low. She’s not tense, like she has been for the last few years. Not because of anything in particular, she just hasn't been able to let loose like she wants.

After a few more seconds of taking in her appearance, she sees how happy she looks. The defined lines in between her eyebrows are softer, the smiles lines grow from the permanent smile that paints her lips. Her eyes are full of hope and desire, much like how she feels about tomorrow. The promise of tomorrow is what’s keeping her light on her toes; the possibility of something new and unfamiliar excites Renae.

She has to venture out of her comfort zone, Dominic can’t be her safety net forever.

“Hello,” Gia drags out as she vigorously flips the light switch on and off, “Earth to Renae, anyone home?”

“Shit, yeah.” Renae shakes her head before she slides her bracelets off, along with her rings, and hoops. Then setting them on the counter next to the sink; knowing that she’ll more than likely wear them tomorrow, she doesn’t put them in her jewelry stand.

Quickly glancing over to her sister and her bump, who’s no more than a couple meters away, Renae smiles at the fact Gia is living her life exactly how she wants. The jealousy still lingers in her soul, it always will, but it’s pushed into the back of her mind for now. She goes back to her reflection and starts to put her thick hair into a low bun that sits at the bottom of her neck.

“For your information, Dominic and I aren’t back together, but we have been talking-“

“I knew it!”

Renae now completely faces Gia with a playful - kinda annoyed - expression, “Bitch, are you gonna let me finish? Or do ya’ not want the story?” Crossing her arms in front of her chest and popping her right hip that bumps into the drawer.

“Can’t help myself!” Gia scoffs as she turns around and sits on Renae’s bed, one hand planted behind her supporting her body up and the other one spreads across her belly. Her worn gray Yankee’s tee lifts enough for her belly button to pop out, Renae can't stop her lips from curving up. Pure love and compassion pours out of her whole demeanor. Seeing Gia legitimately happy and enjoying herself and her life, getting everything she wants and needs for her and her family, is such a beautiful feeling for Renae.

The big sister finally feels like the baby has finally found herself and it digs at her a little bit because she doesn’t need Renae. At least not like they did as kids. But it also fills her with this accomplished spirit because Renae was the one who pushed Gia to move to New York and make that one last step.

Now look at Gia; a badass business owner, wife, mother, and homeowner.

“I get excited when this shit happens to you, Rae… Cause you deserve it and I want it so badly for you.” Gia’s tone is now low and sincere, her body language even. She swipes the loose pieces of her shoulder length hair that’s a bright cherry blonde behind her ears and slightly sitting forward. Almost too fast for Renae to catch but she sees a small tear fall down Gia’s cheek before she quickly wipes it away with her right hand.

“Please know that I’m rooting for you in every way possible, even with our little tit-for-tat shit we do.”

Renae now in the doorway between her bedroom and bathroom with the right side of her body leaning against the frame, her left leg crossed behind her right one that supports her body and her arms still folded. The image of her pregnant sister in front of her instantly soothes her body and mind, she can never stay mad at Gia.

“Don’t go gettin’ all fuckin’ sappy on me,” Renae chuckles, “Buck up, camper.”

“Whatever, so how’s Dominic and his ma?”

“Not good, uh, he told me she’s maybe got a year left in her. Her organs just are not functioning like they should, so he’s pretty shaken by that.”

“Aw, Rae. I’m sorry, honey.”

“Yeah, well, anyway Dominic is comin’ to visit next month, so I invited him to stay with me for those few days he’s here.” Renae watches as Gia’s eyes bulge and her mouth starts to open, however she’s quick to stop her. “Nothing serious is gonna come outta it, I just figured if he’s gonna be in Austin he could save money by staying here. And maybe we’ll fuck or not, I don’t know okay?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Gia smirks as she raises her hands in surrender. “But I know that’s not everything that happened today… Spill.” Both her hands back on the mattress supporting her body as she leans back a bit with a cocky smirk.

Renae can’t help herself from laughing as she turns to flick the light off in the bathroom and slides past Gia towards the door that leads out to the rest of her apartment. She doesn’t want to explain the Joel situation right now mostly because she hasn’t even met him yet, so she really has nothing to go on. She’ll fill Gia in tomorrow after her meeting with him.

“Nice try, your daughter’s waiting for us.” She flicks her bedroom light off, “In five seconds I bet she’ll call for us. Five…four…three…two..”

“Mamaaa, are y’all almost ready?”

In her dark room the two sisters can’t help the burst of laughter and snorts that leave their mouths at the perfect timing of Bianca’s voice from the living room. Renae was just trying to switch the topic of conversation off of her before she got stuck answering to her sister.

Even though she’s a lawyer - a very good one - Gia is able to corner Renae into telling her things. She’s never been able to understand why her baby sister is the one to crack her and it’s been like this since Gia could talk. So Renae found out she has to switch the conversation or just leave the area, because otherwise Gia will sit there and pick apart every minute detail that Renae subconsciously tells.

“We’re comin’, lovebug!”

—

The flicking of Renae’s nails on her thumb and ring finger on her right hand takes over the office, her nerves tingling with anticipation. It’s the first time she’s ever been nervous to meet a client. Well frankly, she’s never had a client like this before.

She can’t stop pacing her office; around her desk, around the table that sits in the middle of her room, up and down the length of her five foot window as she stares down twelve stories at the people who look like ants. Her stomach is in knots, her throat feels dry even though she’s pounded a couple of bottles of water.

Burning rays of sun shine down on her through the window pane, causing her to turn back to her office as she scans her surroundings. Making sure everything is exactly how she wants it and nothing is slightly out of place; first impressions are huge for her.

Renae’s office is her prized possession, she’s worked her ass off to get where she is; right after high school she jumped into college - four years of college to get her bachelors in Sociology and then she did three years in Law school. Luckily she knew Rachel York through a family friend, who put a good word in for Renae and was able to start at R&R Law Firm immediately. So the last thing she wants is for a client to walk in and be instantly turned away by how her space is decorated or kept together.

Maybe that’s a stretch for anyone to think but she’s heard plenty of stories from other attorneys, where their desk wasn’t kept up completely and the client complained about him being disorganized. So ever since then Renae has been a stickler about her work space.

Why did I give him such a huge window of time? She repeats on a loop in different ways so she can try to understand her logic, but there’s no right or wrong answer. She was simply too distracted by him and too eager to meet him to even think about giving correct information. She cracks her thin fingers on both hands and a little bit of her tension is broken, at least in her hands - the other parts of her body are another story.

She tilts her head up to the clock above her desk, one o’clock on the dot. She inhales through her nose and lets it sit in her chest for a second, then exhales through her mouth once to try to escape the reality of meeting Joel. But it doesn’t help. She walks about her mahogany desk and sits in her matching colored office chair, adjusting her fitting white button-up that’s tucked into her high waisted baby blue dress pants so she’s comfortable.

Her usual curly hair, now pin straight with a middle part, reaches the top of her butt and a few money pieces in front of her shoulders and temples on her face. The gold of her jewelry shimmers with her sun-kissed skin that lays underneath the thick, choker-like chain necklace, accompanied by her medium sized hoops, bangles on each wrist and groupings of rings on either hand. Her French tipped acrylics being the cherry on top for her.

“Knock, knock.”

Renae stops like she just got caught sneaking out the house as a teenager.

He’s here. Holy shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

With her open toed white heels she spins her chair towards her door to see the mystery man that she already knows is going to uproot her life. Her body stops all movements, but her brain is working a mile a minute.

He’s from the diner… He’s the hot man from the diner.

But he’s cleaned himself up. He’s now crossed the threshold of the door about five or six feet away from her, give or take. First thing that catches her eye is how he shaved his face, keeping the mustache so not quite a baby face but not the full beard she loved yesterday. His salt and pepper curls are combed back and not messy, it even looks like he may have gotten a small haircut on the top. His dark chocolate orbs glistening along with his tanned skin from the sun that beats in from the window across the room.

She can’t believe this, it’s almost comical. In fact, she can’t help but laugh and slightly shake her head side to side while she stares up into his eyes. Joel does the same as he holds a stack of papers in a Manila folder tucked between his left bicep that’s covered by a light gray button up, which is bunched up and about ready to rip and his side.

“So you’re Joel Miller?” She giggles as she pushes herself out of her chair and steps towards him to properly greet him, for real this time and not just a quick moment of intimate eye contact while she walks away.

“This is me, darlin’,” he says, and she watches his eyes do a quick up and down gaze of her body as she gets closer. Her heart flutters at his voice, it's soft but deep like it comes from his chest and his southern tone is heavy when it comes to pet names.

Now directly in front of him, Renae extends her arm to shake his hand - for more reasons than one - her thin gold bangles chime together.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Miller”

Joel’s quick to grasp her hand, which is completely swallowed by his thick, calloused hand that squeezes for a second, “Likewise Ms. Russo.” His voice is like honey that drips and drips, having Renae begging for more of it.

—

“So you did know it was me before you came here?” Renae questions Joel with a smirk, as she barely sways her chair and pops her gum, while he sits across her desk.

