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ultraviolencer23 · 18 days ago

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nsfw 18+⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ minors dni!

pairing : older!joel x inexperienced!fem!reader

warnings : smut, established relationship, praise, use of pet names (darlin’, baby, good girl), inexperienced reader, fingering, unprotected p in v, jackson!joel, shy/nervous reader, fluffy, it’s implied that joel & reader are fairly new in jackson (having travelled together), joel has a filthy mouth and talks SO MUCH, appearance from tommy at the end, this is literally 3.7k words of pure pornography im sorry

summary : joel was your first. your relationship has blossomed since then but you’re still inexperienced and he is certain to let you experience everything when it comes to intimacy although you still may be nervous to try new things.

an : ik this account has been exclusively cod characters but i’ve wanted to write for joel for soo long. kinda wanna rebrand and start writing again!!!!

“c’mere,” he murmured, holding his arms out to you, effectively compelling you into his lap. you straddled his thighs and looked down at his lustful gaze, feeling your chest tighten at the sight.

he didn’t seem to care about the fight he’d just had with tommy; you hadn’t even remembered what it was about this time, but what you did remember was tommy storming out of his own house, calling joel a “fuckin’ asshole” and leaving you and him in tommy’s living room like this.

you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and play with the hem of his t-shirt. you hear him sigh above you and lean back against the sofa, instinctively resting his hands on the small of your back as nosed at the side of your neck.

“you smell real good from that soap they let us use,” he murmured, his gruff voice in your ear.

you smile a little, “i do?”

“mmh,” he hummed, his hands reaching to fidget with the ends of your hair, “don’t know about you, darlin’, but i could get used to this life o’ luxury.” he leans down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck, inhaling as he does.

the flesh on the back of your neck erupts in a shiver, feeling his breath fan over you as he exhales. you stay there, on his shoulder, wanting him to continue; he does. he paves a line of light kisses down to your shoulder as he pulls the neckline of your shirt to the side. a gentle hand runs under your shirt and over the skin of your back. he grins into your skin as he hears you exhale a sigh - a happy sigh - beside his ear.

joel shifts you in his lap, bringing you closer to where his hips bend and gently pulling you from the crook of his neck.

“joel..” you murmur shyly, to which he replies with the raise of his eyebrows in questioning. “you’re um… i can feel you..”

he gives a light chuckle in response and traces his fingertips over where your hair falls over your face, “that right darlin’? you feel what y’re doin’ to me?”

you give a shy nod, feeling your cheeks grow hot. he notices how you avoid looking at his face.

“don’t be goin’ all shy on me now, baby. ‘s alright to feel things.”

you nod again, glancing down to his lap where his jeans seemed much too tight and constricting. he notices but doesn’t say anything, his hands moving to your hips and gently up your sides beneath your shirt. they rise just beneath your breasts; he softly thumbs over your nipples, watching your face intensely for a response. you almost squirm at the delicate touch as you watch the shape of his hands moving beneath your shirt, and exhale a quiet sigh of his name.

“we haven’t done it like this before, have we?” he speaks softly, his hands moving back down to your hips as he sees your nipples are hardened under the soft fabric.

“what?”

“we’ve never fucked with you… on top o’ me,” he repeats. a thumb comes up to trace along your jawline and your eyes flicker back up to his face as you shake your head. he smiles when you look at him, “mmm… you wanna change that, baby?”

you nod.

his smile widens and his thumb on your jaw slides down your neck, to your shoulder, where he pushes your hair back. his other hand transgresses the waistband of your sleep shorts, watching your face as he does so. his hand nestles over your centre, the pads of his fingers tracing over you through your underwear, feeling the dampness. your eyes flutter but you watch intensely as he then delves beneath the thin fabric.

“let’s open you up a bit for me baby, huh?” he says, rubbing slow circles over your clit.

you nod eagerly, his words clouding your mind with arousal.

“there y’ go darlin’.. ‘s a good girl,” he praises as you whimper at his touch. he runs a calloused fingertip through the seam of your pussy, coating himself in your wetness.

using his other hand, he finds the hem of your shirt, and slides it up your waist, exposing your abdomen. “can i take this off?” he asks, glancing up at you.

“i…” you hesitate — what about tommy? if he comes back..? joel continues to swirl his fingers over your sensitive clit, making it near impossible to articulate thoughts. “i— don’t know.. what— what if tommy comes ba-ck?” you struggle between short pants and breaths.

he shakes his head and chuckles, “tommy ain’t comin’ back anytime soon darlin’. don’t you worry.”

“but… if he does? i don’t wanna.. take it off.”

his eyes soften; his fingers slow. “you’re worried about him seein’ you like this, hm?”

you nod.

“th’s okay, baby. you don’t gotta. ‘s okay,” he reassures gently.

you nod again.

he takes his hand from your centre and moves both to your waist, pulling your shirt back down. he places soft, wet kisses along your neck again, speaking softly as he does, “‘s no worries.. we’ll just take it slow. lemme take care o’ you.”

his hand finds its way to your hair, tucking it behind your ear. he pulls away from your neck as he feels you fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt, and glances up at you expectantly.

“are you.. gonna take yours off?” you murmur, afraid he’d say no and accuse you of hypocrisy.

he raises an eyebrow and smiles, amused that you’re asking. “you feelin’ shy again darlin’? y’ want me to take it off?”

you nod cautiously.

smiling wider, he laughs lightly, “all right, darlin’.” he takes the hem of his t-shirt from your fingers and lifts it over his head, exposing his abdomen and chest, and his hands find your hips again. your eyes rake over his skin, speckled with greying hairs over his chest and a trail of them that let down to his jeans. he watches you watch with a grin wide on his lips, almost with pride.

he gently runs a hand up your thigh; his touch reminds you that he is not in fact just an object that you get to stare at. you glance back up to his face, almost guiltily for the way your hungry eyes take him in.

“don’t feel bad for lookin’, darlin. y’ know i don’t mind.”

he feels you start to get restless in his lap, growing needier with each passing second. his hand slips back beneath your shorts, eliciting an almost frustrated whine from your throat, needing some real alleviation.

“shhh.. ‘s okay baby. ‘m gonna give you what you need in a bit.” his fingers softly graze your centre, wanting to see how much more he could rile you up.

you grind down into his fingers, the whisper of contact simply not enough. he pushes back against you in response.

“you need it real bad, huh?”

you nod, eyes staring to well with tears of need and frustration.

“ohh, i know darlin’, i know,“ he whispers, fingers still circling over your swollen bundle of nerves, as he glances up to you in awe. “you still wanna try bein’ on top?”

you nod.

“good girl.. tha’s my girl…. just need’a get y’ opened up a bit for me, ain’t that right?”

a whimper escapes your throat, feeling your core pulse at his words.

“oh, baby,” he muses pitifully, “…now, ‘m just gonna start with one finger, ‘kay? work up to maybe 3. that all right?”

your mouth falls agape as he pushes one digit into you, up to the knuckle and he curls it towards himself. “not 3, joel.. i don’t want—“

“shhh.. ‘s alright baby. i’ll do whatever you want, ‘kay?” he reassures as he repeatedly pumps his finger inside of you, soothing over that sweet little spot that made your head roll back. your hands move to his biceps, squeezing onto them tightly; he smiles widely as you do.

“there ‘y go.. ‘s a good girl.. lemme hear you baby,” he murmurs, adding a second finger.

you whine softly as he pushes that little bit further inside, and your pussy involuntary squeezes around him, almost keeping his fingers in place.

“j—joel..” you whimper, feeling how the bicep that is pumping his fingers inside of you strains and flexes beneath your grasp with each movement.

“c’mon baby, y’ gotta relax f’ me.. squeezin’ me so god damn tight.. ‘s like y’r try’na break my fingers or somethin’,” he chuckles, gently soothing his free hand down your side.

“sorry,” you whimper, slightly embarrassed although you know he doesn’t mind.

“‘s alright darlin’.. there y’ go, ‘s alright,” he mutters, feeling you open up as warm waves of pleasure wash from your abdomen and over your body.

“such pretty sounds y’r makin’ baby,” he compliments as you whine, mewl and babble his name, obscene wet sounds making your mind go fuzzy, “you think you’re opened up enough f’ me yet darlin’? y’ ready for me?”

he slows his fingers as you nod; with one last deep push into your aching spot, he removes them from you.

you whimper at the emptiness, shifting upon his lap and eyes darting around his face pleadingly.

“i know, i know darlin,.. y’ wantin’ more ain’t ya?”

you nod shamelessly.

“well now baby.. i need you to be patient for me then.. don’t want you hurtin’ yourself because you were impatient, now, do we?”

you shake your head, becoming aware of your neediness.

“hmmm.. didn’t think so,” he muses as he leans back into the sofa, “now.. you wanna unbuckle me or do you want me to do it?”

his fingers splay over his belt; you look between his hands and his face, afraid of disappointing him.

“um… you can do it,” you mumble

“tha’s all right. ‘s no problem darlin’,” he smiles at your bashfulness as his fingers begin to make work of his belt. he doesn’t wait to pull the soft leather from his jeans; he just unbuttons and unzips them, his self control running low.

he sees your curious gaze glancing down to his hands, eyeing his arousal through the thin fabric of his underwear. “you got me so fuckin’ hard baby,” he chuckles, palming himself through his boxers with a soft grunt.

you blush in response, unable to hide the proud smile that spreads over your lips. he grins, and his thumb moves to your lower lip, gently brushing over the delicate skin. “sweet girl,” he muses, “y’ still alright with bein’ on top?”

you nod in response, excitement building and tightening your chest.

“all right then darlin’. y’ just need’a relax for me, okay? we’ goin’ real slow, just like we’ve been doin’ so far, right?”

you nod; he holds your gaze for a little while, his fingertips moving to the hem of your shorts where he traces along their underside, “can i take these off darlin’?”

you nod eagerly - maybe too eagerly. smiling, he hooks his fingers into their waistband and tugs them down your thighs. you lift a leg out of them to help, leaving them dangling from your other. his thumbs rub over the front of your underwear, “‘m just gonna pull these to the side, that all right baby?”

you nod again, and he squeezes your thighs, shifting you closer, musing a quiet “c’mere” as you settle further into his lap, the most intimate part of you flush against his still clothed hardness. “there you go darlin’.. you ready to give it a go?”

“mhm,” you almost whimper, lifting yourself slightly as he palms himself again, before he pulls himself out - achingly hard and leaking at the tip. he strokes his hand over himself once, a small groan leaving his lips. his freehand settles at your hip, guiding you to hover over him, as you steady yourself on his shoulders and look between your two bodies.

“just do whatever feels natural, baby.. whatever feels right, okay? you ain’t gonna hurt me and i ain’t gonna judge you,” he reassures, as if he can feel your racing mind.

you nod and you let yourself fall a little closer to him, whimpering when you make contact. his tip notches at your weeping entrance; he slides the head of his cock through your slick, eliciting a small whine from deep in your throat.

