alloftheimaginesblog

[alloftheimaginesblog]

seeing sophia bush board the same flight as me was not on my bucket list but here we are

Brooke Davis was my faveeee growing up

[alloftheimaginesblog]

at world's edge - chapter twenty

plot: Cassidy 'Cass' Vega is losing the fight with herself and with the Infected when Tommy Miller finds her and brings her back to safety. There she finds a new purpose; to live. Along the way, she makes friends and starts to find herself falling for a man almost thirty years older than her.

character: female!OC x Joel Miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show)

cast: joel miller - pedro pascal, cass vega - adria arjona, ryan winnick - brandon sklenar

note: cass is 28, joel is 51, ellie and dina are 16/17, jesse is 19, ryan is 31, tommy is 46.

When Cass woke up the next morning, body stiff from being curled on her couch, she made a promise to herself. She wouldn't cry anymore. That was it. She had let herself be sad for one night. That was enough. She couldn't lose anymore parts of herself over him. Over Joel.

So, she showered. Changed. And left.

Cass did what she'd trained herself to do for the past twenty years: survive.

Get up. Breathe. Work.

She walked patrol. Helped mend a fence. Joined Jesse and the guys for a drink. Sat with Ryan at lunch, laughed at his dumb jokes. She laughed even when it felt like her ribs were cracked open and the world was still shaped like him.

But the guilt was the thing she couldn't shake. Not the sadness. Not the loneliness. It was the guilt.

Because Ellie hadn't spoken to her since Joel left.

And Cass knew. She knew it was her fault Joel was gone.

She walked across town that afternoon with purpose in her step and dread in her throat. She didn't want to be in Joel's house. She wanted to be as far away from anything Joel Miller related as she could but right now, she didn't have that option.

Because all of this sucked. But it wasn't just for her it sucked. It sucked for Ellie too.

Cass knocked on the door quickly before she could chicken out. The door creaked open. Ellie stood there, rubbing her eyes, she looked tired, "Hi," Cass smiled weakly.

Ellie stepped to the side and let Cass in. Cass tried to not think about the one and only time she stepped into the Miller residence, "Want a drink?" Ellie asked as she moved to the kitchen. Cass declined. Ellie poured herself water and took a sip, "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to apologise." Cass's heart was beating fast in her chest.

Ellie frowned, "For what?"

"For... everything. For being a mess. For almost leaving. For causing this." She swallowed, "It's my fault Joel left. He's running because he's scared of letting me in. I've been selfish because he didn't just leave me, he left you as well and I'm sorry."

Ellie watched her for a few seconds before she shrugged, "It's not your fault." When Cass pulled a face and went to speak, Ellie cut over her, "I mean, yeah he is running because of his feelings but that's not your fault. You didn't force him to fall for you or kiss you. You didn't make him feel what it is he's feeling... And you sure as hell didn't make him run, Cass. That's all him."

The pair were quiet, taking in the words Ellie said. It was Cass that spoke eventually, "Do you think he'll come back?"

Ellie nodded, "Yeah... Dunno when but yeah."

"Why?"

"He's got a tendency to do this. Freak out and run. He tried to abandon me here shortly after we came to Jackson. The thought of letting me in, treating me like his... When shit gets real, Joel gets scared. He didn't abandon me. Tried and then came back. He won't be gone long when his heart is still in Jackson."

"So you don't hate me?"

Ellie rolled her eyes, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "Nah, course not. You're my bud, Cass. I'm worried about him but I know he can hold his own and I also know that he'll be back. He promised."

Cass didn't ask anything else. Instead, the two sat in a comfortable silence for a while longer. She felt lighter; happier. Knowing Ellie didn't hate her, knowing Ellie believed he would come back caused a little spark of hope to ignite in her stomach.

She left Joel and Ellie's a while later. In her pocket, her fingertips danced over the note again. It didn't feel as heavy anymore.