Joel shifts his body just enough so his shoulder blades now rest on the back of the leather swivel chair, his right hand scratches his stubble while he chuckles at her reaction. His eyes roam around her body, even though she’s all he wants to look at. He’s partially embarrassed because he feels like a stalker of some kind, even though she’s reassured him that he’s not dozens and dozens of times.

It’s been close to two hours since he arrived at her office. The first hour was all about the divorce bullshit he’ll have to go through; canceling insurance on Annie’s Toyota and changing the title to her name, taking her off his phone plan, changing locks, taking her off of the family insurance policy. Then the worst two things that he wanted to avoid at all cost, he found out he’s going to have to deal with it - the whole process will take four months minimum because there’s a child involved and that he’s going to have to fight for physical and sole custody because Annie’s going to, and already is, fighting it.

Renae could tell he was feeling down and out of sorts just by the way his whole body tensed when Sarah came up in the conversation. So she swiftly changed the course of their conversation and turned it more easy-going and natural than the previous. Which ended up turning into an hour of joking about the fact they have somewhat already met one another and the fact the odds of that happening are slim to none.

“Yes… But,” he sits up, now halfway off the seat and his elbows rest on his knees, while his palms and fingertips pressed together, “I just happened to click on R&R Law Firm. I saw your picture - beautiful one by the way - ‘N I told myself, or, made myself is a better way to describe it. And I had to just make the call.”

Joel loves the way her face brightens whenever he compliments her or he makes a joke that she finds hilarious; the way her nose scrunches when she tries to hide her laughter or smile, makes it hard for him to stop staring. He’s just getting to know her and he’s already obsessed, addicted, fixated. It’s kind of scary how possessive he already feels around Renae.

“Thank you. It’s an old picture, I’m sure you can tell,” her hands gesture to her face for a moment before she rests them back on her armrests and scoffs. “Side note, I believe you Joel. Don’t have to defend yourself, that’s what I’m here for!” Her teeth gleam with her smile as she rolls her chair a bit to her right and gently pulls the middle drawer of her desk open and grabs a sheet of paper.

“Exactly why I wanted ya, darlin’.” He draws out the beginning of ‘exactly’ as he watches her move so smoothly behind her desk. Gliding to one side and her orange strands of hair fly with her, grabbing a pen for him to use and the top part of her button-up open just enough for Joel to get a peak of her breasts, and back in the middle as she turns the paper to him.

“Just sign here,” she circles the bottom section on the front, then flips the sheet over, “‘n here and I’m all yours.” She purrs, handing the blue pen to Joel who happily takes it. Joel rarely liked the look of Annie’s too long, bright acrylics but Renae’s simple style and length makes him rethink his opinion on acrylics. He starts to think about how pretty her French tips would look wrapped around his throbbing cock or how ravishing she looks when she’s dripping with arousal as she glides through her folds and teases herself.

Mindlessly he signs the form and sets the pen on top of it before he slides it back to Renae who’s admiring him from behind her desk. Joel's brain can’t wrap around the fact that someone as gorgeous and intelligent as Renae, is even interested in a guy like Joel. Maybe too much of the belittling and the trauma from Annie has diminished his self esteem, but he can slowly feel it coming back.

She’s all mine.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel x oc #joel and sarah #joel tlou #joel the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x original character

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fortunethief · 1 month

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We've all moved on from this too quickly

#pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #tlou #sarah miller #joel and sarah #bts #tlou bts #tlou hbo #hbo the last of us #nico parker

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stories-and-coffee · 5 months

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Found on pinterest. The artist is @felrija on Twitter.

#the last of us #tlou art #joel miller #sarah miller #ellie williams #joel and sarah #joel and ellie #ellie and sarah are sisters

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mandrillusphinx · 7 months

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Oh wow ❤️💔❤️

by Elliot Mueller

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #tlou fanart #the last of us fanart #fanart #ellie williams #joel and ellie #sarah miller #joel and sarah #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #the tipsy bison #tipsy bison

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boilingcowboy · 7 months

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absolutely going batshit insane over the parallels between Sarah and Ellie

It’s the same fucking look. It’s the same look in their eyes. the same fucking thing.

They both hold on to him the same way. the exact same way.

And he holds on to them the exact same way. the exact fucking way.

His daughters look at him and hold him the exact same way.

And he holds on to his daughters the exact same way. He even has the same look on his face.

fucking bawling over this. I am so going insane over this rn.

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softlyspector · 6 months

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birds of a feather

Summary: Sarah is going to kindergarten. Joel is forced to reckon with his differences with the other parents.

Word count: ~3k

Relationship: Joel & Sarah

Warnings: minor mentions of anxiety, a whole lot of love from one man about his daughter

A/N: I so hope you enjoy this 💕 Thank you for reading! I would love to know your thoughts! If you happen to read this please leave some feedback, this is my first lil Joel & Sarah fic 💕 As mentioned when the snippet was posted Sarah's braids were inspired by @pomegranatevampire's lovely art, which everyone should check out if you haven't already.

He’s younger than the other parents by years.

It’s the first thing he notices when he and Sarah shuffle into the classroom and take their places along the back wall with the other parents and students. She stands beside him, and slightly in front of his legs, her hand tangled up in his. Her hair is that bright yellow that reminds him of cat’s clover and sunshine and lemon drop candy.

The whole of her is bright. A bright purple dress that his mother had taken her to the thrift store to pick out, matching mary janes, and tights with cartoonish flowers on them.

It’s not often Joel feels self-conscious, about anything, but especially about Sarah. He’s proud of the kid in front of him. He does the best that he can with her, and most days he figures he does pretty well, all things considered.

Considering he’d grown up mainly around other men, considering he’d been so young, and so very alone, and that he’d never really had anything to do with a baby before.

He barely remembers when Tommy had been that small, just a blip in his memory, a blur, a smear of a blink of time.

When she had been born, it felt as though she fit in the palm of his hand. She was so tiny, and he felt so very big and clumsy. A giant really, not fit for such a small world, such a tiny life.

Wrong, too. Because he was just a kid, not yet twenty, and sometimes he cried right along with her.

Those long, impossible nights.

The first few months, awful.

Full of restless, aching nights, with a learning curve that felt like failure. There’s an indescribable kind of pain that comes with hearing your kid cry, and not know how to help, how to fix it. But he got the hang of the late nights and long days. He found out that singing, playing the guitar soothed her more than anything else he could do, anything those baby books recommended. He learned that she liked to be held best, tight against his chest, the smell of her sweet in his nose.

He hadn’t known babies smelled like that. Pleasant, like a slightly milky vanilla.

Those days had been awful, too, because he had known. Joel knew her mother was going to leave. There wasn’t any fanfare about it, and they really both knew it was for the best in the end. They weren’t meant to be married, anyhow. Circumstance and doing the right thing after gettin’ that damn girl pregnant had been the main factors and motivations of that union, rushed at the courthouse, before she started to show, to try to preserve the illusion that things had happened in reverse of the order that they really had.

Shame had been the prevailing feeling that day; sunny and warm and uncomfortable on the courthouse steps, tie too tight around his throat.

Joel was better suited to it anyway. It was natural for him, once he got the hang of it, easy as breathing. It hadn’t been for Sarah’s mother. It was hard, like pulling teeth without novocaine, no matter how much residual love she might have felt for Sarah. She just wasn’t meant for it, and that had to be okay.

He was the one better suited to responsibility, too. He already had work lined up and a mother that was willing to babysit sometimes. So, Sarah was better with him, too, just for that, logistically and all. Maybe that was the only thing that really mattered.

And, well, Joel had wanted Sarah. He wanted her to be his, even if it was something out of a nightmare sometimes, he couldn’t imagine life without her, not anymore.

Once his ex-wife left, and it was just him and Sarah, Tommy doing the occasional babysitting stint, he forgot. He forgot the shame, the crushing guilt that made everything in the world seem his fault.

He didn’t feel young, and being a parent came naturally to him, caring for Sarah, like he was always going to be her dad. He thought it might grate, that he might get resentful about it like he sometimes felt when he had to take care of Tommy growing up, but those feelings never came.

It had been easy, even if sometimes it hurt, even if most of the time he felt like he had no idea what he was doing. It felt like it was something he had always been doing, that had always been done and needed doing.

And it was easy and it got easier.

He forgot, somehow, that he is not the typical parent, that theirs is not the typical household, especially not in Austin, Texas, in late 2006.

But as he stands now in the tiny kindergarten classroom with Sarah’s hand inside his, so little and warm, it’s hard not to notice how very young he is, how very different they are as a pair.

The desks are so tiny, so miniature. Or, maybe the world is just too big. The room is heavy with that gummy new school year scent, of crayola and glue. It’s undercut by the acid lemon of some heavy duty disinfectant or cleaner or something, and by the floral, sharp snap of the perfume of the couple next to him.

