fucking LOVE your writing like omfg teach me your ways!!đđ i was kinda hoping youâd be willing to be writing miller!reader x jesse?đđ maybe itâs like joel being woken up at like 2 am by noises coming from readerâs room so he goes to check up on reader and then just catches reader sneaking jesse into their roomđđ
caught in the act | jesse x reader
â§.* author's note : hiii guys !! iâm so sorry, but i will be busy today so i am only putting 2 fics out. i will try to put more out tomorrow !! tysm, inbox + requests are always open !
â§.* summary : when joel hears suspicious noises at 2 am, he catches his daughter sneaking jesse into her room, leading to a tense but heartfelt reckoning between an overprotective father and the boy who loves her. through awkward dinners, quiet conversations, and a carved wooden horse, joel ultimately gives jesse his blessing â in his own gruff, joel miller way.
â§.* word count : 2.8k
2:04 am â jackson, wyoming
joel miller was a light sleeper these days. the world didnât give him the luxury of deep sleep, not after everything he'd seen, done, and lost. so, when a floorboard creaked down the hall, his eyes snapped open instantly.
he laid still, listening.
another creak. quieter this time. thenâsomething muffled. like a whisper. like a giggle.
his jaw clenched. slowly, joel sat up in bed, his hand instinctively reaching for the revolver resting on the nightstand. but this wasnât the sound of danger. it was softer. familiar. young.
coming from your room.
joelâs daughter.
his biological daughter.
youâd come to jackson nearly two years ago, a girl hardened by the world but still carrying that spark in your eyesâso much like sarahâs it hurt sometimes. it had taken time, but the two of you had carved out something real. quiet dinners. shared patrols. sunday mornings fixing fences together.
he was protective of you. maybe too protective. but he didnât care.
and now, at two in the goddamn morning, someone was in your room.
he stood slowly, silent as death, padded barefoot across the hardwood. your door was closed. but the light from your lantern was flickering under the crack. and thenâanother sound.
a breath.
not yours.
joelâs nostrils flared.
he knocked once, hard.
you yelped. âshitâuh, just a second!â
joel opened the door anyway.
and there he was.
jesse.
half-kneeling on your floor, frozen like a deer in headlights. his hair was a mess, lips red, a guilty look painted all over his face. his boots were tucked beneath your bed. your shirt was crooked. the window was open.
joel blinked. once. twice.
you were already rushing forward, hands up. âdadâwaitâthis isnât what it looks likeââ
jesse coughed. âokay, itâs exactly what it looks like.â
joel glared. âyou better be real proud of that answer, son.â
you froze, heart slamming in your chest so loud you were sure your dad could hear it. jesse was still crouched on the floor like he hadnât figured out how legs worked. the room smelled faintly like the two of youâsweat, heat, something a little sweeter and messierâand the open window gave away everything joel needed to know.
his eyes flicked over the scene with slow, terrifying precision.
the window. jesseâs boots. your wrinkled shirt. the slightly tousled bedsheets. jesseâs flushed face.
and then, his eyes landed back on you.
âwant to explain,â joel said, low and gravelly, âwhat the hell is goinâ on here?â
you opened your mouth, but nothing came out. you couldnât lie to joel. you had tried once when you were fourteen, and he didnât talk to you for a week. not out of angerâbut disappointment. that was always worse.
you exchanged a look with jesse, who winced like heâd rather face a clicker naked in the woods than meet joelâs gaze again.
you swallowed hard. âi invited him over.â
joel blinked. slowly. âthrough the window?â
âi didnât want to wake you up.â
he stared at you for another long moment, then turned to jesse.
âand what, exactly, was the plan here, jesse?â joel asked. âyou were just gonna sneak in, spend the night, and sneak back out like some kind of goddamn teenager?â
jesse raised both hands like he was being held at gunpoint. âsir, iâi swear i wasnât trying anything bad. we just wanted to spend time together, thatâs all. talk. hang out.â
joelâs eyes narrowed. âhang out? at two in the morninâ? you got a curfew i donât know about?â
âno, sir. butâuhâi mean, weâve been seeing each other for a while now, soâŠâ
you let out a little breath like heâd yanked off the bandage for you.
joel stiffened.