Joel tightened his grip on the reins as his horse trudged through the mud, hooves sloshing in spring runoff. The wind wasn't harsh but it cut through the stillness with an eerie kind of clarity. The trees didn't care. They didn't care about regret, or mistakes, or about how far a man had to ride before the ache behind his ribs stopped clawing.

All Joel could hear was her.

He hadn't heard her voice in days but it didn't matter. It lived in his head now. The way she'd say his name - soft and like it meant something. The way she'd called after him once, weeks ago, when he brushed past her like she didn't matter. He hadn't turned. Couldn't. Would've broken if he had.

The stables. That damn kiss.

He closed his eyes for a beat. Tipped his head back, rain dripping from the rim of his hat, and exhaled all the air he had in his lungs. Why had he done it? When he knew that he wouldn't allow himself to love her like she needed to be loved. She was too young. Too good. Too everything. And Joel... Joel was a graveyard in a man's body. Wrecked from the years of loss. She deserved someone who believed in more than just surviving.

Ryan. Ryan could give her that.

He thought the note might help her. Might give her enough closure and finally put her on a different path, towards someone better. But even as he wrote it, his hands had shaken. And now? Now all he wanted to do was ride back and tear the damn thing up.

As he looked up to the darkening sky, it hit him that he was scared. Not of the infected. Not even of death. He was scared of going back. Terrified of seeing her face when she realised he'd left the note to wash his hands of her. That he'd abandoned her like she meant nothing.

Sarah, Tess, Ellie, Cass.

How many women did he have to push away before it sunk in that he was the problem?

Joel hadn’t slept in… hell, he didn’t know how long. Three days? Four?

His knuckles were split from a fall the day before, his shoulder ached from the last skirmish, and his goddamn boots were soaked straight through. The rain hadn’t let up since he left Jackson’s borders. The world was grey, drenched, and slick with mud. Every time his horse stepped wrong, Joel’s jaw locked tighter.

He hadn’t spoken in days. Not even to the mare beneath him. Just grunts. No one to talk to. Just his thoughts. And they were loud.

Cass’s laugh. The way she would lean her head back and laugh loudly when something really caught her off guard. The feel of her asleep in his arms. The look in her eyes when he kissed her in that damn barn. And worse - the one she’d given him when he shut it all down after. The hurt. The confusion. The disappointment. Joel blinked hard and rubbed a hand over his face. His beard was damp. Cold.

He was a coward.

Not for leaving Jackson. But for not saying goodbye. For the note - short and stiff and sharp-edged. For pretending he didn’t want her. He did. God, he did. But she deserved better. Better than a man who couldn’t sleep. Better than a man who still sometimes jolted awake convinced he’d lost Ellie again. Better than a man twenty years older with more ghosts than he knew how to carry.

So he rode. And rode.

Until the guilt numbed him out.

Until it got dangerous.

He was south of an old gas station when he saw the infected. Two of them. Clickers. Shambling but quick-footed.

Normally, this would’ve been easy. Knife to the base of the skull. Silent. Clean. But Joel hesitated. Just a second. His hand trembled.

Stupid.

By the time he raised the rifle, one had already caught scent. Snapped its head toward him with that jerking, unnatural movement. Then it screamed.

Joel backed up too fast - slipped in the wet grass. Landed hard. Pain lanced through his hip. The gun skidded down the incline. Out of reach.

He cursed. Drew his hunting knife. Too late. The first clicker was already on top of him, teeth chomping through the air, inches from his throat. His arms strained to keep its jaws away. Spit hit his cheek. Foul breath filled his nose. The second infected barrelled closer.

Joel grunted. Pushed. But his muscles were failing.

His strength was giving out.

And for one horrible second, he believed that he was going to die.

He closed his eyes and all he could think about was her.

Cass.

Her eyes, her voice. Her laugh. All of it slipping through his fingers. He was going to die. And he’d never told her.

Never told her he loved her.

And just like that, something in him snapped.