They smell expensive. They look expensive, and he suddenly wonders if this is the sort of thing people are supposed to dress up for. He’s suddenly aware of the crisp button-up shirts, the starched dress pants and jeans, the slacks and the dresses.

He’s suddenly very aware that his shirt is rumpled and his jeans have seen their fair share of much better days. There’s a stain on the hem of his shirt because their morning had been a hectic one, somehow. Nerves about this, maybe, about coming here and being seen and judged despite it all, but also just about sending Sarah off to school. They were in a rush and when he elbowed Sarah’s half-empty cereal bowl across the counter, there hadn’t been time to change his shirt as they charged out the door.

Joel hadn’t even noticed he got some on himself until this very moment, looking down at his scruffy boots.

He was only a couple months shy of twenty when Sarah was born, and it shows in this room of more capable parents, of more prepared parents, of better put together parents. Only just a couple of years ago, he was attending the high school across the street. His little brother is a senior there, and Joel is still a month away from his twenty-fifth birthday.

Probably twenty-five was the age most of the folks in the room had been getting married, maybe finding out they had been pregnant if they were young when it happened.

But, he isn’t the only young parent in the room. It’s Texas, afterall, plenty married young and had kids young.

He is, however, the only single parent, and, worse, he’s the only single father in the room. Cardinal sin, he supposes, in the harsh judgment of the bible thumping south.

There are a lot of oh bless his hearts and poor things looks being exchanged. Joel recognizes some of the other parents. People from school and around town that definitely know what happened, that know how Sarah came into the world, that will go out to the parking lot after this and remind anyone that had forgotten.

Got that girl pregnant and then she ran off and left him with the baby. Can you believe that? Oh, bless his heart, I’m sure he’s trying his best.

Whole life ahead of him, what’s a little girl to do without a mother, needs a feminine touch etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

False concern hiding very real judgment.

Nothing he hasn’t overheard before. It does manage to sting here, though, because for the first time, it might affect Sarah too. Kids were more accepting than adults, but they repeated what they heard at home, too.

That knot of something hot and mean locks up in his chest, something protective and angry. The kind of thing those fucking anxiety pills are supposed to help with, but never seem to. Not something he wants to think about. He can just deal.

Sarah tugs at his hand and he looks down at her duck fluff hair, sticking up off her forehead because he’s still so damn bad at braiding. His mother had shown him how, weeks ago, the twist of her fingers nimble and quick. He thought he had it down, had even been proud of his work before they left the house that morning, even amidst the chaos. But looking down at his baby’s hair now, he thinks it looks clumsy, a little snarl of sunshine yellow.

She just smiles up at him with all her teeth, the gap between her two front teeth notwithstanding, pink little tongue poking through the hole, eyes crinkling up until he can’t see her irises anymore.

He snorts and a few people shoot him dirty looks, the teacher stuttering at the intrusion on her introduction. The pressure working around his ribs eases just a little. Who knew kindergarten orientation could be so intense?

Joel straightens up and squeezes Sarah’s hand back, his attention refocused on the middle aged woman at the front of the room. He nods, only half apologetic about it.

The rest of the morning he follows Sarah around the little classroom, weaving between the desks and other peoples’ kids. She’s excited for school for months, all summer, always asking the neighbor girl across the way about it, watching for the yellow of the school bus through the living room window each morning with a little sigh.

She’s smart, and Joel wants to dare to dream more for her, more for the both of them.

She’s a social little thing and Joel does his best not to feel intimidated by the other parents. It’s hard though, when he’s gotten asked three damn times if he’s her brother. Somehow, a twenty year sibling gap in age is easier to accept than Joel being her dad.

“Oh,” the ones that don’t know say. “Mama busy today then?”

Mom is out of the picture. Sarah is his.

Then, the inevitable, “Oh, you poor thing. Raising your girl all alone.”

Sarah holds onto his hand again when they leave, and even if he was miserable the entire time, he feels better about it. She talks the whole way home, from the backseat, big eyes watching his in the rearview mirror, crinkling up in that way he loves when she laughs. They stop for milkshakes on the way home, and her smile is covered in chocolate by the time they get home. He mirrors it back to her.

He feels better about the whole thing. The inexplicable knot of guilt in his chest has loosened. The first day of school would probably come with no tears or anxiety, but a smile and excitement. That neighbor girl across the way is already promising they can sit together on the bus.

Joel wants to drive her to school, but there’ll probably be mornings that wouldn’t be possible, not with the schedule he’s going to have to keep with the new job. He feels bad about that, too, because it means less time with her.

It’s terrible, another generation of Miller latchkey kids. He needs more time, but that’s the very thing he doesn’t have.

That’s okay, he tells himself, because Sarah will like it. She’ll like going to school and making friends. She’d see her grandmother in the afternoons, and her Uncle Tommy, too, if he really was close to having enough saved to get himself a truck. Tommy could pick her up after school sometimes, too, take her home and play babysitter for just a couple of hours.

It would be fine.

Sarah would love school. She’s already a smart kid, and too clever for her own good. She’s sociable and funny, friends would come easily to her like they do to Tommy. And hopefully those kids have better sense than their parents to say anything to Sarah about her mother.

Except that first day comes a week later and everything goes to hell.

And he has to wonder if everyone goes through this much grief about everything or if he’s just so goddamn unique. Just so goddamn bad at managing things. That morning is the spilled milk and cereal multiplied by a thousand.

Nothing goes right.

Not breakfast, because he opened the box of cereal and found only crumbs left in the bottom of the bag and he knew his dumbass brother ate the rest of it and that toast would not be good enough for Sarah, and, typical they were out of just about everything else.

Nothing goes right. Not rebraiding Sarah’s hair, because she insisted on sleeping with it in those messy little twists that he’s still yet to perfect.

Not getting dressed, because there was suddenly a glob of toothpaste in the middle of Sarah’s shirt which meant they had to pick something else out to wear and that was a whole ordeal, and he’s fairly sure not a single item of her clothing actually goes together.

He’s pretty damn sure they both look a mess. It would only take one look at them for everyone to know Joel is way in over his head, messing things up with her, doing bad job of it.

They can’t find her backpack, he has to pack her lunch last minute, he can’t find his goddamn keys.

But everything eventually turns up and then they’re both dressed in clothes that don't have toothpaste on them, breakfast in their bellies, and so they get out the door fine.

And then—

Joel very suddenly finds himself kneeling in his driveway with his daughter teary eyed and begging him not to make her go, and his heart snaps in half. Gravel digs into his knees, sweat drips hot down the back of his neck, but he stays there on the ground, eye level with his girl.

“I don’t wanna go without you,” she says, miserable about it. “You were there that other day we went.” It’s said like an accusation, like the beginning of an abandoning.

And he guesses that’s pretty much the center of it. They’ve never really been apart, and maybe it hadn’t been so clear school was something she had to take on on her own.

Her cheeks are bright pink with distress.

“It’s only durin’ the day, baby girl,” he says, thumbs sweeping away the tears that just keep on coming no matter how many times he pushes them away. “Uncle Tommy’ll be there to get ya after. And I’ll be home in the evening, same as always. Hey, take a breath.”

She sucks in a snotty lungful of air that hitches up in her chest and then slowly breathes it out. “But I want you to do it,” she says desolately. He cups her face, soothing away an impossible ache. “I want you to be there.”

Joel closes his eyes briefly, biting back the frustration that bubbles to the surface. He figures there’ll be lots of times like this in the future. Times where he won’t be able to be there, where he’ll have to come home late, miss dinner, miss little life events, miss things he should be there for.

Maybe he should get this first time right.

“All right. I can’t come with ya all day. It just ain’t allowed. But I’ll be there to pick ya up. Since it’s your first day n’all. Can’t be everyday, though, clear.”

She sniffles and Joel brushes a lock of her hair back, thinking that maybe his braids aren’t as bad as he thought. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“Promise?” Bottom lip trembling, another crack in Joel’s heart.

“I promise, baby. I’ll be there.” He tucks another loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Now, c’mon, we gotta get goin’. We’re already late.”

She giggles, tears drying in tacky streaks on her cheeks. “We’re always late, dad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, adjusting the twisted strap of her pink backpack, some kind of themed princess ordeal. “We’re always late and always a mess.”

He gets to his feet and takes her hand when she holds it out to him. They walk to the truck over the crunch of gravel in the driveway and Joel helps her into her carseat. She does up the buckles herself and he checks them before closing the door.

Sarah hums along to the oldies station on the radio and Joel thinks it's only half out of nervousness as she watches the familiarity of their neighborhood roll by.

Even though he could let her out at the curb, Joel parks and walks Sarah to the front door. He’s getting this part right, he knows it by the way she smiles up at him, in that funny way she has that makes him chuckle.

He stoops and presses a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll be here?” She asks one last time.

“Cross my heart.”

“Okay.”

“Have a good day, baby girl. You’ll do good.” She nods and straightens her tiny shoulders, flitting across the sidewalk to take her teacher's hand and be herded into the building along with the rest of that year’s class.