“easy baby.. now, y’re nice ‘n’ wet, so it shouldn’t hurt, okay? ‘s just gonna feel real full,” he mutters with an adoring glint behind his eyes as he takes the image of you in: eyes fluttering closed, hair slipping over your shoulder, mouth agape and falling apart on his lap.

you lower yourself down a little more, his tip pushing into you and your pussy swallowing him wholly. you earn a grunt from joel; he moves both his hands to your waist, gently guiding you over him, selfishly unable to hold himself back.

“just like that baby.. yeah, feels real good.. there y’ go,” he mumbles breathlessly, feeling you lower further. you instinctively squeeze around him at the praise, your abdomen fluttering and erupting in spasms of warmth, sinking yourself down until you’ve taken him to the hilt.

he releases a guttural groan at the warmth of you clenching around his cock. on the brink of losing himself already, he tightens his grip on your hips and stills you, a series of grunts and breaths stringing from his throat. “christ, baby.. y’ gonna have to wait just a minute.. just a sec.. y’ got me seein’ fuckin’ stars sweet girl,” he speaks, his eyebrows pinched together and eyes tightly closed.

you moan out at the feeling of fullness, your head falling to rest in the crook of his neck as his dick presses into a delicious spot deep inside of you. he regains composure after a little while and begins to lift your hips slightly before pulling you back down. soft mewls and whines fill his ear, the pretty sounds travelling straight to his cock.

“mm.. there y’ go baby girl.. y’ feel that? feels nice ‘n’ full, huh?”

you nod weakly, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes at the sensation of being so full. lifting you with both hands, he slides one up your side beneath your shirt; you help him by steadying your legs around his thighs and raising yourself up, before he pulls you back down, earning a loud whine as a tear spills down your face.

he moans, head leaning back and reeling in the way you’re wrapped around him so tightly. noticing the small stream down your face, he speaks breathlessly, “you okay darlin’? you ain’t hurting on me, now, baby, are ya?”

you shake your head, barely able to concentrate on his words, “‘m fine.. just feels— good.”

his thumb wipes over your warm cheek as he grins, “mm.. well.. you’re doing so good f’ me baby.”

as you squeeze around him again, he grunts loudly, his hold on you tightening and an almost pained expression coming over his face. “i swear to christ, y’re doin’ that on purpose,” he strains.

“sorry,” you mumble, trying to relax.

he smiles and shakes his head, “don’t apologise baby.. felt real good. y’r pussy’s just so goddamn tight.”

you start to move on your own, your forearms resting on his shoulders for leverage as you push yourself up and then back down, building a painstakingly slow rhythm. your faces just mere inches apart, he grabs onto your chin and pulls you to his mouth, your lips pressing together hungrily. he swallows your whines and moans with his tongue pushing into your mouth and his lips enveloping yours as you keep up your slow pace, up and down over his cock. he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, leaving wet marks along your neck that have you whimpering his name.

“tha’s a good girl baby,” he murmurs into your skin, “just make y’self feel good.. take y’r time… that’s it, take it nice ‘n’ slow darlin’.”

you take him slow and deep, undoubtedly unable to increase your pace, but he’s patient enough to let you take him however you want to. his cock notches against that sensitive spot inside of you that only joel knows, dragging along your walls with every rut against him. you look down and watch as you take him, filled to the brim every few seconds, your clit pressed against his greying hair. his chest gleams with droplets of sweat and his abdomen rises and falls with his short breaths. your mouth stays agape and you bury your head into his neck, moaning into the skin there each time you feel him deeply.

“ohh.. ‘s that feel good sweet girl?” he asks as he looks down to you pressed against his shoulders.

“uh-huh,” you mewl, barely able to form coherent words.

“tha’s good.. doin’ so fuckin’ good f’ me baby.”

its not long before your thighs begin to ache. you slow down even further, your legs burning with fatigue. being on top isn’t as easy as it seems; you grasp onto joel with the last ounce of energy you have left.

he feels your thighs tremble and your pace begin to slow more. “you doin’ okay there darlin’?” he drawls, guiding your head out from his neck.

“i— i can’t joel,” you almost whine as you stop, his cock still hard inside of you.

“‘s okay baby. you tired y’self out, huh?” he murmurs empathetically, giving a light kiss to your cheek, “you wanna get on your back?”

you hesitate for a moment, wondering if he’s secretly disappointed, but nevertheless, you nod. “c’mon,” he muses, lifting you onto your back, his dick still inside of you. as he lays you down onto the couch, he gently soothes kisses over your neck and your legs wrap instinctively around his waist. you shuffle yourself downwards slightly, getting comfortable and you exhale a needy sigh, moving your arms to enclose over his back as he holds himself above you.

“‘s that better baby?”

you nod and give him a smile, to which he returns with a grin and a tender kiss to your lips before he pulls back his hips and pushes them back into you. he starts to set a slow pace with long, gentle strokes, grunting with each movement, feeling you tighten around him as the speed of his hips gradually increases. a particularly deep thrust had your back arching with a sharp moan and your nails press down into his back. his head drops at the feeling, a series of loud groans leaving his mouth, as he caught a glimpse of your lower abdomen rising slightly with each thrust of his hips. his groans turn into a soft laugh as he continues to rut into you.

“oh.. sweet jesus baby..” he says, glancing up to your face, “gimme y’r hand.”

you take a hand from his back and hold it to him. his own hand encloses over the top of yours and he moves it between your two bodies, placing it over your abdomen as his hips move against you. you whimper at the feeling of his cock pushing against your walls from the outside, the flesh of your stomach pushing against the palm of your hand as his thrusts quicken in their pace.

“y’ feel me right here, hm? y’ feel that baby?” he almost taunts, pressing your hand down a little harder. the extra pressure has your eyes rolling closed; you tighten around him subconsciously.

“ohhh.. she likes that, huh?” he chuckles, removing his hand from yours and picking up his pace, determined to drive you closer to the brink of your high. his thrusts grow more erratic as he nears the edge himself, haphazardly pushing in and out of you as he begins to lose focus. he feels you swallowing his cock tighter with each movement of his hips.

“you gettin’ close f’ me baby girl?”

you nod, the pleasure building at your abdomen overwhelming all of your senses.

“c’mon then baby. let go f’ me darlin’. lemme feel ya.”

his ruts grow deliberately deeper and faster; he grunts grow louder and strained behind his teeth. you mewl into his ear, your back arching your abdomen into his and the heels of your feet digging into his lower back.

“joel— i’m..”

“tha’s it baby. don’t fight it.. let it happen.. good fuckin’ girl.”

his praise pushes you over the edge, the coil inside of you pulling taut and your core spasming with waves of heat, carnal pleasure shooting all the way to the tips of your fingers. your clit pulses as he continues to sloppily move inside of you, teetering on the edge of his own orgasm, until he feels he’s about to collapse over the brink with one last thrust. he pulls himself out and strokes his wet cock a few more times before he bunches up your shirt and spills himself over your stomach with a guttural groan, his hips jerking with each rope of come that paints your abdomen.

he collapses atop of your spent body with one final grunt as his head falls to rest on your shoulder. your body still trembles with the aftershocks of your high whilst you both try to catch your breath.

“fuckin’ hell,” he chuckles breathlessly, glancing up to see a lazy smile spread across your face, “you doin’ alright there baby?”

“mhm,” you hum, too tired to talk as your eyes flutter closed.

“good.. you did real good darlin’… y’ know.. i was—“

the sound of the front door opening. joel’s head drops to your shoulder again, muttering a quiet “shit”. your body is hidden beneath him; tommy must’ve been able to see joel’s back from behind the sofa. you hear what could only be tommy’s laugh.

“don’t tell me you two have just fucked on my couch.”

“uhhh..”

an : haven’t posted in likee 10 months oopsies

dividers by uzmacchiato

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #joel tlou #dbf!joel

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stylesispunk · 24 days ago

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"What remains of us"

outbreak! Joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel doesn't die after the brutal encounter with abby because you saved him on time.

wc: 4k>

warnings: angst,mentions of blood, mentions of murder (reader becomes violent), fluff, mentions of broken bones. english is not my first language so excuse my mistakes. Written in a rush.

a/n: so uhmm. How are we feeling? I personally feel broken by the events from episode 2 so I rewrite the story while i was free in the morning to help me cope with the grief and joel is alive.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Something felt wrong in your bones the moment the snowstorm hit harder than expected.

Not just the kind of wrong that came with whiteout conditions and freezing wind — this was deeper. Ancient. It whispered through the trees like a secret from another world, brushing icy fingers down your spine. A warning dressed up as weather. You felt it in your chest, in the weight behind your ribs, where your breath stayed too long before escaping.

Your skin burned from cold, your limbs throbbed with fatigue — but none of it compared to the way your heart pounded. Not from exertion.

From fear.

“Hey, you alright?” Jesse called ahead, pulling his scarf down just enough to glance at you.

You nodded too fast. “Yeah, just—cold.”

Ellie was further up the ridge, carving her own path through the deepening snow with the horse, unaware of how your whole body shook with more than frost. You hadn’t told them. Couldn’t. How do you explain that your body knew something your mind hadn’t caught up to yet? That every step forward felt like walking away from safety?

Your heart was screaming in a language older than logic. Since the morning. Since Joel left before you could fully wake up.

The echo of his voice still lingered in your memory — low and warm, brushing against your ear as you stirred under the covers.

“Get some more sleep, darling”

But he hadn’t kissed your forehead like usual. He hadn’t lingered. And when you finally did get up, your gut twisted when you saw the empty space in the stable, the saddle still had damp with snow.

Joel was out there with Dina; you had no idea under what circumstances. And the sky had turned gray with anger.

You shook your head, tried to focus on Jesse’s voice. Tried not to feed the panic unraveling in your chest like a pulled thread. But the cold in your mind spread, and no matter how tightly you gripped the reins, no matter how fast your horse moved, the feeling remained.

Something was wrong.

You finally found a rundown outpost, an old hunting cabin half-buried in snow and swallowed by pine trees. The roof sagged, one of the windows was cracked, and the door barely held on its hinges, but it was shelter. You and Jesse pulled your horses inside the narrow lean-to out back, while Ellie stomped snow off her shoes and kicked the door open with more force than necessary.

Inside, it was cold and smelled like old weed and damp rot, but you didn’t care.

There was a radio.

You didn’t hesitate. Your gloves were off before Jesse could even say anything. Your fingers moved over the knobs, turning dials, trying to find the frequency Jackson always used for patrol check-ins.

A burst of static.

Then another.

Finally, a signal.

Your breath caught. “Jackson patrol, do you copy?”

Ellie moved closer. Jesse pulled his scarf down, suddenly silent.

“Joel? Dina? Come in.”

Only static.

“Come on,” you muttered, heart hammering, twisting the dial again. “Joel, please, respond.”

Nothing.

The silence wasn’t ordinary. You knew silence. This wasn’t delay. It was absence.