Rage, raw and hot, surged through his limbs. Joel shouted, twisted his arm, brought the knife up hard under the jaw. Drove it home.

The clicker collapsed on top of him with a gurgle.

The second was nearly there.

Joel kicked the corpse off, scrambled to his feet, blood smeared across his neck. He snatched up the gun, braced, and fired twice. The infected dropped mid-charge.

Silence. Rain.

Joel stood, panting. Shoulders heaving. Knees shaking. He stared at the unmoving corpses.

And then he said it aloud, voice breaking open: “… I love her.”

The rain picked up. He dropped the rifle to his side and closed his eyes. For the first time in days - maybe weeks - he felt something that wasn’t fear or shame. Resolve. He turned. Climbed onto the horse. Blood on his jacket. Mud on his knees. He didn’t care. He had to get back.

To Jackson.

To her.

He didn’t know what he’d say, or how he’d explain it, or if she’d even look at him without hate in her eyes. But he would show her that he wasn’t running anymore. And if she let him - just maybe - he could be the man she saw when she looked at him.

He kicked the horse into a gallop.

Cass was waiting.

He just prayed he wasn’t too late.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Tomorrow is the last full day of our Florida honeymoon :( we’ve had the best time and I’m not ready to go back to reality yettttt

[alloftheimaginesblog]

I just read 'Following in our footsteps' and I'm so in looooove 😭😭 the way you write I could literally see the children bickering and the way you convey the whole lighthearted atmosphere and then the change to the emotional part is just *chef's kiss* 🥺🥺🥺 it was like a movie playing in my head when I read it

Aww thank you so much! That’s so lovely to hear, such a nice compliment so thank you so much. Hearing things like this honestly make my day :) xxx

[alloftheimaginesblog]

If anyone has any requests for anything, send them in now! :)

[alloftheimaginesblog]

at world's edge - chapter nineteen

plot: Cassidy 'Cass' Vega is losing the fight with herself and with the Infected when Tommy Miller finds her and brings her back to safety. There she finds a new purpose; to live. Along the way, she makes friends and starts to find herself falling for a man almost thirty years older than her.

character: female!OC x Joel Miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show)

cast: joel miller - pedro pascal, cass vega - adria arjona, ryan winnick - brandon sklenar

note: cass is 28, joel is 51, ellie and dina are 16/17, jesse is 19, ryan is 31, tommy is 46.

Cass had only stepped into the kitchen to make tea, eyes gritty with a poor night's sleep, the kind of sleep where you wake more exhausted than you went to bed. She hadn't opened the curtains yet. Rain pattered on the windows. A familiar spring mist hung heavy over Jackson, the kind of damp that crept into everything - coats, shoes, bones. For a brief moment, she relaxed. Her bare feet padded across the wooden floor, stopping where something pale and creased peeked under the front door. She frowned. Bent. Picked it up.

She unfolded it slowly.

Unmistakably Joel's handwriting - bold, slanted, confident when it shouldn't be. Her heart sank as she read it.

Cass - I'll be gone for a while. Ryan's good for you. I'm sorry. Goodbye. - Joel

For a moment, she didn't move. Didn't dare to breathe. And then, with a strangled laugh, she pressed the note to her chest, head falling back on her shoulders. Her stomach flipped. Heart beat hard against her ribs. Tears burned her eyes. So much for feeling relaxed.

He was gone. Not just avoiding her gone. Gone gone.

She read the note. Twice. Three times. Four. Almost as though not believing what her eyes were seeing. Surely not. Surely he wasn't gone. Surely.

She dropped the note on the kitchen table, hands pressing onto her cheeks. He was gone. And this time, he'd decided to play martyr on his way out.

Ryan's good for you.

She wanted to scream, wanted to break something. How could he abandon her? Ellie? How could he do this? He was giving up, giving her up. After everything. Her mind went back to the time where she'd almost left, how angry he'd been at her for it. Hypocrite.

She didn't cry.

Not yet.

Instead, she sat at the kitchen table, note in front of her, and simply stared at it.