“Appreciate it now,” a mother next to him says. “In a couple years time she won’t want anythin’ to do with ya. Just be embarrassed.”

He knows it’s probably true. He still can’t picture it.

She turns and waves over her shoulder one last time before the door closes, and Joel thinks her braids look pretty damn good.

Thanks for reading if you got this far 💕 Would love to know what you think!

#tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel and sarah #joel miller #sarah miller

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jerzwriter · 1 year

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OK to the heartless demons who have asked why the “baby girl” scene in The Last of Us has destroyed me. (I’m being cheeky about heartless demons, but seriously, I’m flummoxed over this.)

This is the first time in Ellie’s life that she has someone who truly loves her. Someone who cares enough to risk their own life, they will gladly kill to protect her. And not because she is the potential golden child who holds the cure to the cordyceps infection, but because they LOVE HER. She means that much to them. They know that being forced to endure life without her would be a torture they’re not willing to accept.

The look in her eyes when David told her she has no father… the pain was palpable (God bless Bella Ramsey). We know she’s terrified of ending up alone. We know that everyone she has ever cared for has left her one way or another. She’s been alone her whole life and it’s the one thing she does not want to be.

She loves Joel, and he is one-hundred percent her father figure, but they’re both so guarded in protection of themselves. The pain and loss each has endured too profound to allow them to be vulnerable. But where Ellie has built an outer-layer to protect herself, Joel has built a fortress and fortified that fucker so no one can get in. We’ve been watching their defenses fall each week, but the last two episodes has shown us just how much they’re willing to do to save the other.

David’s sadistic words and demonic actions have put poor Ellie through living hell. Then she emerges into a cold, unfamiliar wilderness… alone. She’s lost and traumatized. This BADASS girl is as close to broken as we have ever seen her. Then, Joel appears, and until she realizes it is him, she is horrified.

Now, the look in Joel’s eyes (God bless Pedro Pascal). The horror, the pain, the guilt that he couldn’t protect her. Seeing her broken breaks him, but the relief at finding her. The man is overwhelmed, but instead of retreating, he gives in. He holds her, comforts her, he lets the feelings wash over him and she feels SAFE.

“It’s OK, baby girl. I got you.”

She’s loved and protected for the first time in her life. Joel has not uttered the words baby girl, nor experienced that level of affection since he lost Sarah twenty years before. He has surrendered. He loves her. She has surrendered, she’s accepting his love. Then, both wounded in every way, they stumble off to face the unknown together.

HOW ISN’T EVERYONE IN THE FETAL POSITION BAWLING? I should have had my therapist on speed dial.

#the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #joel and ellie #joel and sarah #episode 8 #i am shooketh #pedro pascal #bella ramsey

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mads-weasley · 1 year

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Everything

Joel Miller x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I absolutely LOVE the Last of Us and had to write something for Joel! I do not own any of the rights to these characters except (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: After a rough day, (y/n) shares a soft moment with her husband.

Warnings: mentions of road rage attack? total fluff central

September 25th, 2003: 24 Hours Before Outbreak

The bright Texan sun was shining down on (Y/n) Miller as she was on her way to the grocery store with Sarah in the passenger seat. With the windows down, they blasted their favorite new hit song, Red Dirt Road by Brooks & Dunn.

"Oh, I've come to know, there's life at both ends," the (y/h/c) woman sang, pretending to hold a mic to her lips.

Sarah stuck her hand out the window, her curls flying in the wind as she finished the lyric. "Of that red dirt road."

The pair were pulled from their jam session when the car in front of them slammed on brakes, causing (y/n) to do so as well, shooting an arm out in front of Sarah.

"You okay?" She asked breathlessly, holding back a curse at the driver. "And that's why you're not gonna tailgate people when you start driving, right?"

The teen rolled her eyes with a smile and put her hand over her heart. "Scout's honor."

Playfully scoffing, (y/n) looked around the car, only to see nothing in the way. Beeping the horn quickly, she groaned. "Seriously. What's the hold up here?"

Her question was answered when the driver quickly got out of the car and angrily stalked toward the pair. (Y/n) checked around her, looking for a way to get away quickly.

"Sarah," she whispered. "Roll up your window, now."

When the man was halfway to their car when he stopped and turned around. Her heart began to beat again.

She looked at Sarah with a shaky smile. "Okay, maybe he's over it."

The young girl's eyes widened as she frantically pointed in front of them. "(Y/n)!"

Snapping her eyes forward, she cursed at the sight of the man with a baseball bat.

"Hold on," (y/n) yelled, jerking into oncoming traffic to get away. Once they passed the man, she got back in their lane, hearts pounding. Had just a simple beep set the man off?

"What just happened?" Sarah asked, still gripping the handle above her car door.

Shaking away her fear, (y/n) reached over and took her hand gently

"I don't know, but we're okay. How about we just go home. I all of a sudden don't feel like going to the store."

A silent nod was all the response she needed to head back home. After the girls' scary ordeal, she just wanted to be in the safe presence of her husband.

At the familiar rumble of a truck engine, (y/n)'s heart jumped. She and Sarah were on the couch watching 10 Things I Hate About You when Joel opened the door.

"Girls?" He called, taking off his filthy work boots.

Sarah perked up, and yelled back, "In the living room!"

A few seconds later, he walked into the room with a tired smile, plopping down in the small space between them.

"And how are my girls doing today?" he asked, pulling them closer to him.

Sarah's eyes widened. "(Y/n) and I were on th-"

Not wanting to worry Joel, (y/n) shook her head quickly from behind him. The girl's brows furrowed slightly but caught on.

"-the way home and guess what song came on?" She asked.

"Hmm," he hummed, scrunching his face overdramatically. "Was it Red Dirt Road?"

"How did you know that!?" (Y/n) laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

"I don't know. Probably because it was the one you were humming when I first got over here, honey."

The trio broke into a fit of giggles that ended when Joel got up.

"Don't move. I'll be back in a minute."

As soon as Joel was out of the room, Sarah turned to (y/n). "Why can't we tell dad about earlier?"

"You know how worked up he gets, Sar," she sighed. "I just don't want to worry him."

"Okay. I won't tell him, but I think you should."

"I'll tell him la-"

She was cut off by Joel's voice calling from the hallway. "Who's ready for some supper?"

After they ate supper, Sarah went off to finish homework while (y/n) cleaned up. As she was reaching for dishes to put the leftovers in, a pair of hands snaked around her waist, pulling her back into a warm embrace.

"I missed you today," Joel murmured, his face buried in her neck.

"I missed you too, babe..."

A few seconds passed and she knew she needed to tell him what happened. Turning around in his arms, (y/n) placed her hands on his chest.

"So, something happened today. I don't want you to stress out or worry, bu-"

"Well, now I'm definitely gonna," he interrupted.

"Sar' and I were on the way to the grocery store when the guy in front of us stopped out of nowhere. I couldn't go around him because there was traffic, so I hit the horn. And then he got out of the car."

(Y/n) could feel his body tense up, and she was reminded why she wanted to spare him the details of the encounter.

"We thought he was going to get back into his car, but he pulled out a baseball bat, Joel. I didn't even think, I just got us out of there as soon as I could. Sarah was my number one priority and," she faltered, her throat closing up. "-and I was so scared."

He pulled her into his chest fully, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, (y/n/n). You should have called me."

Joel was shaking with anger, but contained it, knowing it would only make his wife more upset. "I know. I just didn't want to worry you."

"Worry me? Sweetheart, I am your husband, and you can tell me anything, no matter what."

(Y/n) sighed, pulling back with tears in her eyes. "I love you so much."

A single tear trickled down her face, and Joel wiped it away with his thumb as he cupped her cheek softly. "I love you, too. You and Sarah are everything to me."

Feeling his rough hands caress her face so gently, she placed hers over them. "Sarah's getting too big. I can't believe it's been almost two years since we tied the knot."

"Don't remind me," he whispered, rolling his eyes. "The sass gets worse every day."

His expression suddenly became serious. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen her this happy. Heck, I've never been this happy. You complete our family, (y/n)."

"I've never been this happy either."

She leaned in and rested her forehead against his before connecting their lips. Joel's hands on her waist pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss. At the sound of feet padding down the hallway, he pulled away with a groan.

"Don't stop on account of me," Sarah chimed with a smirk, grabbing a yogurt from the fridge." She started to turn back towards her room but stopped and pulled the couple into a tight hug.

"I am happier, dad. I love you both."

The man laughed, patting his daughter's hair affectionately. "We love you, too. Now, how long have you been listening, baby girl?"

Sarah held up her pointer finger, smiling sheepishly. "I'm gonna have to plead the fifth."

Pulling away, she glanced at the clock on the stove as she walked away. "You enjoy your last few hours as a 35-year-old, you old geezer."

Joel glanced at his wife with an amused smile. "Can you believe her?"

"I mean you are pretty old, Mr. Miller," (y/n) teased, shrugging her shoulders.

Before she could move, he threw her over his shoulder, running toward their room.

"Old, huh?"

The woman squealed, smacking playfully against his back. "Joel! Put me down!"