Your body went rigid, every instinct screaming louder than your racing thoughts. Your limbs moved before you made the decision. You were out the door and into the snow again before Jesse or Ellie could stop you.

Jesse called after you.

But Ellie was already grabbing her rifle.

“Where are you going?” Jesse yelled, chasing behind.

“Something’s wrong!” you snapped, swinging onto your horse. “I just know it!”

Ellie mounted up beside you, eyes wide and fierce. “Then we’re not wasting time.”

Jesse hesitated, glancing between you both and the radio inside.

“You don’t even know if that’s where they went—”

“I know,” you growled, already riding. “I feel it.”

Ellie followed without a word.

The snow clawed at your skin like it wanted to peel the truth away. The wind howled as if it knew what was waiting ahead. But you didn’t stop.

Because something had happened.

And Joel and Dina were out there.

You and Ellie rode hard, the snow whipping across your faces like knives, the hooves of your horses lost beneath the storm. You could barely see five feet ahead — but then, in the distance, a glow.

“Shit,” Ellie hissed beside you, pulling her hood lower.

You followed her gaze. Through the trees, past the slope of the hill — firelight. Orange, flickering, wrong. It wasn't from a patrol cabin or torch post. It rose in a bloom, too wild to be controlled. You slowed your horse as your stomach dropped.

“It’s from Jackson,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Ellie.

It wasn’t the whole town, not yet. But something was burning. And it was enough to send a coil of panic twisting through your gut, feeding that same deep certainty that had been clawing at you all day.

“Come on,” you growled, spurring your horse harder, cutting off the cold fear before it could settle. “We are too far.”

And it wasn’t long before you saw it, the lodge.

It sat crooked and hunched near a clearing, like it had been dropped there by accident. One of the side windows was shattered. Smoke was seeping through cracks in the boarded upper floor. The front door hung ajar, barely moving in the wind.

You pulled hard on the reins. Your horse bucked a little, skidding in the snow. Ellie drew her rifle and slid off hers.

Your eyes locked on two shapes near the side of the lodge.

Horses.

Your heart stopped.

Joel’s and Dina’s.

Both were tied loosely, their coats soaked with snow, hooves pawing nervously at the ground. Alone. No movement near the front entrance. No voices. No patrols. No sounds but the wind and the creak of the old building groaning under weight it wasn’t meant to bear.

You slid off your horse.

“Ellie…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, breath clouding in front of you.

She already had her knife out.

“Oh shit...”

You didn’t wait for backup. Couldn’t.

Because Joel’s horse was here. And he wasn’t.

And whatever was inside that building, you felt it—It was about to break you open.

The sound of screams of agony and a body hitting the ground echoed down the hallway like a gunshot.

You knew that sound. It was torture. It was pain.

Your boots thundered down the corridor of the lodge, Ellie at your side, a worry and desperate look in her eyes. She’d followed the path like a wolf hunting a pray, her eyes screaming please don’t let it be too late.

You didn’t say a word. Couldn’t. Your heart was stuck in your throat, and the only thing that moved was your body, in fast motion, furious, drawn to the man who should have never left your side in the first place.

Then you saw it. The door, a from inside, screaming slipping from the lips you used to kiss every day. Joel’s screams.

You didn’t wait. You didn’t breathe. You kicked the door open and your world shattered.

Joel was on the floor, a mess of blood and pain and something worse. His legs bent at unnatural angles. One hand barely raised in instinct. His face, bruised, bleeding, one eye swollen shut. His body twitched like it wasn’t sure if it should keep trying.

And above him, a woman. Blonde. Rage carved into her face like she’d practiced it. Her arms raised again, a golf club in her grip, stained red.

She didn’t see you at first. Her eyes were solely focus on Joel, but you weren’t having that.

You roared, not screamed, roared and tackled her with everything you had, all your weight, all your fury. You slammed her into the wall with a force that cracked wood. The club dropped from her hand and hit the ground.

“No more.” you growled.

Her people came fast, like shadows. One tackled Ellie to the ground. Another raised a knife.

But they hadn’t counted on you.

You were already moving, eyes wild, mind gone. You fought like someone who had nothing left but him.

You weren’t skilled like Joel. You didn’t need to be. You were desperate. Right now, you were desperate.

Fists cracked bone. You took hits but didn’t stop. Didn’t feel them. You were pulling someone off Ellie, dragging them by their collar, throwing them into a chair that splintered on impact. You used what you had — a piece of wood, a broken lamp, your fists, your fury.

And they couldn’t stop you. Because you couldn’t be stopped.

The blonde tried to rise again. You met her halfway and slammed her back to the floor. She spat blood. You didn’t flinch.

“Get away from him!” you screamed.

The crack of your shotgun echoed like thunder as the first shell slammed into one of the men flanking her. Blood hit the wall. Chaos exploded in every direction.

“Who the fuck—?!” Abby turned, fury and shock colliding in her face.

You dropped the shotgun, drew your blade, and charged.

The first one that tried to reached for you got a knife through the ribs. You shoved him off like he was made of paper. The next came at you with a bat, you caught the swing and used his momentum to slam him face-first into the fireplace bricks.

“You don’t get to touch him,” you hissed. “Not him.”

Abby swung the club toward your face. You ducked.

Then you hit her. Right in the gut. The force of it sent her staggering back, wind knocked from her lungs.

“You wanna kill him?” you growled. “Try me first!”

She looked at you like she wanted to, but she hesitated.

And that was her mistake.

Because Ellie broke free just long enough to grab your dropped shotgun and aim it at her. “Step back,” she spat, blood in her teeth, voice shaking but solid.

“Now.”

Abby looked between the two of you. At Joel — bleeding, still breathing — at her fallen group. Then she backed off, raising her hands slightly.

“This isn’t over,” she said.

“Yeah,” you snapped, “it is.” You said, pointing your gun right between her brows.

Your shotgun echoed in the stillness of the room.

The blast slammed into her chest, and her body jerked back like a puppet with its strings cut. She hit the floor; eyes wide. No final words. No redemption. Just silence.

Ellie flinched.

You stood over Abby’s body, breath hitching, heart pounding in your ears. The room reek of blood and then there was silence, except for Joel’s ragged breath.

You dropped beside as your knees had finally given out.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice cracking into pieces. “Joel, look at me. I’m here. I got you.”

His one good eye fluttered open, dazed, unfocused. There was blood crusted at his brow, dried and fresh, a cruel mask across the face you’d kissed so many times before.

“Y-you---"he rasped, voice like torn gravel.

You nodded, cradling his face in your hands, not caring that blood smeared across your palms. “I’m here. You’re safe. Don’t you dare go anywhere.”

His breath stuttered, chest rising too slow, too shallow. His eyes couldn’t stay fixed on you. They wandered, like he wasn’t fully in the room anymore.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered, leaning close. Your forehead rested against his, warm against cold.

“Hurts,” he mumbled, eyes slipping closed again.

“No, no,” you said quickly, your hands gently patting his face. “Stay with me. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay. Help’s coming, okay? Just—just hold on.”

But he didn’t answer. His breathing slowed.

Your heart lurched in panic. “Joel!”

Nothing.

You pressed your fingers to his pulse—still there, but faint.

“Don’t you do this,” you choked out. “You fight, dammit. You’ve been through worse, haven’t you? Don’t you leave me now.”

You’d already faced your worst nightmare. Now you were living in it, holding it in your arms.

Joel lay limp and broken on the floor, his breath rattling against the stillness. His face was swollen and unrecognizable on one side, purple and black with bruising. One eye swollen shut. Blood trickled from his nose, his mouth, the side of his head. His legs—

Don’t think about the legs. Not now.

“Hey,” you whispered again, voice hoarse. “Joel. You still with me?”

A faint groan. Barely audible.

But it was enough.

He was still here.

You pulled off your jacket and shoved it under his head. Your hands were shaking, but your mind was locked in: every first aid trick you’d learned from scraps of survival guides, emergency manuals, anything Joel had ever shown you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. You had paid attention.

You just never thought you’d be using it on him.

Dina stumbled in, still pale and groggy, her hand gripping the wall. “Ellie?” she rasped. “Wh—what the fuck happened…?”

You didn’t look up. “You were drugged. Ellie is moving the bodies. We need the space.”

Dina staggered past, gagging at the sight of blood, but she didn’t hesitate. She knew. The air had changed.

This was a war zone. A zone you had built in seconds because you didn’t know what else to do. You blinded yourself; you had become a murderer monster just to save Joel.

You pulled Joel’s shirt open — shredded, stained with red. Purple splotches across his ribs. Swelling. At least two broken.

Your voice cracked. “You’re gonna hate me for this, Joel. But I have to move you.”

“Don’t…” he mumbled, almost unconscious. “Just… leave me—”

“Shut up,” you said, fierce now, your tears splashing onto his collarbone. “Don’t you dare say that. You don’t get to give up.”

Ellie appeared, face pale, blood on her shirt, Dina behind her with a blanket and an old mattress from the back.

“We cleared the room,” Ellie said. “It’s just us now.”

“Good,” you said. “Help me splint his legs. We need to keep him still until we can get him out of here.”

You tore up a curtain and grabbed two broken chair legs. It wasn’t perfect, but nothing about this was. Ellie held Joel’s leg as steady as she could, while you worked the makeshift splint around the worst of the fractures.

Joel screamed.

It was guttural, raw as if he was being dragged through hell.

You didn’t flinch. “I know,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his as you tied the cloth tight. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’ve got you.”

You felt his breath against your skin, shallow and hot.

His lips moved. “Why?” he whispered.

You leaned back and looked at him. “Because I love you,” you said simply.

His eye fluttered open — just barely. And for one fragile second, the pain slipped away. There was only you and you brush the hair from Joel’s face. He was burning up. You needed to clean the wounds. Stop the bleeding. Keep him warm.

Keep him alive.

And somehow, by the grace of whatever broken god still watched over you all, you would.

You pressed a damp cloth to his temple where skin had split beneath Abby’s final blow. His blood soaked through instantly. You didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Your hands moved on their own now. Wash. Compress. Tie. Splint. Whisper to him. Stay with me. Please stay with me.

Ellie and Dina had gone quiet. Standing behind you. Watching. Waiting for direction.

Then your voice broke through the stillness.

“Go back to Jackson.”

Ellie flinched, like she hadn’t expected you to speak.

You didn’t look up. You were holding Joel’s hand — limp and calloused in yours.

“We need help,” you said, barely audible. Your voice was shot. A raw whisper. “Tell Tommy… tell him to send help. We need to get Joel back there.”

Silence. Just the sound of Joel breathing. The sound of blood dripping from the club Abby left behind.

“Please,” you added, and that word cracked like bone. “Please. I can’t carry him by myself. He’s—he’s too heavy. He’s—”

You swallowed hard. Your fingers curled tighter around Joel’s hand.

Ellie stepped forward. “We’re not leaving you.”

You finally looked up, eyes glassy and red-rimmed. “You have to. We need a stretcher, a team. Horses. Anything. I can keep him alive for a few more hours. But I can’t move him like this.”