When she finally moved, it was early afternoon.

She changed, pulled shoes on, and left. Didn't bother with a jacket. She didn't really care if she got soaking. Being cold and wet meant she felt something other than the burning rage mixed with bitter sadness that settled into the depths of her stomach, dulling every other sense.

She found Jesse in the armoury cleaning weapons, "Tommy," was all she said. Jesse didn't ask, just told her where he'd be, and she was on her way again.

Her body moved on its own. Willing her to find Tommy. Find answers. And sure enough, she found Tommy changing the patrol board, scrubbing Joel's name from them. He looked up when he heard the sound of footsteps, blinked when he saw her - soaked, furious, wild-eyed.

"Cass-"

"Did you know?" She asked, voice tight.

Tommy closed his eyes for a brief second as he sighed, "Cass, I-"

"Did you know?"

Tommy didn't speak but he nodded.

"Goddammit, Tommy!"

"Cass, he- he thinks he's doing the right thing. He needs space."

She rolled her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to fall, "That's bullshit and you know it, Tom." She wiped at her eyes, refusing to allow herself to cry. Not now. Not yet. "He's trying to run and you- you let him! What about me? What about Ellie?!”

"I tried, Cass. I did. I swear." He shook his head, "You know what he's like... Stubborn. Scared. He ain't doin' it to hurt you."

"No," she whispered, "That's the worst part. He thinks it's a kindness."

Neither of them spoke for a moment, instead just stared at the other. Her chest heaved as emotion flooded every one of her senses. She knew it wasn't Tommy's fault. Knew that Joel was a stubborn asshole and a coward who ran when things got real. It wasn't Tommy's fault. It was Joel's. But Joel wasn't here and she needed someone to blame; someone to be angry at. Tommy was the next best thing.

“I’m sorry, Cass.”

“Fuck you.”

She turned on her heel, hair plastered to her face from the rain, and stormed off. Tommy called her name but she didn't turn. She kept going. Anger coursing through her veins, sadness burning a hole in her stomach.

She hated him.

She hated Joel Miller.

But the worst part was that she didn't.

Not even close.

Not even a little bit.

Cass didn't sleep the first night. She didn't even try. She sat up on the couch, legs curled under her, staring at the glowing ribbons of orange and yellow that danced in the fireplace. Her mind kept wandering to the night she stayed at Joel's. The way he'd looked at her. The softness in his voice. The hope she had that maybe things could work. The way she fell asleep to his guitar and his voice. She thought about the kiss. The way he made her feel like she was the single most important thing in the world and then, he pushed her away… again.

Rain pattered hard and persistent on the windows and the wind groaned through the trees. It should have been comforting. But it wasn't. Because all she could think about was that he was out there, somewhere in the wilderness. Alone. Cold. Hell, he could've been dead for all she knew.

He hadn't said goodbye. He hadn't spoken to her in weeks - with the exception of the night of the storm - not since the stables. Not since their kiss. Not since he'd touched her like she mattered and then recoiled from her like he'd been burned.

He was just gone.

Patrol, the note had said, but even Tommy didn't know if his brother was coming back. Ryan's good for you. She agreed, Ryan would be good for her. Ryan was safe. Comforting. Easy. If she let herself, she could fall in love with him. She knew that she could be happy with Ryan. Knew that he would cherish her, treat her right every day of the week. But she didn't want him. She wanted Joel and she didn't think that she would ever stop especially now.

Two days later, she still hadn't cried. She wouldn't. She refused.

Instead, she buried it.

Joel was running from his feelings. She could bury hers. Right?

She buried them with work. Routine. Anger.

Swung a machete at Infected like they were stand-ins for his face. Volunteered for every patrol she could. And when Tommy told her to go to bed that she'd done enough, she went and found something else to do. Stacked books in the library. Scrubbed dishes until her hands were red. Tended to the horses. Patched up a broken window pane in the greenhouse.