"No can do, Mrs. Miller."

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hollandwhore · 1 year

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he can’t keep getting away with this😭

#tlou #the mandalorian #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller #sarah miller #din djarin #grogu #joel and sarah #din and grogu #the mandadlorian #the mandalorian season 3 #pedro pascal

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lokischocolatefountain · 2 months

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Joel Miller Masterlist

Series

Men Like Me

Joel x virgin!Reader

Warning Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do girls like you only makes you want him more. Words: 6.2k Denial Summary: After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. Words: 10.4k

Mister Miller

Boyfriend's dad!Joel

Secret Summary: Your shameful secret you keep from your boyfriend is not such a secret after all. Your boyfriend’s dad Joel Miller knows what you do…very intimately. Words: 1.3k Picture Summary: Joel knows he shouldn’t, especially with the guilt of his shameful secret sitting heavy in his chest. But there are so many pictures of you and he is just a man. Words: 1k

Neighborly Thing to Do

Joel Miller x Reader x Javier Peña

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife. Simple rule to follow, you’d think. But it’s not so simple when your neighbor catches you coveting his girl, fucks her in front of you and tells you that you can help yourself to her anytime you want.

Yellow Bikini Summary: The new neighbors throw a pool party and Joel is invited. Words: 0.8k

Taken Care of

Predatory!Joel x Naive!Reader

You are as sheltered as can be in a world that has fallen apart. Realizing the errors of his ways, your father has his friend Joel take you outside the QZ to teach you how to survive in the real world. Unfortunately for you, Joel is interested in teaching you more than basic survival skills.

Comfort Summary: You and Joel find comfort in an unconventional way. Words: 1.8k

One-shot

Mercy

Summary: Stranded alone in the woods and left to die, all you can ask of Joel Miller is the mercy of a quick death. He is willing to give it to you, but he needs something for himself first. Words: 2.8k

Hurt and Protect

Summary: In a world where politeness wasn’t part of trade, it helped to have someone like Joel Miller as your protector. But to be his to protect also meant being his to hurt. Words: 2.3k

Our Normal

Summary: You and Joel find a new normal with touch Words: 1.8k

Purpose

Dad!Joel Miller

Summary: “I think if he (Joel) could do anything or be anything, he would be a dad, raising his daughter. Whether it’s Sarah or— he can’t quite get there yet to say it’s Ellie but that's what he was put on this Earth to do. That’s why he’s been wandering around a little like a zombie himself for 20 years. He’s trying to find his purpose because it was taken from him.” -Craig Mazin. A fic exploring Joel's journey as a dad. Words: 12.7k

not to feel the way i felt—

Joel Miller x Tess Servopolous

Summary: “I never ask you for anything, not to feel the way I felt—” Moments in their lives where Joel felt something, if not they way she felt. Words: 3.9k

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meetmypointlessaddiction · 7 months

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Joel Miller x f!reader: We Have Each Other

Summary: You and Joel haven't been together as much lately and you're feeling a little insecure. Warnings: Little angsty but is happy at the end, Joel being a softie, tears (?), reassurance from Joel Please let me know if I missed anything! Was feeling a lil bit inspired so came up with this. This had not been proof read so any mistakes are completely my own. Enjoy and don't forget to like and reblog so that the algorithm can do its thing. Words: 1,0k

You and Joel had been together for a while, meeting him when you quite literally bumped into him in a café. Joel had never given you any reason to feel insecure in your relationship and was always complementing, reassuring and praising you. However, after a few late nights at work for the two of you, that meant not seeing Joel as much which seemed to have worn down your self-confidence.

You had helped raise Sarah since you moved in when she was just six years old and Joel never denied how much of a mother figure you were to her, him being the one to reassure you after she had called you mom one night before bed. But after barely seeing the girl or Joel, you almost felt as if you had drifted from the pair.

You cut the engine of your car and unlocked the front door to the house, taking off your shoes before heading to the kitchen to get dinner started. What you had failed to notice was Joel’s truck on the curb and his muddy workboots sitting on a newspaper at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, pretty girl.” He called from the stove and your head snapped up, lips turning up in a forced smile.

“Hi, Joel.” You could see the colour drain from his face and a gasp come from the eleven year old sitting at the counter. “What?” You asked, confused and Sarah just laughed.

“You used his government name. You never call him that.” She stood from her seat and held her hands up. “I’m gonna leave you guys to it.” She said, leaving and Joel walked towards you.

“Have I done something wrong, darlin’?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No, baby. No you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just tired that’s all, slipped my mind. What’re you making?” You asked, letting him wrap his arms around your waist.

“Sarah wanted homemade pizzas but we can have somethin’ different if you’re not feelin’ it.” He offered but you shook your head.

“Pizza sounds good. I’m going to get a shower and change.” You told him, letting him kiss your cheek before walking up the stairs and heading towards your shared bedroom.

The hot water hit your neck as you rested your forehead against the cool tiles, trying to will the stress of your week away. Within five minutes of trying to let yourself relax, tears began cascading down your cheeks and you couldn’t hold back the sobs that erupted from your throat.

Your mind began to wander as you thought about all the possible reasons why you had become so detached to your little family. From there it only got worse.

If you and Joel split up, you would be alone. Joel’s family was your family and without them you’d have nothing. He’d have Sarah and Tommy and you’d be left all alone. A knock on the bathroom door broke you out of your thoughts. “Sweetheart? Everythin’ ok in there?” You couldn’t find the words to answer him and the door gently creaked open, your hands automatically coming up to shield your body and the frown reappeared on Joel’s face.

“Have I upset you honey? Ain’t no other reason to be hidin’ from me.” He walked closer towards you with a towel and opened the door, reaching in to turn off the water. “Come on doll, let’s get you dried.” He seemed to have noticed the redness and puffiness of your eyes because his frown deepened, if that was even possible.

“I’m ok, just tired.” You muttered but Joel shook his head, gently drying you off with a towel and pressing gentle kisses along your cheek.

“I think you’re a little more than just tired honey. And that’s ok.” He finished drying you off and helped you into a fresh set of pyjamas before sitting you on the edge of the bed. “Give me two seconds.” He walked back into the bathroom and returned with some of your skin care products and the hairbrush and a hair tie.

He sat behind you and worked his way through your hair, getting all of the tangles out before putting it into a loose braid and pulling you back to lean against his chest. “Can’t believe you’re all mine. Can’t believe I get to be yours.” He whispered in your ear, his hands settling on your lower abdomen. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged and he nodded, ready for you to talk whenever you felt like it. Time passed by and Joel just let you lay there, content to have his heart beat thrumming a steady tune against the back of your head. “Just feeling a little down, that’s all.” You admitted and Joel nodded, giving you the freedom to continue talking if you wished. “I just missed thisl.”

“I know you feel like wanting all this makes you some kind of ‘needy’ partner but I need you to promise me you’ll tell me before it gets to this point. Even if you have to wake me up in the middle of the night so I can tell you how pretty you are or how beautiful you look.” He promised and you smiled slightly, still not feeling great.

“You ever wonder what would happen if we split up?” You asked and Joel tensed.

“Well I was under the impression that we were quite stable in our relationship so no I can’t say I do think about it. Why? Should I be worried?” He asked and you were quick to turn around and shake your head, hands resting on his arms.

“No! Joel I promise it isn’t that I’m thinking- I don’t want to break up with you and I love you. I just keep overthinking things and I realised that if we broke up, I'd have no one. I mean you have Tommy and Sarah but I’d have no one. You are my family so if I lost you, I’d be alone.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes once more. Joel seemed to think over your statement for a few moments before he sighed and lifted you gently so that you were sitting facing him on the bed. “You gotta listen to me now honey, ok? Ain’t no part of me that’s lettin’ go of you that easily. You mean too much to the three of us to just let you go that easily. Don’t you ever say that you don’t got anybody because I can promise that you will always have me. We have each other.”

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tightjeansjavi · 9 months

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♡ Barbie Girl ♡ | AU!Joel Miller x f! Reader

A/N: this was such a fun lil idea to pursue and I love the idea of Joel wearing pink just cause he knows how happy it makes Sarah ♡

~word count: 1.5k~

Summary: Joel, Sarah and Tommy go to the Barbie movie opening weekend

Warnings: none, lots of fluff, Joel is a feminist icon, soft dad vibes, Joel is a girl dad himbo, he’ll do anything to make his kid happy, Sarah is an icon on her own, Tommy is Tommy of course but he’s so himbo too, AU that takes place in 2023, Joel is a progressive dad, Sarah loves him for it, little bit of flirting with Joel and the reader, no age gap, some spoilers for the Barbie movie! (+18 for language) minors dni.