Ellie’s jaw clenched. Her knuckles went white. “I don’t want to leave you with him like this.”

You reached out, brushing Joel’s graying hair from his brow with trembling fingers. “I’ve got him.”

A pause.

Then Dina touched Ellie’s arm. “I’ll go,” she said gently. “I’ll ride. I’m faster. You stay.”

Ellie nodded, eyes not leaving yours.

You left a loud gasp “No,” you said quietly, lifting your eyes once more to Ellie’s. “Ellie… you go with Dina. I’ll stay here.”

Ellie’s shoulders stiffened. Her brows pulled together like she was bracing for another blow. “What? No. I’m not leaving you and him.”

You sat back on your knees, your hands bloodied, trembling. Joel’s chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged motions beneath you.

“You have to,” you said, your voice breaking. “You have to, Ellie. Dina shouldn’t be riding alone.”

Ellie looked at Joel. Looked at you. And shook her head. “I can’t leave him like this. I can’t.”

You grabbed her hand.

That startled her.

It startled you too.

But you held on, grounding her, pulling her attention back to your face. Your voice dropped to a whisper.

“Please,” you said. “Please. Help me save him.”

Ellie’s eyes filled. Not with tears — not yet — but with everything she couldn’t say. The guilt. The fury. The fear that maybe… it was too late.

But you looked at her like there was still something worth fighting for.

And Ellie, for the first time in what felt like forever, let herself believe it.

She swallowed hard. Nodded once.

“I’ll go.”

Your chest caved with relief. Joel let out a faint groan beneath you, and you turned back to him, brushing your thumb against his jaw.

“I’m here, baby,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

Ellie hesitated at the doorway. “Will he be okay?” she asked before daring to step a foot outside the room.

You nodded, but it was instinct, automatic, hopeful, desperate. The truth lodged in your throat like a splinter you couldn’t spit out.

“I don’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I—I need to stop the bleeding. His leg is bad. His ribs—fuck, I don’t know how much damage they did.” Your eyes flicked over Joel’s body again, breath catching at the way his chest rose unevenly. “But he’s breathing. And that’s something.”

Ellie stepped closer, still pale, still wide-eyed, her clothes soaked with blood—some hers, some not. “What do you need me to do?”

You looked up at her then, and for a split second, she looked like a kid again. Shaken. Haunted. But standing tall.

“Just go back to Jackson and bring help,” you said, your voice barely more than a breath.

Ellie’s eyes burned. She nodded once; jaw clenched. “Okay. Okay. Just hold on, please.”

You gave her one last look. “I’ll keep him breathing.”

She was gone the next second—boots pounding out the door, calling for Dina. You were left in the broken room, just you and Joel and the slow drip of blood on floorboards.

You pressed your hands to the worst of the wounds, breath shaking. “You hear that, Joel?” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his. “Help’s coming.”

He didn’t speak. But his fingers twitched again, slow, and curled around your wrist.

It wasn’t much but it meant he was still here.

That night felt heavy like wet ash. Outside, the snowstorm had died to a bitter hiss. The wind still screamed through cracks in the lodge, but inside, everything had gone quiet—except for the sound of Joel’s ragged breath and the low creak of floorboards every time you moved.

You’d done everything you could.

His legs were splinted crudely with a broken table leg and belts. His wounds were packed with gauze you tore from your own coat lining. You boiled snow over a fire in the next room just to clean the worst of the blood from his side. You weren’t a medic. But you were a woman in love. And that made you terrifying.

He’d faded in and out of consciousness, his lips murmuring your name between groans, sometimes not even sure it was real. You sat beside him, your back against the bloodstained wall, holding his hand in both of yours.

But then it went still.

You hadn’t realized how quiet it had gotten until the sound stopped completely.

“Joel?” you whispered, leaning close.

No answer.

You shook his shoulder, gently. Then harder. “Joel.”

Nothing. His head lolled to the side. His skin felt clammy beneath your palm.

Your breath broke in your throat. “No, no—please, no. Joel—” You cupped his cheeks. “You stay with me; do you hear me?”

Still nothing. And then a twitch.

His brow twitched. His lips parted, barely, and a broken whisper slipped out.

“…Sarah.”

The name came out like a breath lost in time. You froze. Your heart cracked open.

His eyes fluttered beneath closed lids, a flicker of life.

In his mind, it was Austin again.

The smell of smoke and gasoline in the air. Sirens in the distance. Sarah was laughing, running ahead of him, calling back over her shoulder: “Dad, come on!”

And he was smiling. Genuinely smiling. He could hear her. Feel her hand in his again. It was warm. Real.

He turned and they were on the couch. Watching a movie. She was leaning against him, head on his shoulder. He’d just said something dumb. She rolled her eyes. He didn’t want to blink—afraid it’d all vanish.

But then came the gunshot.

Her warmth gone. He spun. He screamed for her. And when he looked down—

You were there.

In the memory. Not Sarah. You. Covered in blood. Crying. Calling his name.

Joel, please. Please.

Your hands were glowing with firelight, trembling as they pressed against his chest.

He tried to reach for you. He couldn’t move. The world was slipping.

And then—your voice cut through the haze.

“Joel, please. Please don’t do this.”

His heart stuttered once. Then again. A sharp inhale tore through his chest as if he’d been drowning.

“Joel!”

He coughed, body shaking, and your hands caught him just in time.

You sobbed, half-laughing as you gripped his cheeks again. “You scared the shit out of me—oh my god” you sobbed.

He looked up at you, dazed, confused. Then his eyes cleared, just a little.

“You were crying…” he mumbled, lips cracked.

“Yeah,” you whispered, brushing your thumb beneath his eye. “Yeah, I was.”

He blinked slowly. “Stop...”

“I won’t,” you promised. “I’m here. I’m staying.”

And as the fire cracked quietly, Joel leaned ever so slightly into your palm, the pain pulling at him, but your voice anchoring him.

The night lingered like a wound that wouldn’t close.

You didn’t sleep.

Your body screamed for rest, but you stayed next to Joel—watching the way his chest rose and fell, slow and shallow, praying it wouldn’t stop again. Every time his breath caught or he groaned too hard, your stomach twisted into knots.

The lodge was cold. Blood had dried into the floorboards. The fire in the next room was too far away to warm either of you, and you didn’t dare move him to get closer.

So you pressed your body to his side gently, just enough to share warmth without causing him pain.

“Still with me?” you whispered.

His eyes fluttered open, sluggish and heavy. “Yeah…” His voice was more gravel than sound.

You breathed out a shaky laugh, your forehead resting lightly against his temple. “You’re stubborn as hell, y’know that?”

Joel let out a faint puff of breath—maybe a laugh, maybe a wince. “…Learned from the best.”

Your throat clenched. You reached for his hand again, interlocking your fingers with his—gingerly, so you wouldn’t brush the torn knuckles.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered.

His eyes moved—slow, searching—until they landed on you again. Then he mumbled something you barely heard.

Silence settled like snow. You closed your eyes, listening to the wind groaning against the walls. Time stretched, only broken by Joel’s breath stuttering again.

Then—his fingers twitched around yours.

Then you whispered, “Joel?”

He made a sound.

“I love you.”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes were glassy with pain. But then he squeezed your hand, and his voice came soft, barely a breath.

“I love you too.”

It felt like the first time he had told you those three words and that had broken you in the gentlest way.

You buried your face in his shoulder, careful of the bruises, and let yourself cry—not in panic, not in fear. But in overwhelming, soul-shaking relief. He was alive.

He was alive.

Joel woke to the soft hum of voices and some old machines. The scent of cleaner stung his nose before the light even reached his eyes.

His body was pain, muted but deep, like a dull echo in his bones. He tried to move, but something warm and heavy rested on his side.

Your head.

You were slumped in a chair beside him, your cheek pressed gently to his arm. Your fingers were laced with his, your grip loose with sleep but still holding on. Still there.

The light in the room was soft, filtering through the curtained window like morning fog. Outside, life stirred in Jackson. But here, it was quiet. Just the two of you.

Joel blinked slowly, his throat dry, the taste of cotton still on his tongue. His gaze drifted down to you. There was a crease between your brows even in rest. You looked exhausted. Pale. Eyes ringed with shadows.

But you were here.

He breathed your name, raw and hoarse.

You stirred at the sound, your head lifting slowly as if from the depths of a dream. Your eyes met his, still sleep-warm but wide with shock. Disbelief flickered, then relief so powerful it made your lips tremble.

“Joel…” you whispered, leaving a sob behind.

His smile was small. Barely there. “You didn’t leave.”

Your hand came up to cup his cheek. “Never,” you said. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He swallowed hard, his hand tightening weakly around yours. “How long?”

“Three weeks,” you said, voice shaking with the memory. “You were unconscious the first few days back. Fever wouldn’t break. They weren’t sure if you’d make it through the second night…”

He looked at you again, really looked. “And you sat here the whole damn time?”

You gave a soft, broken laugh. “Where else would I be?”

His good eye softened. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You leaned closer, resting your forehead to his. “You promised me once you wouldn’t leave me.”

He nodded faintly, his eyes closing for a moment as your breath mingled.

Your fingers brushed his temple, so gently, as if afraid he’d fade again like some half-formed dream. Joel’s skin was warm beneath your touch, warmer than it had been in days, and that alone nearly broke you all over again.

“It’s going to take time,” you whispered, your voice barely louder than the hum of the machines. “To heal. For everything.”

Joel didn’t say anything, but you felt the tremor in his breath.

You threaded your fingers more tightly with his. “But I’m not going anywhere. You hear me?” you said, firmer now, voice catching on the tears in your throat. “I’m not leaving your side. You will get sick of me.”

His lips parted like he wanted to argue, maybe even protest, but then he looked at you again. Really looked. The cut on his brow. The bruising on his cheekbone. The pain behind his eye, and beyond that, the softness that only came when it was just you.

“You shouldn’t have had to—”

“I had to,” you cut in, gently but unshakable. “Because I love you. Because I couldn’t lose you. And I won’t.” you paused to take a deep breath before continuing, “You and I will grow old together, and we will die peacefully in farm, together.”

Joel blinked. His hand tightened slightly in yours again, like the only strength he had left was meant for that one touch. His voice was barely a whisper when he said, “I don’t deserve you.”

You leaned in and kissed his forehead, bruised, stitched, healing. “You’re mine, Joel. And I’m yours. That’s not about deserving. That’s just how it is.”

Silence fell, heavy but not suffocating. The kind of silence where you could finally breathe again. Where you knew, he was going to live.

Joel let his head rest back into the pillow, the edge of a tear slipping from the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” he whispered, smiling at you.

You smiled through your tears, the kind that burned hot down your cheeks but carried no pain—only release. Relief. Love.

You shifted in the chair, reaching up to brush a bit of hair back from his forehead, careful not to touch where it was most tender. His skin warmed beneath your fingertips. Alive. He was alive. The reality of that still hadn’t fully settled in.