And it still wasn't enough.

Nothing was enough to make her stop thinking about how he kissed her. The warmth in his eyes. The quiet. The hunger.

She hated him for it.

She missed him so much it made her hate herself.

On the third night, she walked to the fence line. Alone. Stood there watching the trees shift and shiver in the wind. Listened to the soft churn of thunder somewhere far away. The spring storms were coming. She wondered if he was out there. Somewhere in the trees. Sitting by a fire. Was he okay? Was he thinking about her?

The note he'd left resided in her pocket. Heavy. Her fingertips found it and her stomach flipped, "Coward," she whispered into the wind, "You selfish, stubborn bastard."

Cass felt something in her splinter - something low and sharp and aching.

And for the first time in days, she let herself cry. Really cry. Wracking sobs that stole her breath, made her knees buckle, made her clutch the fence like it could keep her from falling.

She didn't want to hate him. But she didn't want to love him either. Either way she was going to get hurt and she had no control over any of it.

She barely heard the footsteps jogging over to her until the person was right behind her, "Cass?" She spun, hoping, praying. Maybe he was back. Maybe he'd realised what an idiot he was. Maybe he came back for her, "Cass?"

She tumbled forwards into the arms of Ryan who caught her easily and held her upright as she sobbed, "Come on," he murmured softly once her sobs quietened, "let's get you home."

Her hand found his as they walked. Not romantic. He knew that. It was more like an anchor. A way to ground herself to stop from spiralling again. They walked in silence. He didn't push. Glanced at her every few steps to see the silent tears spilling onto her cheeks. Ryan's heart ached. He hated seeing her like this. She was usually so strong and it was horrible seeing her so broken. He hated Joel Miller for doing this to her. But really, he hated the fact that it was Joel Miller she wanted. Not him. Never him. He knew he could make her happy. Could shower her with all the affection she deserved. He knew that, given time, he could knock down those walls. He could mend the broken parts of her. But she didn’t want that.

He unlocked the door using her keys that she pressed into his hand. Helped her inside. Sat her on the couch, blanket draped over her. Loaded the fire with new firewood and lit it. Made her tea and used a slightly stale loaf of Sal's bread to make her toast. He knew that she probably hadn't eaten much today.

Numbly, she accepted it. Nibbling at the toast and sipping the scalding tea.

He still didn't push her to speak. Instead, situated himself on the armchair across from her and watched her with sad eyes. She didn't speak until she'd finished the toast and drained the last few drops of tea, "Thanks." Her voice was hoarse from the crying.

"I tried to stop him."

Cass blinked. She turned to Ryan who looked crestfallen, "What do you mean?"

"He came to me, night he left." He sighed heavily, "Asked me to take care of you. Asked me to step in, be there for you; make you happy." Ryan's good for you.

"Oh." So Joel had the audacity to see Ryan before he left but all she got was a shitty note, huh?

"I tried to stop him. Told him that I'm not the one you want to be happy with. I'm not the one you're in love with." Cass winced ever so slightly at his words, "I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

Cass shook her head, "Not your fault. He's the one who left. Couldn't've stopped him anyway, he's a stubborn dick. Once his mind is made up, that's it." A beat passed, "Thank you. For trying. For this. For everything."

Ryan nodded, "I'm your friend, Cass, I'll always be here... How you feeling?"

"Tired," she said and as if on cue, she yawned widely, "Not been sleeping." Ryan could tell. The dark bags under her eyes were the giveaway. She hadn’t been eating much either, her cheeks were gaunt. Her eyes dead. Joel Miller had a lot to answer for.

"I'll get outta your hair then," he said as he stood. She wanted to ask him to stay. To sit with her until she fell asleep but that wouldn't be fair and she knew that, "You gonna be okay?"

"One day, yeah."

"That's the spirit." He smiled. He walked to her, planting a gentle kiss to her hair. Friendly. Comforting, "You're the strongest woman I know, Cass. You'll survive this." If she hadn't just dehydrated herself with all the crying, she would've been tearing up again but instead, she thanked him quietly and watched him leave her home.