July 2023, Austin Texas

Joel Miller never would consider himself to be a ‘girl dad’ as the younger generation would refer to him as. He had to literally look up what the word ‘DILF’ meant when Sarah told him one day after school that all of the moms thought he was attractive. He had Google on speed dial just so he could feel like he was ‘hip’ again. 36 years old and he felt older than ever. Sarah was a big help of course and steered her dad in the right direction political wise. Her dad was a good man of course, but nothing made her happier than when she had his full support as a young woman. Before the Barbie movie came out, Joel and Sarah spent every weekend volunteering at a local women’s shelter. The bumper of his truck was decorated with women-empowering stickers including a sticker that said, ‘Abortion is Healthcare’ and ‘Women’s Rights Are Human Rights.’ He didn’t stop there of course. He also had a BLM sticker, ‘Dismantle White Supremacy’, ‘Eat The Rich’ and he still had a Bernie sticker front and center.

The weekend that the Barbie movie came out, Joel had already pre ordered tickets for him, Sarah and Tommy as well who had multiple pink shirts for Joel to choose from. Sarah had insisted that they all had to wear pink and Joel would do just about anything to make his baby girl happy.

“Are ya sure your old man doesn’t look silly in this?” Joel gestured to his hot pink tee-shirt with a soft huff as he observed his appearance in the mirror.

“Dad, why do you think you look silly? Pink is totally your color!” Sarah responded with a genuine smile as she playfully placed the Barbie baseball cap on his mess of brown curls. “Do you or do you not feel Bonita?”

Joel stifled a chuckle, shaking his head as he fixed the cap on his head. “I feel Bonita.”

The drive to the movie theater consisted of listening to a Barbie inspired Spotify playlist off of Sarah’s phone. Joel and Tommy proudly knew every word to the Barbie Girl song of course. Once they arrived to the theater, Joel was awe-struck at the amount of people who were dressed in pink and he felt less self-conscious about his hot pink shirt when he saw numerous guys and dads wearing pink shirts as well.

At first he was confused when a group of women around his age said, “Hi Ken” to him and Tommy, and “Hi Barbie” to Sarah who immediately responded with a wave and, “Hi Barbie!” She gently nudged her dad with her elbow as he stood there blinking, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Dad, you gotta say hi Barbie! Back.”

“Oh. OH! Shit, sorry sweet pea.” He cleared his throat under his breath before he raised his hand with a sheepish smile. “Hi Barbie!” He was looking right at you out of all of your friends. You were dressed head to toe in pink and you mirrored the same sheepish smile that he did. Joel turned to his daughter afterwards, cheeks feeling inflamed. “Did I do alright? So, I say that everytime someone says hi Ken?”

“You did great, dad! Yeah, so everytime a Barbie says, ‘hi Ken!’ You say, ‘hi Barbie!’, and when a Ken says, ‘hi Ken!’ You say, ‘hi Ken!’”

“Yeah, brother. It ain’t that hard.” Tommy chimed in and wrapped his arm around Joel’s shoulders and gave them a light squeeze.

“Shuddup Tommy.” Joel grumbled under his breath.

Your friends from your college days insisted that you join them to go see the new Barbie movie. At first you were against the idea until you read reviews and once you saw it was a movie that empowered women, you were all in. It was your idea in the end to dress head to toe in pink and you and your friends each had a comfort Barbie in your purses as well.

When you saw Joel Miller across the way looking confused as all hell when your friends said ‘hi Ken!’ You thought he was adorable for two reasons. One being he clearly was wearing pink to support his daughter and two, he looked proud of himself after saying ‘hi Barbie!’ To you and your friends.

“Now, that’s a real man if I’ve ever seen one!” Your one friend, Jessica excitedly whispered to the group as if she was back in her highschool days in the passing period hallways.

“Okay, but his brother? Jesus Christ, if I wasn’t married I would be all over that!” Avery chimed in with a giggle.

“How do you know that they’re brothers? They could be two dads taking their daughter to the movies.” You responded with a shrug as you pulled up the tickets on your phone.

“Nah, they look related and besides, the one with the baseball cap was looking right at you babe!” Jaimie commented with a small grin as she nudged your side gently.

“No, he wasn’t.” You responded with a light laugh and shake of your head.

“Girl, he looked like a blubbering fish when he saw you.” Your friends all affirmed.

Your friends were right on the money with that one. Joel Miller was doing his absolute best to check you out in the most respectful way he could while he was in the line for popcorn. Sarah of course caught the way her dad was looking at you, and she was determined to get him to muster up the courage to talk to you after the movie.

The movie was everything Sarah had imagined it to be. She laughed, she cried and Joel and Tommy had teared up during some of the scenes. Especially when Barbie and Ken travel to the real world and the first thing she experiences is being cat-called and objectified by men. The patriarchy was alive and well outside of Barbie land and as a straight, white man, Joel recognized that he and Tommy had an easy life compared to their female counterparts. This didn’t mean that they agreed with it. In fact, Joel and Tommy were fully against the patriarchal system.

Sarah found herself hugging her dad tightly as the credits rolled and he was gently smoothing down her curls and kissing the top of her head. Sometimes Joel felt guilty over the fact that Sarah no longer had a mother figure in her life, but it was moments like these that reminded him that he was just a dad doing his best for his kid who he loved so dearly. “I love you so much, baby girl. I’ll always fight for you. Okay, kiddo?” He whispered softly with his lips against her temple.

Sarah hugged him tighter. “I love you so much dad. Thank you for always being there for me.”

Tommy was tearing up again.

The three Millers took a selfie with the Barbie poster just outside the movie theater with their faces squished into the frame. The picture was being taken while you were standing outside of the women’s bathroom waiting for your friends. You watched as Joel struggled to get his phone at the right angle, so you took it upon yourself to go over and help. “Hi Kens, hi Barbie! Would you guys like me to take a picture of you?”

Joel already felt his cheeks begin to heat up. “Hi Barbie. That would be great if ya could. Can never get these damn angles right with this thing. I uh—I like your outfit. It’s very Barbie.” He commented softly.

“Thanks, Ken. I really like your baseball cap.” You responded with a genuine smile as he handed you his phone. You took a few steps back so that all three Miller’s would be in the frame. You took a few photos before handing him his phone back just as your friends were departing from the bathroom.

“Hey, Barbie? Before you go, my dad is way too shy to say it but he thinks you’re super duper pretty.” Sarah proclaimed without skipping a beat.

Joel was beet red now as he scrubbed a hand down his face, fingertips scraping across his beard. “Sarah! You can’t just—” He sighed with a nervous smile. “Okay, it’s true Barbie. I do think you’re super duper pretty. Cats out of the bag thanks to my daughter.” He gave Sarah a playful warning look and mussed up her curls.

“Well Ken, it’s your lucky day because I think you’re really handsome. Do you wanna see Oppenheimer with me next weekend?”

“I would absolutely love to go see Oppenheimer with you next weekend Barbie.” Joel didn’t hesitate to respond.

“It’s a date. See you next weekend, Ken.” You exchanged phone numbers before you made your way over to your friends who were waiting for you.

“This Barbie has a date next weekend!” You told your friends the good news and they all excitedly cheered for you.

As soon as Joel and Sarah got home, Sarah dug out her old box of Barbie’s and brought them down to the living room, while Joel had found all of the Barbie DVD’s that Sarah insisted he keep. They spent the rest of the evening playing with her Barbie’s and watching the Princess and the Pauper; Sarah’s all time favorite Barbie movie.

Tag list: @chaotic-mystery @saradika @cavillscurls @thetriumphantpanda @sinsofsummers @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @last-girl @tessa-quayle (you will love this one)

Creator divider made by @saradika

Barbie divider made by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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janaispunk · 4 months

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it’s the season

part of the space sisters secret santa 2023 - for @pascalispretty, merry christmas sophie! 🫶🏻

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: ~ 1.8k

summary: Joel had promised his daughters that they would bake Christmas cookies this weekend - which turns out to be more complicated than he had anticipated. Fortunately, their new neighbor next door can help.

tags: AU! no outbreak, Joel has both of his daughters, FLUFF, hints at reader’s sad backstory but nothing specific, mentions of alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed something <3

dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

full masterlist here

follow @janaispunknotifs and turn on notifications for fic updates

shoutout to @reddedmiller for holding my hand while writing this and convincing me that it’s not trash, i love you bby <3

It’s Sunday, one week until Christmas, and Joel Miller is beginning to lose his mind.

His daughters had been bugging him about baking Christmas cookies with them for weeks, and he wants nothing more than to make them happy, but while Joel is many things, he’s certainly not a baker.

Work has been hectic lately, which apparently led to him forgetting to buy the ingredients that the girls swear up and down they had requested several times.

He’s had to sent Sarah to ask one of their neighbors to lend them something twice now and by the looks of it, he’s gonna have to do it a third time. She groans and insists to take Ellie with her this time, complaining about how this is “sooooo embarrassing, Dad!”

You furrow your brow when your doorbell rings for the third time in half an hour, a slightly disbelieving look on your face when you open the door and once again reveal the young girl from next door standing on your porch, this time accompanied by who you think is her younger sister.

You only moved into the house a month ago and don’t really know any of your neighbors, except for the elderly couple that lives a few houses over. They had introduced themselves hours after you moved in and have tried to invite you to come to Sunday church with them several times, an invitation that you consistently decline.