“I’m gonna be here when you wake up,” you promised, voice like a hush of wind through leaves. “Every morning. Every damn day if I have to. You focus on getting better.”

Joel's smile trembled, worn and crooked, but it was his. The first real smile you'd seen in so long it felt like a lifetime ago. His good eye drifted shut, but not before his fingers gave yours one more squeeze, like he couldn’t bear to let go even in sleep.

You watched him as his breathing evened out again, slow and steady, like the beat of a familiar song you never thought you’d hear again. The machines hummed softly beside him. The faint glow of a streetlamp outside filtered through the hospital window, painting golden lines across the bedsheets.

You rested your head by his side again, your cheek brushing his arm, eyes closing just for a moment. Not to sleep, but to hold the feeling. The warmth. The miracle.

He was still here.

And you would be, too. Always.

#fic: what remains of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller angst #pedro pascal

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ozarkthedog · 9 months ago

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary: the world crumbled before you could experience the touch of another. Joel does his best to keep you innocent for as long as he can.

pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x afab virgin!reader.

warnings: 18+ mdni. established, undefined relationship. PUSSY RUBBING. fluids galore. just the tip. perv!joel. unspecified age gap. fingering. dirty talk. overstimulation. male masturbation. FEELS. Joel is a conflicted old man. reader is able bodied. no Ellie. w.c. 2.9k

an: i watched a porn clip and instantly went rabid thinking about jackson!joel.

-> follow up to a glimpse of heaven but it's not necessary to read the first part.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Like most of Jackson, the house you share with Joel is quiet and calm when night falls. Rain softly patters against the window as you lie in bed, wide awake. Another night of fruitless sleep under your belt.

You huff irritatedly, your hand collapsing against the mattress as you bitterly kick your bedspread onto the floor. Your oversized shirt clings to your body, your skin dewy from the exertion, and you're close to crying. Your limbs are wrought and overworked after hours of touching yourself with no orgasm to show for it.

Your hand won't cut it; it isn't enough. It can't reach all those sensitive spots that make you float among the stars.

Warmth pools in your abdomen as you think of one that's the perfect size.

A hazy hue of yellow light pours under your bedroom door as it spills from the room across the hall.

Joel.

It takes a long time to get to know someone, but they tend to meld with your soul once you do in one way or another.

From the start, Joel was intimidating. He was so frayed around the edges that you were afraid he'd completely unravel in the middle of your journey. He didn't seem to care for your company as the two of you traveled across the plains to Jackson, hesitation poisoning every fiber of your being, but you kept on with the strange man since no one else was willing to trek across the states. You desperately needed a new life, a fresh start away from the Boston QZ, and Jackson sounded like the perfect spot.

Over time, Joel opened up, conversing little by little as you drove for miles across the now barren US. Usually, after you had a close call with raiders or the lone gunman, he'd go silent, the weight of protecting someone other than himself sinking further into his soul, consuming that much further.

What you never expected was for him to be your first touch.

Sweltering tension slowly grew like a wildfire. Catching each other's curious stares, lingering fingers, and salacious banter until, one night, he slid a cautious hand into your panties. He claimed your untouched sex when you confessed over a roaring fire and a bottle of whiskey that you'd never been with another. His weathered hands were gentle as he sunk his fingers into your core, watching with rabid fascination as you came for the first time, gasping from his touch.

The following day, as he drove you across the interstate with the sun slowly rising, he made sure you knew that wouldn't happen again. "I'm much too old. Don't wanna waste your time with a mean ol' grump like me."

You didn't bring it up again.

One month after settling into Jackson, picking bedrooms, and deciding who would do which chores, Joel had his first taste of you.

It wasn't supposed to happen.

You chewed your dinner slowly in the modestly sized dining room across from Joel. You were so lost in thought that he was concerned enough to ask what was wrong.

"What does it mean when a man eats you out?" you naively pondered, causing him to choke on his veggies.

Joel had never looked so red before as he took a long drink of whiskey. You instantly apologized, explaining that you overheard a group of women conversing while you tended the communal garden.

He raised a hand, curbing your frantic rambles. "S'ok. Figured you'd be learnin' things. Just didn' think I'd be the one you'd ask."

"But I trust you."

His jaw twitched at your words.

Later that night, Joel fell to his knees at the edge of your bed and tossed your legs over his broad shoulders. "Never tasted a pussy so sweet," he mumbled against your glistening folds as you ran your fingers through his graying curls. You came multiple times on his tongue, grinding his whiskered jaw while he hungrily lapped at your soaked folds like he was dying of thirst.

You didn't bring it up again.

It's warmer in Jackson now. The sun hangs longer in the sky. Snow boots and jackets are stowed away until the next freeze.

You slink from the warmth of your bed and pad sockless across the hall. Lightening flickers brightly under the starry sky. The night rain storm slowly whirls through the city, soaking everything in its path.

Joel's door is open. A soft smile tugs at your lips; it's his way of saying he's still up. He keeps it ajar while he reads before rolling onto his side and bidding goodnight to the world.

Three soft knocks alert Joel from the guitar-building manual he's currently reading. Dread clouds his mind for a moment, wondering why you'd be knocking on his door at this time of night, but he takes a deep breath and grounds himself in the softness of his bed.

"Yeah?" he calls out. His tone is rough around the edges after a long day on patrol.

You poke your head around the door with a timid smirk. He looks at you over his reading glasses before marking his spot and laying his book on the side table.

You don't say anything as you stride into his room. He notices your oversized shirt swaying at your knees before you climb into his bed and curl against his side like a cat.

He drapes an arm around your shoulder, unconsciously pulling you closer.

"'Nother bad dream?" he questions with a low rumble.

You shake your head. "Can't sleep."

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his shoulder and feel him nod, understanding the endless struggle for a night of peaceful sleep. It's improved since moving to Jackson, but the dreams never end.

Silence fills the bedroom except for the soft pitter-patter of rain against the roof. Joel leans against the headboard, sighs through his nose, and lets his thoughts drift. He's content to sit with you in his arms for as long as possible, even if that makes him selfish.

He wonders if you hope to find someone to settle down with, someone less ridged and mentally maimed, someone less him.

The thought drives a stake through his heart.

He'd be crazy to say he didn't love being around you. Your laugh and lopsided smile took the first brick out of his impenetrable fortress when you spied a deer and her calf frolicking in an open field in Kansas. From then on, it became easier for him to let his walls down.

When you came to him with those big doe eyes and urges about wanting to know what it's like to be touched and desired, he gave in each time despite his reasoning.

He would masturbate each time after getting his hands on you, also thinking about the early days when he'd catch glimpses of you changing or the time he first saw you naked while showering at the YMCA.

He's still trying to figure out what to make of you. Friends? Lovers? He certainly didn't mean to fall head over heels. Love had no place in his heart, but he'd be a fool to say he wasn't extremely fond of you.

"Can you make me feel good again?" your lithe voice broke the silence.

Joel stops breathing. Your question doused him like a cold bucket of water. He knew this would come back and haunt him.

His hand curls tight around your shoulder as he wrestles with the devil on his shoulder. "Told ya we shouldn't keep doin' this, Sweetheart," he reasons, trying not to break your heart.

"But I can't make myself feel as good as when you've done it. I've tried!" You whine, burying your face into his chest.

"S'not that I don't wanna," he admits, soothing your soft cries. "S'just, you're too precious to do that wit' someone like me."

You lift your head and brazenly brush your lips against the exposed skin of his collarbone, earning a low groan as he curls a large hand around the back of your neck. He tugs you away from his skin, your lips still forming a tight 'O', and pins you with a stern gaze.

"Joel, it hurts." Your watery eyes and trembling bottom lip are his downfall.

"Lay back, Sweetheart, and spread your legs," he orders with a husky tone.

You don't make a noise; too afraid he'll stop if you do. Your cunt beats against the gusset of your panties as you lay on your back, spreading and bending both legs at the knee, just like he taught you.

A warm breath fans down your face as he shifts down your body before kneeling between your legs and tracing teasing fingers over your covered mound. His nails lightly scratch along the worn cotton, making you suck in a frantic breath. He slips a practiced hand beneath the crotch of your panties and deftly explores your folds, gently rubbing small circles on your clit after wetting his fingers with the arousal that's pouring from your cunt.

"Oh, she's achin' real bad, huh?" he groans as your opening clenches beneath his wandering touch.

"Joel, please, I need-" You gasp, hips wantonly grinding against his hand, desperate for any type of friction.

The muscles in his jaw ache. It's only natural you'd be wanting more.

Before he thinks twice, Joel draws his cock out from his sweatpants. Your stomach cramps at the sight as it smacks against his belly; he's massive.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs like a solid, dangerous threat. It weeps from the dusky tip, shiny liquid dripping from the crown as he squeezes his hand around the girthy base peppered with dark gray, wiry hair.

"Got somethin' that'll make you feel good, sweet girl." he grits, tapping his cock against the covered crux of your pussy. It thwaps devastatingly against your clit, forcing a gasp from your lips as mind-numbing pleasure races up your spine and leaves you staring dumbly up at him.

"S'that what you need? Need my cock to keep 'er from achin so bad'?" his cock is searing as it lies in wait atop your panty-clad mound. You swear you can feel his blood pumping steadily into his shaft.

He cautiously thrusts his hips, sliding his length along your cotton-covered mound. Your slick arousal seeps thru the material, wetting the thin cotton and creating a sensuous touch as he glides along your cunt.

He shoves your shirt up over your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He licks his lips, "Such'a beauty."

Your cheeks flame at his words. Having such a man say things about you makes you lightheaded.

Joel groans as your panties practically are now see-through from your combined fluids staining the cotton, "Oh, baby." You whine at his pet name. "I got ya. Keep those legs open, just like I taught ya. S'good girl."

He keeps a steady pace, sawing back and forth over your extremely soaked mound. Your puffy pussy lips stick to the soaked cotton, leaving nothing to Joel's imagination. He glides easily along your slit, your juices smoothing his path until your arching your back and chanting his name like a prayer.

Watching you orgasm under his touch is enough to drive him wild. He throws all sense of logic out the window. He's okay with being selfish again.

"Let's get these off, yeah." He hooks two fingers under the elastic and slides your panties off before his words register in your euphoric haze. "Feel even better without 'em."

He swallows hard at the sight laid out before him. The sheets splay and curve around your naked body, making you look like an ethereal being sent to test his limits.

"Gonna give 'er a kiss, Sweetheart," his deep timbre vibrates your body as he draws close and touches the bulbous tip of his cock to your exposed folds. Blood rushes to your cunt instantly, bordering on the edge of pain. You cry out from the intense contact, and arousal slips freely down your crack as he traces his cockhead up and down your soaked slit.

"How's she feel?" He anchors his head, looking down at you from under his lashes.

"S'nice," you half whisper, half moan. The wanton bliss slowly consumes you the more he rubs against your sticky folds, keeping a hand locked around his girthy base, his crown glistening with your combined arousal.