âyouâve been what?â
you took a step forward. âweâve been⊠dating.â
joelâs jaw worked. he didnât yell. he didnât cuss. he didnât storm out. but the quietâthat bone-deep silence that came only when joel miller was trying very hard not to explodeâthat was somehow worse.
âi see,â he muttered. âand how longâs this been goinâ on?â
you hesitated. âfour months.â
that did it.
âfour months? youâve been sneakinâ around for four months under my nose?â he turned to jesse. âand youâyou thought it was a good idea to crawl through my daughterâs goddamn window in the middle of the night?â
jesse stood up slowly, hands still raised in peace. âi didnât want to disrespect you, sir. iâi was gonna tell you. we both were. i just⊠we didnât know how.â
joel stared at him for a long moment. then turned back to you.
âbed. now.â
âdadââ
he pointed. ânow.â
you opened your mouth, then sighed and dropped into your bed with a groan. jesse gave you an apologetic look, then turned to joel.
âiâll leave. iâm sorry.â
âyou bet your ass you are,â joel said, stepping aside to let jesse pass. ânext time you wanna see her after dark, you knock on the goddamn front door. you understand me?â
âyes, sir.â
joel followed him all the way to the front door, where jesse slipped out into the cold without another word. joel locked it behind him, then turned back toward your room.
you were sitting up now, arms crossed over your chest, jaw set.
âcan we talk about this?â you asked quietly.
joel came back in, slower this time. he sat down on the edge of your bed, ran a hand through his graying hair, and sighed like the weight of the world had settled back on his shoulders.
âyouâre my kid,â he said, finally. âi already lost one daughter. you think iâm gonna just sit back and watch someone crawl through your window like this is high school?â
âi know youâre just trying to protect me,â you whispered. âbut iâm not a little kid anymore.â
âyouâll always be my little girl.â
you looked away, throat thick.
âi care about him,â you said. âhe makes me feel safe. and seen. and heâs⊠heâs good to me, dad.â
joelâs expression softened just a hair. âhe better be.â
you offered a small smile. âhe is.â
joel stood. âno more sneakinâ around. you wanna see him, fine. but he comes through the front door. with respect.â
âyes, sir.â
he reached out, brushing a hand over your hair. âget some sleep.â
7:41 am â jackson town hall, front porch
jesse was already awake.
scratch thatâhe hadnât slept.
after joel miller stared him down like a man deciding whether or not to bury a body, jesse hadnât dared close his eyes. instead, heâd sat on the edge of his bed in his shared house, heart hammering, hands still trembling slightly.
now, he was standing outside town hall with two mugs of coffeeâone for him, one for maria.
she eyed him over the rim of her own mug as she stepped outside. âyou look like hell.â
âi feel worse,â he admitted, handing her the cup anyway.
maria raised an eyebrow. âlet me guessâthis has something to do with joel storming past my house at two in the morning like a man on a mission?â
jesse winced.
âyup.â
maria took a long sip. âso. what did you do?â
he rubbed the back of his neck. âitâs more about what we did.â
mariaâs brows lifted slightly.
âi was⊠uh⊠sneaking into her room,â jesse confessed. âand joel caught me.â
there was a beat of silence. then maria burst out laughing.
âyou tried to sneak into joel millerâs daughterâs bedroom? are you out of your goddamn mind?â
âin hindsight?â jesse muttered. âyes.â
she leaned against the porch post, shaking her head. âyouâre lucky he didnât put a bullet through your thigh.â
âi thought about jumping out the window.â
âyou shouldâve.â
jesse groaned, rubbing his face. âhe looked at me like iâd burned down his whole world.â
âbecause youâre not just dating any girl,â maria said gently. âyouâre dating his girl. his biological daughter. he doesnât have a lot of people left, jesse. you know that.â
âi know,â he said softly. âthatâs why i feel like shit.â
âyou should.â maria patted his shoulder, then offered a hint of a smile. âbut iâve seen the way you look at her. and iâve seen the way she looks when youâre around.â
he glanced up, hopeful. âyeah?â
âyouâre not going anywhere. joel will see that eventually. just donât sneak in through any more damn windows.â
âmessage received,â jesse muttered.