It didn't feel as cold in her home now. Warmer. Less lonely.

Comforted by the fire, she sunk down onto the cushions and let sleep finally encapsulate her.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

at world's edge - chapter eighteen

plot: Cassidy 'Cass' Vega is losing the fight with herself and with the Infected when Tommy Miller finds her and brings her back to safety. There she finds a new purpose; to live. Along the way, she makes friends and starts to find herself falling for a man almost thirty years older than her.

character: female!OC x Joel Miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show)

cast: joel miller - pedro pascal, cass vega - adria arjona, ryan winnick - brandon sklenar

note: cass is 28, joel is 51, ellie and dina are 16/17, jesse is 19, ryan is 31, tommy is 46. this is from joel's pov, a wee switch up :)

Joel Miller was stuck.

He was in a position that he'd been trying to avoid ever since Cassidy Vega walked into Jackson. When she first arrived, he didn't trust her, didn't want to know her, didn't want to feel anything for her.

But that didn't happen.

He started to trust her, started to know her, started to feel for her and now, he was too far gone.

In a moment of weakness, Joel had kissed her and then he did what he always did when things got too real, he ran. He ignored her for weeks, broke her heart, broke his own too. He hated himself for doing that to her. What kind of man was he that he would do that. He was a coward.

Then she stayed the night at his house and although it was all innocent, she made him feel things that he didn't think he could feel again. She made him feel like a man again, not a monster.

And again, she reached out, wanting more. By no means was it a big ask, it was simple. She was asking for him; for his trust, for his heart. Yet, to him, it was more than anyone had ever asked of him before. And again, he ran.

Joel Miller was consistently one thing and one thing only.

A coward.

The rain was constant this time of year - not heavy, not storming. Just steady, soft showers that soaked the soil and turned the trails to mud. The kind of weather that made everything feel closer to the bone. Joel stood at the edge of the stables, saddle cinched tight under his gloves, watching the sky drip silver onto the treetops.

“Taking the Ridge trail?” Tommy asked, his voice low, leaning against the wooden post beside him.

Joel gave a vague grunt, brushing his thumb over the leather strap on his rifle. He didn’t look at his brother. He hadn’t looked anyone in the eye lately - not really. Ellie had long since given up trying to ask him about it. Every time she did ask, she was meant by silence or a gruff ‘leave it’. She knew the reason why he was acting like this but she knew better than to push it.

Tommy sighed. “How long this time?”

“Few days, maybe a week.”

“Joel.” Just his name, but it held a whole world of meaning. Disappointment, affection, concern. Frustration.

Joel finally looked up. Rain dotted the brim of his hat. His face was drawn tight. Sleepless. “I just need some space,” he muttered.

Tommy shook his head slowly. “No, what you need is to stop pretending you don’t care about her.”

Joel stiffened.

“Something happened between you two and instead of facing it like a man, you’ve been hiding in patrol rotations and pretending that she’s fine without you.”

“I ain’t pretending she’s fine,” Joel snapped. “I know she’s not. That’s the goddamn point.”

Tommy’s eyes softened. “You can’t outrun it, Joel. Can’t outrun her. She’s in your blood.”

Joel didn’t answer. What could he say? He didn’t know what he was doing. He just knew Jackson was too small when Cass was in it. The sight of her made his bones ache. He couldn’t walk the market square without catching the curve of her smile over someone else’s shoulder. Couldn’t pass the greenhouse without thinking of her hands buried in soil. Couldn’t not think about the day she had a panic attack. The way he had soothed her. The way she wore his jacket. And he sure as hell couldn’t walk past the stables without thinking about kissing her. About how easy she fit against him. About how quickly she melded into his kiss. It was killing him. She was killing him and she didn’t even know it.

And worse: she’d started laughing again.