Your eyes tear open, back arching like a bow, when he cants his hips and taps his cock square in the center of your cunt.

"M'not gonna fuck you, sweet girl, wanna keep you whole," he declares, holding true to his word despite the overwhelming need to claim you.

He can't be the one to sully you. "Ain' much left'a this world that's as sweet n' pure as you."

Your core quivers as his dusky, throbbing crown glides along your glistening seam. He tentatively explores uncharted areas, brows furrowed with concentration, fighting with inner demons who want to claim, corrupt, and mold you for only his touch.

His name leaves your lips with a mess of desperate, frustrated moans, "Please, Joel."

He snaps out of his haze. He's done almost everything he can to keep you safe and protected in this new way of life. He'll be damned if he doesn't grant you anything you ask for.

"S'hurtin' somethin' fierce, huh?" He grunts, angling his hips until his cock lines up with your fluttering hole. "Bet she needs somethin' big'er than fingers to ease 'er throbbin'."

His cock catches on your opening, forcing a hiss through his clenched teeth. As tight as you are, he can't stop from pushing into your warmth. He blocks out any sense of reasoning that's shouting from the back of his mind as he slowly nudges his cock into your weeping, inviting hole.

Joel goes brain-dumb momentarily, watching in immoral awe as your core ever so slowly swallows his fat tip and breaches your quivering hole, forcing a raspy whine from your throat.

So warm, safe, and wet.

Joel's never felt anything like you. He wants to bury himself, slide his cock as deep as he can, claim every inch, endlessly fill you with his cum, and keep you only for him.

You frantically reach for him, hands clutching the air as he rubs a callous thumb over your clit while keeping a steady hold on the base of his cock.

"S'all she's gonna get," he states, returning to his senses and hissing when your cunt tightens. "S'just the tip."

A soft begging whine bubbles from your lips as you extend your arms, needing something solid to hold before latching onto his wrists.

Your hips move on their own, desperate to feel his length completely shunted in your velvet warmth, but brute hands envelop your hips and pin them to the bed.

He shakes his head, salt and pepper curls fraying across his forehead. "Don' be greedy now." He tuts, narrowing his gaze down at you.

A garbled mess of nonsense tumbles from your lips as your fingernails dig into his muscular, hairy forearms.

"I know. S'big, huh?" He lands a solemn thumb on your clit, rubbing tender circles around the tiny bud. "Stay wit' me, sweet girl. Wanna feel you come on my cock."

Your mind spins. It's all too much, and yet, not enough. Your head tosses from side to side, and you're frantic to survive, breathing hard and fast, waiting for the drop to come and, at the same time, never wanting it to come.

"Don't I deserve it? Keepin' you safe all this time." Joel muses, stroking his cock in time with his teasing thumb. His eyes never leave where he's splitting you open. He's barely penetrating you, but it's enough to know if he had, you'd be struggling to take him.

"Come on, Sweetheart. Let go f'me," he urges, his touch growing faster. Severe, tightly drawn circles tease you closer to the edge.

Your stomach flips. A heaviness settles in your throat, your heart lodging in the tight confines, your blood pumping faster and faster. A lithe whine slithers free, escaping into the dimly lit room and burrows into Joel's mind.

His jaw clenches, and a dark growl rumbles from his chest, "Thatta' girl. Make'a fuckin' mess'a me."

Your dripping hole quivers and throbs around his swollen tip as you come with a silent scream, body locking taut, trying its best to engulf his length entirely.

Joel curses, jerking his length with long, steady tugs and rubbing his weeping, cream-covered tip around your soaked folds before his spine goes straight, and he yanks his cock from your core, curling in on himself and spilling his seed all over your belly with a deep, gravelly moan.

You sag into his sheets, spent with a shiny thin layer of dew and white ropes of spend painted across your abdomen.

"Shit." Joel curses, breathing heavily as he holds himself by his hands, which press into the mattress by your head, keeping you locked beneath him.

You hold his studious gaze. His dark eyes ruminate, tinged with mood, as his gaze drills down into your very core, threatening to demolish your soul. You resign that this was nothing special. Just another night you won't talk about again.

Joel eases off of you with a grunt, his bones aching from the tension despite the brief, pleasurable relief, and tucks his cock back away into his sweatpants. He shuffles to the bathroom momentarily before returning with a damp washcloth.

He wipes the cloth over your belly and between your thighs, cleaning the combined arousal from your skin before chucking the rag into the hamper with a sigh.

"I know," you mutter, grimacing as you roll onto your side and sit up, tugging your shirt down. "I won't mention it again."

A solid, warm hand on your shoulder stops your retreat. "Stay," Joel whispers with soft, yearning eyes. "I wan' you to stay, sweet girl."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal

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colmiillo · 8 months ago

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When y/n does something so cringe that i have to look at the invisible camera for a sec.

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talaok · 27 days ago

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After all

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: A morning in Jackson with your husband Joel and his kid Ellie, only ever since you got pregnant he has seemengly become insatiable.

Warnings: A bunch of fluff, reader is pregnant, unspecified age gap, smut| Unprotected p in v, creampie, breeding kink, big dick Joel (ofc), soft!dom Joel.

a/n: this is a weird short lil thing bc i am delulu and i dont wanna think about the next ep. this is what happens. all of this is canon 100%.

You'd stopped setting an alarm long ago.

This was the only way you ever woke up now... with Joel Miller's mouth on you.

Today, the kiss had landed on the top of your head.

"Mornin' beautiful"

The man was like an alarm clock, he always woke up at the same exact time, and he'd made it a routine now of taking his sweet time in the morning.

Each day felt like a blessing when he opened his eyes and you were in his arms, breathing deeply onto his chest, his neck... every morning he'd wake up and stare at you for a little while, letting you have a few more minutes of sleep, thanking whoever was responsible for having ever let him meet you.

And this morning had been no exception.

"Good morning" you mumbled, softly rubbing your face against his neck as you tried to will your eyes to open.

Your senses were invaded with everything Joel- his potent manly scent, his heat, his touch... just as every morning he was the welcome reprieve against the daunting task of starting your day.

But today it seemed a slow morning wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

You finally craned your neck up with a yawn before smiling softly at him.

He always looked so cute in the morning, when his defenses weren't up because it was just you and him...

Without speaking, without needing to, both of you leaned closer to the other until his mouth was gently pressing on yours- which is how you usually greeted each other every morning... what didn't however happen every day was his lips pressing harder, his tongue infiltrating your mouth, or his left hand forcing your head even closer to his.

You didn't even have time to smile at his eagerness that he'd pinned you beneath him, kissing you brutally now, his tongue fighting with your own as his right hand began to trail down your swollen belly looking to get beneath your sleeping shorts.

Your hands went to his hair- it had changed since you'd arrived in Jackson, his locks had grown longer and greyer and it didn't matter how many times he'd come up with an excuse as to why he wanted them short again... you'd never allow it, it was as if his long hair was the proof of how comfortable and safe he'd grown here... around you.

"Joel" you managed to murmur, trying to slow him down.

But he didn't answer, he only groaned in response as his left hand seeped underneath your shirt, desperately grasping your boobs.

"Baby" you cooed as his mouth left yours to peck whatever inch of your neck he could reach.

"I need ya darlin'"

You wanted nothing more than to accept what you knew was about to come, but even if it killed you, you spoke up.

"I wanted to make breakfast baby" you murmured as his calloused fingers touched your belly as if it were made of porcelain, caressing it with all his love "before Ellie goes on patrol"

The groan he let out was one of both frustration and protest.

Joel had never been a fan of Eliie going on patrol... quite the opposite really.

He'd tried to talk her out of it countless times, he even persuaded Tommy into getting her off some shifts, but to no avail, she always got her way.

He even tried getting you on his side, and although you didn't love the idea, you knew better than to tell Ellie what to do.

You'd had countless conversations about it, hundreds of:

"You can't protect her forever Joel" and "She's not a kid anymore, you can't tell her what to do"

And he'd always say something like:

"It's too damn dangerous" and "I just don't get why she has to go"

And then he'd always complaint about how "She's so damn reckless" and every time, you couldn't help but smile as you reminded him: "She's just like her dad"

But in the end, he had accepted it... he wasn't happy about it, but at least he got Ellie to promise she would be 'real fucking safe' and that she'd stay out of trouble.

Which is why you smiled as you guided his head up so you could kiss him.

"Please?" you bit down a smile, half laughing "I'll make it up to you later"

He grumbled displeased before giving up.

"I hate that goddamn patrol"

__ __ __

Eggs were frying in the sizzling pan, but all your focus was on Joel's mouth devouring your own... again.

Joel Miller had always had a voracious appetite, but from the very first moment you got pregnant he'd become insatiable.

Every single second he had to have his hands on you, no matter if you were in public or not, his palm was on your lower back, on the inside of your thighs, on your cheeks, and most of all on your growing belly.

And then there were times like now, where he had every inch of your body pressed against his, both his hands on your ass, as he kissed you like it was the very last time he ever could.

That was until a voice startled you.

"Jesus"

It seemed Ellie had made it to breakfast.

"Get a room you two"

Joel begrudgingly took a step back, letting you out of his hold so you could finally greet poor Ellie... you would have liked to say this was the first time she'd caught you showing a little too much affection to each other, but the truth was the girl must be tired of it.

"Hi Ellie" you smiled wide, certain that your face and cheeks were flushed enough to notice.

"Good mornin' kiddo" Joel nodded, pouring himself a cup of coffee, completely unfazed.

"No wonder you got pregnant in less than a year" Ellie grumbled, making you chuckle.

__ __ __

Breakfast flew by. It was mostly Joel and Ellie who talked, yapping about whatever disgusting discovery Ellie had made on some recent patrols or the new jokes she and Dina had made up.

The whole time Joel's hand remained on your thigh as he listened eagerly at every word leaving Ellie's lips- but you... you weren't really listening, all you could do the whole time was smile, as the rising sun shined through the windows, as Joel's and Ellie's laughs filled the room, as your child grew in your belly, you could only smile as the reality of how great life could really be, even after all, set in.

__ __ __

Ellie had run out of the house only minutes ago.

You were just starting to wash the first mug in the sink when he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, kissing your cheek.

He set down the last dish he'd retrieved from the table into the sink and guided your hands away from the task, forcing you to turn around.

You could see it in his eyes before he even spoke a word.

"Jesus baby you're insatiable today" you laughed as he smirked, leaning closer to leave a soft kiss on your lips.

"can't help myself when my wife looks so goddamn beautiful" he murmured, his hands finding your sides so his thumb could trace small circles on your belly.

You smiled at his words as he moved you against the kitchen counter. "You're gonna be late to work"

He nodded mindlessly, kissing your neck and sending shivers down your back.

"'m sure they'll survive without me"

And that was that.

You didn't even know why you'd tried to protest, you could never deny him... and he never did change his mind.

"You wanna go on the bed?" he asked breathlessly between kisses, his big warm palms working your shirt up and off of you.

Jesus, you got hotter every day.