10:00 am â your house
you emerged from your room like you were stepping into a war zone. joel was already up, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and a hammer in hand, fixing something small and woodenâprobably one of ellieâs broken carvings.
he didnât look up when you entered. just nodded toward the counter.
âthereâs food.â
you grabbed a piece of toast and buttered it in silence. the room felt heavy. like you were both pretending last night hadnât happened.
but you were tired of pretending.
âi meant what i said,â you said, voice barely above a whisper.
joelâs hands slowed. he looked up.
âi care about him. iâm not just⊠messing around. jesseâs not like that.â
he met your eyes. âyou think i donât see that?â
you blinked. âso⊠youâre not mad?â
âoh, iâm still mad,â he said, setting the hammer down with a clunk. âmad that he disrespected the house. mad that you kept this from me. but iâm not mad that itâs him.â
you stared.
joel leaned back in his chair, sighing. âi may not act like it, but i pay attention. jesseâs a good kid. one of the only ones who stood by you when things got hard. when you came back from that rough patrol with ellie⊠he was the first one at your bedside. i remember.â
your throat tightened.
joel continued, quieter now. âheâs got a good heart. loyal. quick on his feet. justânext time? tell me. donât make me find out by walkinâ in on you two.â
âi wanted to,â you whispered. âwe just⊠werenât sure how.â
joelâs voice softened. âyou donât have to hide from me. iâm your dad. i might be a grumpy son of a bitch, but iâm always in your corner. you hear me?â
you nodded, eyes burning. âi hear you.â
he stood, ruffled your hair gently, and muttered, ânow go tell that poor boy heâs not banned from the house.â
you laughed, relief bursting like light through a window. âreally?â
âdonât make me regret it.â
1:12 pm â jackson garden area
jesse was halfway through stacking crates of produce when he heard your voice behind him.
âhey, trouble.â
he turned, eyes wideâand then softened with the smallest, most bashful grin.
âyouâre here. thatâs a good sign.â
you walked up and wrapped your arms around his waist without a word, just buried your face in his chest. jesse pulled you in instantly, arms tightening like he thought you might disappear.
âi thought he was gonna kill me,â he mumbled into your hair.
âhe almost did.â
âi deserve it.â
you looked up. âhe said youâre not banned.â
jesse blinked. âseriously?â
you nodded. âheâs mad. but not about us. he knows youâre good to me.â
jesse softened. âi love you, you know.â
you swallowed. âi know.â
you pulled him in closer, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt.
âi love you too.â
6:28 pm â your house, jackson
jesse stood outside your front door, holding a small paper bag in one hand and nervously tapping the fingers of the other against his thigh.
he looked like he was about to walk into an ambush.
because, in a way, he was.
inside was joel miller. the same joel miller whoâd caught him sneaking through a second-story window like a hormone-drenched raccoon just twenty hours ago.
the same man who could clean a rifle blindfolded, break a manâs nose in two seconds, and give silent disappointment like a death sentence.
the door creaked open, and you peeked out.
âhey,â you whispered with a crooked smile. âyouâre early.â
âi wanted to prove i know how to use the front door,â jesse said, holding up the paper bag like a peace offering. âi brought wine. well⊠itâs not really wine. itâs that fermented berry stuff maria makes.â
you giggled and stepped aside. âcome in. heâsâuhâon the couch.â
jesseâs posture tensed immediately. âgreat.â
ârelax,â you said softly, squeezing his hand as he stepped inside. âheâs trying.â
joel didnât get up when jesse entered. he was sitting on the couch, carving something into a piece of wood, glasses perched low on his nose. the fire crackled softly in the hearth.
he glanced up. then back down at the carving.