He saw it from a distance one day - her with Ryan, a little too close, heads thrown back. Her laughter had always sounded like relief. And it gutted him. Because Joel had made her quiet. Joel had made her lonely.

And now she was moving on.

He didn’t blame her. He just couldn’t fucking bear it.

So here he was, day after day out in the thawing woods, pretending like running from her was the same as protecting her. Like putting distance between them somehow made her safer. But even there in the woods, with the trees opening up and the river in the distance, Joel still saw her. In every shadow. Every gust of wind. Every goddamn heartbeat.

He’d kissed her once. Just once. And now it was ruining him.

Tommy stopped beside him. “You care about her, Joel. I’ve seen it. Hell, everyone’s seen it. And whatever you're doing now? Avoidin’ her like she’s infected? It's not makin’ things better. Not for her. Not for you.”

“I can’t do this,” Joel said hoarsely.

“Why?”

“She’s too young.”

Tommy scoffed. “She’s twenty-eight.”

“I’m fifty-one.”

“So?” Tommy rolled his eyes, “You think she gives a shit about that?”

Joel sighed, “It’s not just the age. It’s me. I can’t give her what she wants. What she deserves.”

Tommy was quiet for a long time. Then he sighed and said, “You know what I think? I think you’re scared. And you think if you keep pushin’ her away, eventually that fear’ll stop eatin’ you alive. But guess what—it won’t.”

Joel shook his head, trying to dismiss it, trying to stuff it down the way he always did. But something cracked.

He turned to Tommy, voice low, rough. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about her. She’s in my head when I wake up. When I go to sleep. I look at the porch steps and I see her there with coffee. I hear her laughing with Ellie and it… it does something to me I can’t explain.”

Tommy’s expression softened. “So do something about it.”

“I can’t.” Joel swallowed, “That’s the problem.”

Tommy eyed him a long beat. “You need to clear your head?”

Joel nodded once, "That's why I need to go."

"Fine." Tommy said, "Few days, maybe a week." Tommy looked at him but Joel avoided his brother's stare. Tommy understood then. Understood why his brother wouldn’t meet his eyes, understood the circles under his eyes. He asked quietly, "Are you coming back?"

Joel’s voice was almost a whisper, “I don’t know.”

The younger Miller brother shook his head, rubbing a hand over his jaw, "Gotta tell them." When Joel's brow furrowed, Tommy answered, "Cass and Ellie. You need to tell them you're going."

That evening, Joel found Ellie on the porch steps, strumming his guitar. She looked up at him, arching a brow, “You okay, old man?”

He sat beside her, wincing a little at the stiffness in his back. “I’m headin’ out tomorrow. Patrol by the river. Few days.”

Ellie paused, “You’re running away from her.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose. “You’re not subtle, are you?”

“Never been accused of it.”

Silence settled. Joel looked out at the dark sky. Spring had well and truly sprung. Pockets of flowers sprouted in the lawns opposite their home. Peaceful. Beautiful.

Ellie’s voice was quieter this time when she spoke, “I know you think you're doing the right thing but... you're giving up on your chance at happiness. Love.”

Joel didn’t respond.

Ellie continued, more gently, “You’re allowed to be happy, Joel.”

“I don’t know how anymore.”

“Well,” she said, nudging his arm, “you could start by not being a dumbass.”

A dry chuckle escaped him.

She looked at him sidelong. “You’ll come back, right?”

Joel’s jaw tightened.

“Joel.” He glanced over at her. His face was unreadable. Ellie reached over and touched his arm. “You have people here. You have me. Don’t disappear.”

Something in him cracked again. He looked away. “I’ll be back,” he said finally. “I just need a little space.” She nodded, even though she didn’t fully believe it before she said she was going to make dinner.

Joel sat there with her a while longer, listening to the wind. Thinking about the weight of Cass’s eyes, the way her fingers had curled into his collar, the warmth of her breath against his neck in the barn.

He didn’t know if space would fix anything. But he knew staying was tearing him apart.