You let out a soft cry as his leg found its place in between your thighs and he grinded his rock-hard cock against you.

You hadn't even touched him and he was damn near losing his mind.

"You're the one with the bad back... and knees... and-"

He interrupted you with a kiss, moving you onto the counter as an answer.

"You're saying I'm old sugar?" he challenged, his voice sweet as honey and lustful as ever.

You grinned, your hands traveling downwards to the tent in his sweatpants.

"Well it sure isn't me who needs glasses"

He couldn't help but softly laugh, his forehead falling to yours- though the moment your hand infiltrated his boxers and grabbed his dick, giving it a slow, torturous pump all the sounds coming out of his mouth turned to a desperate groan.

"fuck doll" he growled, getting rid of your shorts and panties in one quick move "You sure you're comfortable here?"

It was funny, the way while he asked that, he was already guiding his cock into you.

"Yeah," you nodded nonetheless, your voice barely a whisper "it's... it's perfect"

The cold of the counter against your skin grounded you as Joel thrust his dick inside you- inch by inch.

No matter how many times he filled you, you were never getting used to him.

"Fuckin'- Jesus Christ babydoll" he growled, his mouth just an inch from yours, both your heavy breathings mixing with one another.

"Feel like fuckin' heaven," he growled before he started moving.

And... yeah... fuck.

Moans started spilling from your mouth like prayers as your hands went to his back, scratching his skin as you held onto him for dear life.

He never went particularly hard since the baby, but he still managed to go fast... and deep.

"Oh my god" you cried, eyes locked with his as he split you in half "Joel" you mewled, earning a messy kiss.

"takin' me so well darlin'" he praised, moving some hair from your face as your eyes fogged up with that pre-orgasmic haze "Always so good for me... I'll never tire of this perfect fuckin' pussy baby- think about it every second of every day... fuck"

At that, at the feeling of his cock grazing your cervix with each thrust, your walls hugging him impossibly tight and his sweet southern drawl coming out more the more ecstasy took over, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your moans got higher and louder.

You'd never had to be quiet since Ellie moved to the garage, and you sure didn't miss it.

"J-Joel-- Oh shit"

You threw your head back as the pleasure started overriding your body, your legs spasming as your mind went blank, and Joel took it as an opportunity to bend down and kiss every inch of your neck he could reach- eventually, he started focusing right beneath your ear, where he knew drove you crazy.

"You're gonna come for me sugar?" he purred, the sound of his skin slapping with yours bouncing off the kitchen's walls "be a good girl and come on my cock darlin'"

He didn't even have to ask.

You silenced your own cries by biting down on the piece of him where his neck met his shoulder as your vision went white and all you could feel was pleasure in its purest form.

Joel watched every second of it, his eyes inevitably lowering to your belly together with his hands... he couldn't believe this was real.

You didn't know how long the orgasm went on, but Joel didn't stop for one second. It was only when you finally relaxed that he let himself off the hook.

"I'm gonna come babygirl" he groaned, his thrusts turning sloppy "Gonna fill you up" he smiled, kissing your mouth as you tried your best to reciprocate in the post-orgasmic haze "It don't matter that I've filled you up already... need to show everyone you're mine" he grunted, his hands cradling your belly making you beam "gonna make you a mama over and over again, sugar- fuck- goddamnit"

Before you knew it, he was doing exactly what he'd said- filling you up.

His head fell to the crook of your neck as he groaned loud enough for the whole Jackson to hear.

His eyes seemed even bigger as he peeked up at you after a while, nothing in them if not joy and devotion.

"I love you" he murmured, kissing you softly.

"I love you" you promised back.

Yeah... life really could still be great after all.

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bluebeary-jay · 1 month ago

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Crawlin' back to you

Joel Miller x f!sunshine!Reader

Summary: you ask Joel for help while preparing for your upcoming date with another man. (or so it seems)

Tags: grumpy x sunshine, idiots in love, sweet sweet fluff, age gap, a drop of angst, peepaw is insecure abt his age :(, Jackson era, Joel is kind of slow but it's okay we still love him (pookie doesn't realize how hot he is), me dancing around the smut like i'm a fucking circus acrobat

Word count: 4K

A/N: sooo very long time no see 🙈 ever since the start of 2025 i'm telling myself to get back into writing but it still felt like a chore lol. but i REALLY wanted to finish this fic before tlou s2 drops so here it is!!! i'm really proud of how it turned out and i hope to write more in the near future. love you all so so much and as always, happy reading!! 💕

dividers by @saradika 🩷

Joel Miller didn't have friends.

He had a couple of buddies before the outbreak with whom he used to watch the game sometimes, but nothing more than that. Tommy didn't count, of course, because he was his brother and therefore had to be nice to him. The only other person who could put up with him was Ellie, but the kid was… a kid. As for the other people in Jackson, they were wise to keep their distance from Joel, not wanting to hang around a shadow of a man such as him.

He didn't mind. He liked the peace and quiet, and it didn't bother him one bit that everyone seemed to give him a wide berth, whispering about the danger that he was.

Well, almost everyone avoided him. You, the exact person that should stay far away from a man like Joel Miller, gravitated to him with an almost effortless ease. Even amongst all the hopeful people that created Jackson, you were the purest, brightest ray of sunshine, always helpful and compassionate towards anyone who came your way. And even though Joel wasn't exactly welcoming to you in the beginning, you never gave up and persisted – and eventually, befriended him.

And ever since the first time you spoke to him, he didn't stand a chance. You were young and pretty, and so charming with your innocent optimism… Before Joel realized, he was fantasizing about you during the lonely evenings, dreaming of your voice late in the night, and looking for you in the crowd when he was out of the house.

He was way too old to feel this kind of way, and every now and then it felt like he was balancing on a tightrope between being stupid and borderline creepy. Such a sweet girl like you wouldn't look twice at an old man like him if she knew the things that sometimes ran through his mind when he was seeing other men flirting with you, seeking the same warm light that Joel grew addicted to.

That was the poison mixed with your sweetness – even though it was irrational, with you everything seemed easier than it was.

…even falling in love.

And fall Joel Miller did. It was an embarrassing, tainted experience, especially when he remembered how much older than you he was. But he couldn't help it, and once this burning want became clear to him, he didn't really want to fight it, either.

You were everything he should stay far away from – young, pretty and so bright with your smiles, your hope, your innocence. A sinner like Joel Miller had no place in your life, and yet he couldn't muster the courage to let you go. It was selfish of him, he knew, but spending time in your company was one of the few brightsides of his life… and he didn't have many of those, lately. He genuinely enjoyed being near you – a lot more than he probably should.

That's why, when he noticed you skipping his way with a bright smile splattered across your cheeks, he felt his heart instantly lighten. It was a hard day of work at the construction site and he was relieved to finally be heading home, but just the sight of you made the weariness disappear from within his bones.

“Joel! Hi!” Something must have stirred you quite strongly, for you were practically bouncing with excitement. The words were spilling out of your mouth before he even had a chance to say hello. “I need your help, right now. Please.”

“Slow down, darlin’,” he chuckled, letting you drag him by the arm to a wall of the nearest building and away from the crowd. “You alrigh’?”

“Yeah, yes, of course.” You waved to someone passing by, totally unfazed – or maybe just ignorant – that you were being seen with him in public. “I just need your help.”

“Well, what is it?” he repeated the question and finally, you turned to face him. Joel couldn't help but match the pretty smile on your face, but it quickly faded when you blurted out your next words.

“I like someone.”

That short, simple sentence wrecked Joel’s world by the foundations. For a couple of seconds he just stared at you with his mouth slightly agape while you fidgeted with your hands nervously, but still overjoyed.

“Wh– uhh, sorry?”

“I like someone,” you repeated excitedly, as if your words weren't piercing right through Joel's heart. “And I need your help.”

All of the sudden, the world lost all its colors, as if all the meaning was sucked out of the universe just by your words.

Why it was such a surprise to him, Joel didn't know. Of course you'd sooner or later get together with someone. He should have expected it. You were young, pretty and such a joy to be around, people were gravitating towards you instinctively. Like moths to a flame.

Just like him – yet he was always destined to only get burned.

“Joel?”

You leaned closer and Joel's eyes instinctively focused on your lower lip worried between your teeth. You were obviously oblivious to his feelings, as well as the effect you had on him – otherwise he doubted you'd tempt him like that, unknowingly making his mind fixate on how perfect your lips would have felt under his touch.

But no, it wasn't his caresses you wanted. There was someone else, someone far more deserving of you, and you were asking Joel only for his help. And though it hurt him – it killed him to lose this small sliver of affection you had been giving him so far – he nodded supportingly.

“Wha… what do you need help with, sweet girl?” he asked softly, trying not to show how devastated he felt inside. Joel had no desire to hear about whoever was fortunate enough to gain your favor, but again, luck wasn't on his side.

“I made a plan to meet him,” you explained enthusiastically, grabbing his forearm. Joel looked at where your fingers touched his skin, barely listening to your words. “Tonight. And I need you to come with me.”

That woke him up from his reverie. Joel huffed and shook his head sharply, looking at you like you were out of your mind.

“No.” His tone was almost biting, but through his firm refusal, a trace of panic was slipping through. You pouted, squeezing his forearm lightly.

“Oh, come on, please? I just want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

“No,” Joel repeated, much weaker this time. “Hell no. Why would I–” Then, a dark thought bloomed in his mind and his face turned concerned. “You're worried he'd do somethin’ to you?”

“Oh, no, no!” It was your turn to shake your head, and you actually cracked a smile at Joel's worried tone. “No, he'd never hurt me.”

Your voice got softer; your smile turned serene. Joel wanted nothing more than to turn away when your eyes started to wander across his features, but again that proved to be too herculean of a task compared to the hold you had over him.

“He's kind,” you continued absentmindedly, and on the edge of consciousness Joel remembered your hand was still on his arm, tracing small lines with your thumb. “Respectful and thoughtful… A real gentleman.”

“A-and who’s he?” Joel found the courage to ask, breaking you out of your daydreams. You smiled happily again – that damned, sweet smile of yours – and removed your hand. He immediately started missing the feeling of your touch.

“You'll see.” You looked over your shoulder when someone shouted your name a street away, and waved from the distance. You gave Joel one last pleading look, clasping your hands together. “Come to the Tipsy Bison at 9. Please? You can just sit in the corner but I'll feel so much better and safer with you there.”

Once Joel looked into your beautiful, pleading eyes, he was a goner. He never could deny you anything either way.

Even when he would kill for a chance to go on a real date with you.

“Okay,” he finally caved in. “Alrigh’. I'll be there.”

The overjoyed smile you gave him was almost enough to soothe the hollow pain in his chest.

Almost.

Great. Fucking great.

Joel made another turn around the street, trying to build up the courage to approach Tipsy Bison. The flannel shirt he wore was itching uncomfortably, but he was already half an hour late and there was no time to go back home and change.