You know the girls though, you often see them through your windows, constantly pestering their father, who constantly fends them off in a kind of gruffy but clearly loving manner.

The girl who had introduced herself as “Sarah” when she first came by thirty minutes ago to ask for baking powder smiles at you apologetically.

“Hi… again. I’m so sorry, do you by any chance have cinnamon as well?”

You can't help but laugh this time. “What are you guys even doing over there? I think I do, why don’t you come in while I go check?” They nod and follow you into your kitchen where you start digging through your supply of baking ingredients.

“Our Dad said he’d bake Christmas cookies with us today, but he forgot to get the groceries for it,” the other girl explains. “I’m Ellie, by the way.” You smile and tell her your name, then hand over the cinnamon to them.

“That’s very sweet of your Dad,” you remark, “I’m sure he’s trying his best.”

Ellie’s eyes fly over your neatly organized collection of ingredients and baking utensils, then her face lights up with an idea.

“Hey! You look like you’re a good baker and our Dad is really struggling to be honest. Do you want to come over and join us?”

“Ellie,” Sarah argues, “you can’t just invite people like that, I’m sure she has plans already.”

You don’t, to be fair, but you’ve never spoken to their father before, who’s rather giving the impression that he likes to keep to himself.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude…” you begin, when Sarah looks around herself and notices that you don’t have any Christmas decorations up around your house.

“Or do you not celebrate Christmas?” she asks, “You obviously don’t have to come if that’s not…”

Your heart warms at how considerate the young girl is trying to be. “No I do, I just didn’t…” you trail off, not sure how to explain that it feels pointless putting up decorations just for yourself and that you don’t want the reminders that it will be the first Christmas in your life that you’ll be spending completely alone. You shake your head and plaster a smile on your face. You do like baking and maybe this will help getting you into the spirit.

“You know what? Okay, if it’s alright with your Dad, I’ll come over and see how I can help.”

Both girls beam at you and you follow them over to their house, where you find their Dad elbows deep in a mixing bowl with dough sticking to his fingers and swearing to himself under his breath. You feel awkward and definitely like an intruder but the girls’ mouths are going a mile a minute, explaining how you had soooo many baking supplies and that you had agreed to help them.

Their Dad introduces himself as “Joel” and you feel your cheeks heating when you notice how attractive he is up close. You had already thought that when you’ve seen him from afar, but now that you’re standing in his kitchen, it really hits you. Trying to snap out of it, you take a closer look at the dough that he’s fighting with.

“This needs more flour, then it’ll be less sticky,” you mutter, suddenly feeling a bit shy, and go to add it to the mix in his bowl. He huffs a “Thanks” and you smile, still fighting the heat in your cheeks but also feeling excitement buzz through you as your hand brushes against his when you pull back.

The girls kick back into action then, throwing several recipes at you that they want to try and you do your best to coordinate it all, running back to your place for ingredients several times, accompanied by an apologetic look from Joel every time, but you honestly don’t mind. His daughters are adorable and you’re having more fun than you’ve had in months.

Sarah turns on the radio and Christmas songs sound through the kitchen. With the music in your ear and the smell of freshly baked cookies in your nose, you feel at ease, comfortable.

When all the cookies are baked and thoroughly taste tested, the girls retreat to their rooms on the upper floor, leaving you and Joel alone in the kitchen. You find that you don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back to that big empty house where it’s just you, not now that you’ve basked in the warmth of this family home right next to yours all day. And just maybe, you want to spend more time with Joel.

“I have a bottle of pretty good red wine, shall I go and bring that? Half of my kitchen’s contents are here already” you joke and Joel laughs.

“I’m sorry about that, I’m usually better prepared, but work’s been crazy these weeks and the girls insisted on baking today, so…” He scratches his neck and you smile at him.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve had a great time today. Finally got me into the holiday spirit a bit, I kinda really needed that.”

You walk over and take the wine bottle back to his place where you sit down in the living room, the Christmas tree that has been mostly decorated by the girls shining in the corner and the several strings of fairy lights that Sarah has spread all over the room glowing around you.

You feel a warmth and comfort that you haven’t felt in a long time, but also a kind of envy for this feeling of family, of how clearly this man and the two girls belong together, how their house is basically imbued with love for each other. A feeling that you’re not sure you’ve ever had, but that you suddenly find yourself desperately longing for.

“So…” Joel begins, a faint expression of uncertainty on his face. “Is it just you over there, or…?” You understand what he’s asking and nod, a wry smile playing around your lips.

“Yeah, it’s- it’s a bit of a long story, really, but yes, it’s just me.” The understanding is clear on his face and he doesn’t push you, sensing that you don’t want to expand on the subject and you’re grateful.

You still talk about both of your pasts, where you grew up, where you went to school, learning that Joel lost his parents when he was young, only two years after he had Sarah, how it had been just the both of them in the beginning, with the addition of his younger brother whom he speaks of with the loving kind of exasperation that only an older sibling can muster up, and how he adopted Ellie a few years later.

You finish the bottle quicker than you would like to, and when Joel walks you home and you’re both stood in front of your door, you’re drunk on more than the red wine, a happiness in your veins that warms you from within.

Joel clears his throat, his eyes trained on your face.

“Listen, I don’t want ya to feel pressured or nothin’, but would you want to come over for Christmas Eve? ‘S just me an’ the girls, nothin’ fancy, just-“ he shrugs, his hands buried in his pockets, “don’t like the thought of you alone in this house on Christmas.”

It might be embarrassing how quickly you say “yes”, but you can’t bring yourself to feel that way. A smile stretches across Joel’s face as he tells you “good night” and kisses your cheek before you step into your house and watch him walk back to his.

Christmas at the Miller household is one of the best evenings that you’ve ever had. Sarah and Ellie have gone all out on the decorations now that they have a guest, leaving twinkling lights, glitter and ornaments in every corner and on every surface, Joel makes a surprisingly good dinner, you’re playing board games with the girls that dissolve into fights between them most of the time, everyone is talking over each other and you’re all eating chocolate until you’re sick with the sugar high.

Late in the evening, with both of the girls softly snoring on the couch, tangled up in each other like two overly large kittens, Joel and you are sharing another bottle of wine. You feel so full of happiness that you feel like you might burst, a smile on your face that feels like it’s never gonna leave again.

When it’s time for you to go home, Joel stands with you and walks with you to his front door. “Thank you again, for inviting me,” you smile at him, “this was probably the best Christmas Eve that I’ve ever had.”

He nods, his gaze dancing between your eyes and your lips.

“Merry Christmas,” you murmur, butterflies erupting in your stomach. He leans in and you hesitantly do the same. Before you can overthink it, you cradle his face in your hands and pull him towards you, your lips meeting in a soft kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers against your lips.

i hope you liked this!!! merry christmas and happy holidays 🫶🏻

#space sisters secret santa 2023 #janas fics #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel and sarah #joel and ellie #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fluff

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softlyspector · 3 months

Text

choices

Summary: Joel is dying. He reflects on the choices he made.

Word count: ~2.2k

Relationship(s): Joel & Sarah, Joel & Ellie, Joel & Tommy

Warnings: spoilers for tlou part 2, a whole lot of grief and love, descriptions of violence and injuries and death, confusion, trauma, written in like two hours and edited only lightly, not my usual writing style

A/N: Hello, remember when just this morning I said no golf on this page? I lied a little bit. We're going golfing in this one, but I think the fact that I can write about this without having a breakdown means the big ball of grief in my chest is easing just a little. Maybe that's silly, considering he is Not Real. But it is what it is. I don't expect many of you to read this lil fic but if you do, know I love you and appreciate you. I would love to hear anything you have to say. Thank you for reading <3

“What if she’s still alive, Tommy?”

Tommy’s head snaps in his brother’s direction, Joel still waiting to receive medical attention.

It's warm. The weather is nice. He can hear crickets chirping in the grass. Feels like a fucking crime.

Pandamonium, everywhere, still, in the triage center; but between the two of them it’s quiet, the whole world far away. It has to be, with Sarah’s blood still on his hands, the feeling of her little hands clawing at his bicep still wasping over his skin.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about, Joel?”

“S—” Her name gets caught up in his throat, wads up against the back of his tongue and sticks it to the roof of his mouth. That first letter is sour and anxious, a bitter candy in the maw of his grief.

Daughter, child, baby.

His baby, warm in his arms, her blood threading through his fingers, life draining away.

All he could do was watch and watch and try to stop that horrible red.

He had looked away for one second, and she’d left. Gone.

Two days ago, her body cooled in his arms. Two days ago, he had to close her eyes forever with trembling fingers. He hadn’t been able to look into them again, and would forever be missing that color, trying to remember it, match it to some shade that would never be right, never be her.

“Sarah,” he manages and clears his throat.

Tommy is the one that wants him to get looked at. Because Joel can’t tell if something is wrong or not, from running and falling and being shot at. He doesn’t feel fucking anything, just numbness, just the pull of his skin too tight against his organs and bones. Just a pulsing dark hole, raw and torn at the edges.