âjesse.â
âmr. miller.â
the air went tight. for about three seconds.
then joel sighed and gestured to the table. âfoodâs gettinâ cold. sit.â
jesse blinked. âwait, really?â
joel looked up again. âyou want me to change my mind?â
âno, sir.â
he scurried over.
you sat between the two men like a human buffer zone.
dinner was stewâhearty, warm, and made with actual fresh potatoes tommy had bartered for. youâd helped cook, which you hoped might earn you some daughter-points if things went sideways.
the first few minutes were silent. forks scraped. fire popped. jesse looked like he was calculating every move like it might trigger a landmine.
then joel finally spoke.
âso,â he said, not looking up. âyou two⊠serious?â
you nearly choked on your bite. jesse froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth.
âi mean,â jesse said carefully, âiâd like to think so. i care about her. a lot.â
joel slowly raised his eyes.
jesse sat up straighter. âiâm not playing games. i donât want anyone else. just her.â
you glanced at joel, who studied jesse for a long, hard moment.
then he hummed. âgood answer.â
jesse blinked. âreally?â
joel chewed, then nodded. âyou got guts, iâll give you that.â
jesse visibly relaxed. âthanks.â
âi still donât like the window thing.â
âunderstood.â
joel took another bite. âyou ever sneak into this house again, i will break your legs.â
âyes, sir.â
you sighed. âdadâŠâ
joel smirked faintly. âkidding.â
âare you?â
âmostly.â
7:18 pm â after dinner
you were washing dishes at the sink, joel drying. jesse offered to help, but joel grunted something about âearning your keep next timeâ and waved him to the couch.
he stood awkwardly for a second before walking to the fireplace, staring at the wooden carving joel had left on the mantle.
it was a horse. roughly shaped, but detailed. the mane curled just right.
jesse picked it up.
âthis is beautiful.â
joel looked up. ânot finished.â
âi didnât know you carved.â
joel shrugged. âonly when i got somethinâ on my mind.â
jesse turned the horse over in his hands, then looked at you.
âyou still have that little owl he made you?â
âof course i do,â you said, smiling. âitâs on my nightstand.â
joelâs ears turned slightly red. âdidnât think you kept it.â
âi keep everything you make me,â you said softly.
he didnât say anything to that. but the tiniest flicker of something passed over his faceâsomething softer. pleased. almost bashful.
8:00 pm â the couch
you and jesse were curled up together under a blanket. joel sat in his chair with a half-empty glass of that berry âwine,â legs crossed, his eyes flicking between you and the fire.
jesse had his arm around you, and you were nestled against his chest, legs folded beneath you. the fire was warm. the room smelled like cinnamon and old wood. and, miraculously, joel hadnât kicked jesse out yet.
joel finally spoke again.
âyou ever hurt her,â he said calmly, âi donât care how long youâve been in this townâi will send you packinâ.â
jesse nodded solemnly. âiâd let you.â
you poked him in the ribs. âthatâs not the right answer.â
âitâs the safe answer.â
joel cracked a grin. âsmart boy.â
you looked up at him, a slow smile forming. âyou like him.â
âdonât push it,â joel muttered.
jesse tried to hide his laugh in your shoulder.
8:37 pm â porch
jesse stood on the porch, your hands in his, moonlight brushing the tops of the trees behind him.
âi still canât believe i survived dinner with joel miller.â
âi think he likes you,â you whispered.
âhe threatened to break my legs twice.â
âyeah,â you said with a grin. âbut thatâs basically his way of saying âwelcome to the family.ââ
jesse leaned in, his voice softer now. âthen iâll take it.â
you kissed him slowly, sweetly, right there on the porch your dad built with his own hands.
inside, joel watched from the windowâeyes narrowed, but not angry. not anymore.
there was a little peace in his expression. a little quiet pride.
and maybeâjust maybeâa little trust.