He regretted ever setting foot in Jackson. It was a nightmare situation for him, having to spend the evening in a room full of loud, drunk people and watch as you go about your date with another man. Joel thought a dozen times about making up some excuse as to why he can't chaperone your date after all. He even went as far as to beg Tommy to accompany him, just that he wouldn’t have to suffer alone, but his younger brother just gave him a pitying look, saying something about spending time with Maria tonight. Joel could always cancel, lie that he can’t make it after all… but then he remembered how hopeful and thankful you looked, and all his resolve was wavering again. He couldn't ever say no to you, even though he desperately wanted to.

He looked at his broken watch, sighing at the hour. He delayed the inevitable long enough, so with heavy steps he approached the bar at last. You asked him to go through the back door, for whatever reason, and he was too tired at the time to point out there’s nothing back there except for the kitchen and storage rooms. Whatever. You probably were already in the main hall, with your date, and either you were angry at Joel for being late, or not thinking about him at all. He wasn’t sure which one would be worse.

Once he stepped over the threshold, he carefully closed the door behind him. The racket from the bar was muffled here, but from the nearest room he could hear someone muttering. Joel swallowed heavily and cleared his throat to alert whoever was on the other side of the wall.

“Joel?” he heard your voice before you appeared in the doorway. At the sight of him your shoulders dropped and with confusion he noted that you didn’t look angry or disappointed – you seemed relieved. “Goddammit, finally you’re here. You took your sweet time, huh?”

Before he could answer, you walked forward and took his sleeve, half-dragging him behind you. Words of protest bubbled on his tongue, but they all died quickly when Joel saw the room you emerged from.

The storage shelves were decorated with fairy lights and in the middle of the room stood a small table with two chairs opposite each other. The only other source of light were a couple of candles on the table and around the room. There was food on the table – probably cold by now – and a bottle of wine. But most importantly – there was no one else in the room except for Joel and you.

While he was looking around like an absolute fool, searching for an explanation for this situation, you cautiously closed the door and walked around the man, coming to a stop by the set table with your hands clasped in front of you.

“...Well?” you asked after an uncomfortably long silence, letting out a nervous laugh. “What do you think?”

Joel blinked, not sure if you were talking to him.

“Where's the guy?”

You threw him a confused look, but truly, it was the only thing Joel could think of. He glanced around the room again, as if his mysterious competition was going to jump up from behind one of the shelves, but there was no trace of anyone else here.

“Your… your date,” he clarified after a moment and cleared his throat once more. A spark of understanding flashed in your eyes and you pressed your lips together. “It's late. Is he… He didn't set you up, did he?”

“That depends,” you finally answered softly, keeping your wary but hopeful eyes on him. “Are you finally gonna sit down?”

A cog clicked into its place in Joel's mind and he turned his head, not sure if he had heard you right. You smiled nervously and motioned to the table.

“The food’s probably cold by now, but I can heat it up. It’s your own fault, though, since I asked you to be here forty minutes ago–”

“I don’t…”

He didn’t understand. Nothing made sense, but he had to make sure, “So there’s no… there’s no date?”

You were clearly nervous, judging by the way you were fidgeting with your hands, but you sent him a shy smile nonetheless. “I mean, you’re here…”

Joel didn’t answer – frankly, he didn’t know what to say. So many conflicted emotions were swirling in his chest, blocking his throat from squeezing out even a sound. It created almost a physical pain between his ribs, especially when your eyes were still on him, so hopeful and patient.

After another pregnant pause, you let out a quiet breath and took a step forward, throwing him a lifeline since he clearly must’ve looked like an idiot. “There’s no one else coming, if that’s what you’re asking. I made all of this for you – for… us, maybe. I just…” You half-shrugged, and only now Joel realized how nice you looked, wearing a dress he never before saw you in, “didn’t know how to tell you.”

Joel swept his gaze over the room once more – the dinner, the lights, your pretty dress… and you. And it was all for him, apparently.

“Why?” he breathed, the weight of his age almost making him collapse to his knees. He desperately wanted to say something more profound than one word at the time, but his voice was failing him. Thankfully, you were always kind enough to fill in the silence.

“Why did I lie to you or why did I drag you here of all places?” You rounded the table, eyeing the decorations with a proud smile. “Well–”

“No, darlin’, why…” He shook his head. Everything felt too unreal, too sudden. And he felt so tired. “Why me?”

That made you pause and you turned to him with a surprised look, like what he just said was the last thing you expected to hear.

“What do you mean, why you?” you huffed incredulously, leaning forward against the back of the chair, and though you tried to look casual, the nervousness in the tension of your body was apparent. “You’re just… I mean, it must be pretty clear that I really like you… And I thought you might have felt the same. You know, with all the ‘darling’s’ and looking at me, and stuff…”

Was it a dream? You always looked like you were out of a dream, but something about this moment… the fairy lights, your shy demeanor, the words he never thought he’d hear from you… Joel didn't know if he was still alive or maybe that's what the afterlife looked like.

“...You could say something,” you half-joked with a trace of worry in your voice, obviously growing uncomfortable at his lack of reaction. “You know, Tommy only let me have this place ‘til midnight before they come by to restock the bar. We can at least eat and talk a little, right?”

“Did Tommy put you up to this?” Joel asked bitterly, unable to stop himself at the mention of his brother’s name. He recalled the look Tommy gave him earlier today, his excuses as to why he can’t come with him... What other explanation could there be for such a gorgeous, young woman to be interested in Joel of all people, if it wasn’t just a product of his kin’s poor humor? However, he instantly regretted asking you this when your soft smile disappeared altogether, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“You can just say if you don’t feel the same way,” you said dryly with an angry and hurt furrow on your brow. “No need to be a dick about it.”

You walked by him, apparently done with Joel’s accusations and grumpiness, but he quickly caught your arm before he could think better of it. You spun around, probably ready to tear into him, but he wouldn't hear a word either way – no while a vortex of doubts and questions raged in his mind. Joel didn’t know how or why you’d ever take interest in an old man like him, but he was now certain of two things.

One, you were telling the truth. For whatever reason, you really liked him – enough to plan and prepare a whole dinner date just for him.

And two, if Joel let you walk out now, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

You must’ve noticed the change on his face when his eyes flickered to your lips because you froze, the words of hurt and disappointment drying out on your tongue. Joel swallowed and wet his lips, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret on your face, but there was nothing in your eyes but pure, fragile anticipation. He delicately put his hand on the side of your face, the rough pad of his thumb brushing your cheek slowly. Your eyelashes fluttered closed and you let out a shaky breath, and that was all it took for Joel to lean down and press his lips to yours.

The kiss started delicate, but almost immediately turned into a fervent, hungry thing, which you ardently reciprocated. Joel wanted to take his time, to test the waters and build up the anticipation until you were ready to beg for him, but he didn’t expect just how fucking good kissing you would feel – and how eager you were for his touch. The smell of you, the feel of your hands on his chest and arms… it was driving him crazy with want, and without thinking twice, he spun you around and pinned your back against the edge of the table, making you whimper into his mouth.

“Goddammit, baby…” The term of endearment slipped out before he realized it, but judging by your reaction you didn’t mind at all. Your breath hitched, making him smirk to himself as he started to realize just how much power he held over you. It certainly shouldn’t excite him as much as it did. “Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”

“Joel, if you don’t stop questioning me…” you started, and although your words were firm, your voice leaned into a deliciously needy pitch, the kind of which he yearned to hear for far too long. Joel groaned into your mouth, moving down to press hot kisses against the line of your jaw and down your neck, greedily drinking in the noises you were making.

“Tell me, darlin’,” he asked in a low voice, experimentally running his palm up your thigh under the pretty dress you wore. The effect was immediate, and you pressed your body closer to him, seeking his touch the moment it left your skin. “I need to know if you really mean all this.”

“For fuck’s sake, Joel–” You made a surprised noise as he hoisted you up and onto the table, but it turned into another needy whimper when he knocked your knees apart and slotted himself between them with ease. You glanced behind you, worried that you'll push the silverware off the table, and Joel took this moment to resume the onslaught on your neck, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could reach. You choke back a moan as his touch made a shiver run up your spine. “Joel, please…”

“I need to hear it, sweetheart,” he murmured lowly against your skin, slowing down to tease you when he felt your heartbeat quicken up beneath his lips. “Need to make sure you know what you're gettin’ into.”

“I do, I promise,” you assured him fervently while your hands went to the back of his head, fingers tangling into his gray locks. “You have no idea how many times I thought about this. I wanted you for so long, Joel, please…”

“Wanted you, too, darlin’.” He put one of his hands on the small of your back, pulling your lower half closer to the edge of the table so you could feel what you were doing to him. “God, every time you smiled at me it was all I could think about… So kind and beautiful, never thought you'd look twice my way.”

You didn't bother to answer this time, instead angling his head up to kiss him deeply again. The doubt and fear were still present in Joel's mind, but he honestly couldn't focus on them with you in front of him. You were so warm under his palms, so pliant and eager, a literal putty in his steady hands. He could never imagine how incredible it felt to be wanted by someone so much, but at the same time he knew he had to take his time. As much as he wanted to keep going, to make you see stars and sing his name, it was more than just lust with you.

So when you reached for the buttons of his shirt, he gently grabbed your wrists and moved them away, finally regaining his self-control. You whined disapprovingly, but the crease between your brows quickly disappeared when Joel kissed your fingers softly, not taking his eyes off you.

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t rush,” he cood, earning a small disappointed pout. He had to close his eyes, lest he caved in. Fuck, the sight of you before him – your pupils blown wide, lips swollen from his ministrations, your heavy breath and the dress bunched around your hips… Joel was sure you’d let him do anything to you right now. And God, he couldn’t wait. “Let me do this properly, yeah? Have a nice date with you, then maybe take you home if you don’t change your mind…”

“We can skip the dinner,” you quietly offered, your breath still uneven and cheeks flushed. He huffed a laugh with fondness and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, his own breathing also slightly erratic.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured against your skin before taking your face in his hands. “Someone did say I’m a gentleman, no?”

You seemed to regret your previous choice of words, accentuating it with a disappointed whimper and a buck of your hips. Joel groaned and kissed you deeply again, almost able to taste all the impatience and desire on your tongue. Surprisingly, you didn’t fight him further and instead obediently slid off the table, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to be as close to him as possible.

Joel was grateful for this moment of calm before even more excitement – and he didn’t mind spending it by watching you, standing so close and smiling up at him as brightly as the sun itself.

“You believe me now?” you asked teasingly, stifling your giggles when Joel rolled his eyes playfully. “Good. You will have to make it up to me, then.”

Worry crept back onto Joel’s face, but you were quick to calm him down with a tender kiss to his jaw, and then another one lower, on his pulse point. “You were late. If you got here on time, we could’ve been doing this at least half an hour longer.”

Joel chuckled and lifted your chin with his finger, before kissing you briefly one last time.

“Baby, let’s enjoy the dinner you prepared, first. After that, I swear I’ll make it up to you in however many ways you want.”

Judging by your smile, you didn’t seem to mind at all.

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