Part of him got ripped out when she—

Where had he put it all before, he wonders, all that love? His body isn’t big enough for it. And it certainly ain’t big enough for this much grief.

“What if she was still alive? When we buried her. I want to check.”

Grief.

It will bend over backwards just to look you in the eyes. Denial of its gaze will break even the best of them.

Joel looks away, sees a daughter that might claw free of the fate she suffered.

The memories are sunbursts behind his eyes, blinding and impossible to look at, but not something he could ever forget. Cradling her to his chest, can’t leave her behind, bury her at least, put her bones to rest, but what if she’s alive? Are they sure she was dead? Maybe she’d just passed out?

Tommy shifts, looks away, across the emergency tents and the families still hoping to find a loved one, everyone wondering what the fuck was going on as night falls again, another day in this new world. Forever changed.

He doesn’t need his brother to say it, that she isn’t alive, that Joel had held her and felt for a pulse for hours afterwards, intermittently pressing fingers to neck just to be sure. He doesn’t need Tommy to tell him that even if she had been, they’d buried her two days ago, and she certainly was now.

A wave of grief pulses through his chest again. That’s the only time the numbness abates, just those little moments where love washed away too soon, overpowers.

“Joel—”

Joel isn’t listening. He’s thinking of blue eyes opening six feet under the ground, inhaling dirt, panicking, confused about how she ended up there, suffocating, and Joel had been the one to put her there.

A new wave of emotion passes over Tommy’s face.

“She was gone.” His hand lands on his shoulder.

Little brother who he’d always looked out for and played third parent to, or maybe he was just the second.

“You’re right,” Joel nods, his throat constricts again, glassy pearl of grief swelling against his skin until it feels like it might burst. “I know.” His voice cracks right up the middle.

Joel still hasn’t washed her blood from his fingers, it feels like the last moment of loss, the very last thing he can hold onto.

He still believes in the world, then. That he can hold onto for a second.

And then, him and Tommy are at the border to a quarantine zone a few days after that. Joel still has his kid’s blood staining his t-shirt. Someone checked him out at the triage center, and wiped away the blood before he could stop them, told him he sprained his shoulder.

How did that happen? And did it matter, if he couldn’t feel it at all? He doesn’t feel pain or hunger or anything else, just wave after wave of grief. He doesn’t even feel angry.

But then they’re there, truck confiscated, in the processing center to the Austin QZ, with backpacks and the clothes on their back and a promise that they’d be able to get a letter to his mother when he is waved in and Tommy is not.

Then, the anger sets in and the world changes in his mind and he sees it for what it has become. The thing that took Sarah and wrought hell and wanted to take more.

It would not happen again.

He argues with the officers and gets angry, the kind of angry that used to follow him before Sarah arrived and mellowed him out. They won’t hear sense, even though taking Tommy would be the same as taking Joel. They have most of the same skills. His brother is better than him, anyhow.

But maybe that’s the problem. Similar skills and one with ideals.

“It’s all right, Joel, I’ll figure somethin’ else out. I’ll head to Arlington.” He never would have let that happen, not then, not at that moment, but if he had, he knows he never would have seen Tommy again.

He’s on the knife’s edge of being restrained when he walks back through the gate to his brother’s side.

It’s a relief.

Not again.

They never find their mother; they never get to send a letter.

He makes the choice for them, even though Tommy tells him to go on. “They wouldn’t have me now, anyhow. We’re better off this way.”

Joel doesn’t hear any arguments and eventually Tommy stops trying.

It’s the same kind of change that would bloom dangerous and righteous in St. Mary’s twenty odd years later. The same kind of relief when he finally finished his terrible task, choice made, crisis averted, for the time being.

Tommy came to resent Joel for the choices he tried to make for both of them, so it’s no wonder Ellie would one day, too.

When Joel dies, when he’s dying, when he’s being beaten to death, and his mind finally parts from his body and the pain fades—he thinks of that moment, Tommy staring at him through that fence.

He thinks of Sarah, her tiny frame in his arms, the way she was so small when she died and when she was born. So fragile against his chest, baby hair like yellow fluff, both times.

He thinks of Ellie, smiling at him, fearlessly leaping from great heights and scaring him half to death, thinks of dinners together before everything went to hell, thinks of hats on dinosaurs, books about space read aloud, the desperate clawing, asking to stay close when he could feel her slipping away.

He thinks of Tess, how she wanted to lie low and take a break, after. He thinks of that bite on her neck and the sprawl of her broken body on a chilled marble floor.

Joel never got enough time with anyone.

Reviled, always, for what he would do for them.

And still he would do it again and again and again.

The nine iron comes down on his shoulder, the reverberation of it echoing through his body, the vast cavernous, cancerous space of it. Pinging off ribs and around the blackened, singed accordion of his lungs, sluggishly billowing open and closed, like the end of a song he never knew how to sing.

What kind of hell did he end up in? Inflicted with a beating he can no longer feel; slow; the end long overdue.

A merciful one, maybe.

A deserved one, maybe.

But it is the end.

Violent, like it should be. Like it had been for so many others. The way he had made it for so many others.

Sarah, bleeding in his arms. Her eyes blank and unseeing and the fear that he had buried his blood before her time, that somewhere in the earth she still writhed. Undeniable, then, that it was his fault.

Ellie, machete raised above her head, bringing it down, over and over, blood on her face and then crying in his arms. He would never be able to say what he said to her then to soothe her, his skin frozen cold against hers, sweaty and tacky with fear and adrenaline.

The fire had felt much hotter than it was against the cold, her body fitted into the cradle of his. She was so little against him. Just a kid. He would be, and was, sorry about that for the rest of his life. What she had endured alone, that she had had to save him.

Again.

The point of no return, a fate sealed in blood.

Tried to deny it, even after he decided to take her to the university. Muttered promises he had to fulfill, or else.

Or else, he’d lose what little of his soul he might have left.

Well, I’m not leaving here without you.

With Sarah’s picture in his pocket, he had kept that promise.

He cracks an eye open, and there she is.

Maybe he should wonder why she’s there, be afraid that she is. But all he is, is glad.

See you around.

A promise to try her hand at forgiving him, and here she is, trying.

Ellie's voice.

He wishes he could hear her. She’s looking at him, and that’s fine. He misses her and wishes he would have said that.

Joel blinks, once, slowly, the image of her flickers. The little girl that hadn’t wanted to go anywhere with him, had wanted to stay with her friend Marlene, the leader of the Fireflies. He sees the child Tess had looked him in the eye over and said look, I get it and nothing else, because what else was there to say? Tess knew about Sarah, and Tess knew him.

Terribly transparent, a horrific liar.

He feels the weight of her in his arms through the thin cotton of that hospital gown and then the warm press of her palms shoving him away. All the heaviness of his sins, the break of teeth against untruth, the hard skin of lies. He hears the wracking sobs, the betrayal. A flare of real pain accompanies it, washes cold like a wave across a shore.

And still, he’d do it again.

If he had to, and even if he didn’t. Because it matters. Ellie matters.

The pit of love inside him, that saving, healing, mellowing thing that shouted in colors of grief and made him smile again, play the guitar again and sing again, that made him miss in a way that stung a little less.

Her grave, without a marker.

Dirt on a little body that they couldn’t even put in a pine box. Tommy crying, Joel silent. He’d done his howling.

When Ellie pushed him away, held him at arms length and decided she hated him for the choice he made for her, even if no one was going to have one either way, there hadn’t been howling, either.

There was nothing to mourn after all.

She lives, she breathes. She is safe and has other people to support her.

He wondered, after, when they got back to Jackson and she stopped talking to him, if all that love had only ever gone one way, choked in an artery that spilled out onto the wrong avenue, like everything inside him had been built backward.

Maybe she stopped caring about him, but there had been love there once, and that’s all someone like him could ever hope for.

Just a split second, of being enough, of being the right thing at the right time and making the right decision in the right way.

He sees the decisions lined up, like glass bottles on a wall, like he was a kid with a BB gun. Sarah and Tommy and Tess and Ellie. Maybe if he’d done one thing different or everything different, things would have ended up different and better.

Maybe they would have all gotten to make the choices they really deserve.

He blinks again and the little girl is gone, replaced with the woman she grew into. The one he’s proud of and keeps tabs on, because that’s his kid and that’s what a parent does.

There are tears, and he can hear her a little. Her voice is breaking. He wants to tell her it’s okay.

That’s what he does, tries to do anyway, make sure everyone and everything is okay. He did that, too, even when she didn’t know it. Made sure she came home and got enough and listened with pride when people said she was doing well.

But this is the end and the executioner’s blade is raised high.

Joel twitches, reaching, fingers curling, wants to say it, but he can’t. His own blood pools cold and sticky beneath his head.

He's tired.

He’s sorry that she has to see.

Sorry that it takes him so long to die.

He doesn't regret anything.

He would do it all over again.