Joel knew that he should have gone to see her. To Cass. He owed it to her to tell her but he knew that if he went to her door and if she asked him one more time, if she looked at him with those big eyes one more time and said please... he would crumble.

So, he went to see Ryan Winnick.

The stable was quiet except for the soft rustling of hay and the occasional snort from a restless horse. Ryan was brushing down a saddle when the stable door creaked open. He looked up, expecting one of the usual patrol guys, but instead was surprised to see Joel Miller standing in the dim light, his face harder than usual.

Joel didn't say anything at first. Just stood there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, eyes watching Ryan like he was measuring him up.

Ryan's brow furrowed, "Joel," he said eventually, "what can I do for you?"

"I'm going on a patrol, few days, maybe a week. Maybe longer."

Ryan nodded slowly, "When?"

"Morning."

"I'll get a horse sorted for you if that's what you're here for."

Joel swallowed, his heartbeat hammered in his ears, "I... That's not why I'm here." Ryan went to open his mouth, went to question him, but Joel got there first, "Cass."

Ryan's mouth closed. His furrowed brow deepened, "What about her?"

"She's going to need you."

"Why? Thought you were only going for few days?" Joel's face hardened and Ryan blinked in surprise, "Oh."

"You make her happy, I've seen the two of you together-"

Ryan shook his head, "Joel, me and Cass, we're friends. That time I stayed at hers-" Joel's jaw clenched and feathered, "nothing happened. I don't know what you think me and her are but we're just friends."

Joel shook his head, "Doesn't matter. She cares about you. You very obviously have feelings for her." Ryan nodded, unashamed of the way he felt, "You make her happy. I... I can't leave without knowing that she's going to be okay. That she's going to be happy."

"I can make her happy." Ryan agreed, "But we both know that she doesn't want to be happy with me. I'm not the one she's in love with." Joel's jaw tightened, his Adam's apple bobbed, and for a moment his eyes flickered with something raw - pain, regret, maybe even jealously. Ryan continued, "You're the one she watches when you're not looking. Yeah she might have some kind of feeling for me but she loves you."

He didn’t want to hear it. It make his stomach churn, made guilt coarse through his veins hearing about her and how she felt. He shook his head, "She deserves to be happy. If you can give her that-"

"Joel." Ryan cut off gently, "She deserves to be happy with the person she wants to be happy with."

Joel looked away, throat burning, heart hammering, "She's going to have to learn to be happy with you. Keep her safe, Winnick."

Ryan went to speak again but Joel had already turned and left the stables, boots heavy in the wet earth.

He couldn't sleep. He rarely could these days. Not since she'd stayed over. He couldn't sleep for thinking about that night. Her in his clothes. In his bed. In his arms.

Joel paced his porch. Smoked half a cigarette and threw the rest into the puddles. He couldn't leave her. Not like this. He had to do something. A goodbye. Maybe that would help him get over her. Maybe it would give him enough closure that he could move past her.

He found a scrap bit of paper in his kitchen drawer. Torn on one side and smudged with coffee on the other. He wrote with a heavy hand.

Cass - I'll be gone for a while. Ryan's good for you. I'm sorry. Goodbye. - Joel

He folded it and walked the muddy paths to her home in silence. Her house was in darkness. He didn't let himself think about her in there, curled asleep in her bed. Didn't let himself think about the possibility she would be wearing his clothes that she hadn't given back. Didn't think about her.

He slid the note under her door and didn't let himself hesitate. He walked away and he didn't look back.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

On the plane watching The Last of Us to keep that Joel fascination going lmao

[alloftheimaginesblog]

at world's edge - chapter seventeen

plot: Cassidy 'Cass' Vega is losing the fight with herself and with the Infected when Tommy Miller finds her and brings her back to safety. There she finds a new purpose; to live. Along the way, she makes friends and starts to find herself falling for a man almost thirty years older than her.

character: female!OC x Joel Miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show)

cast: joel miller - pedro pascal, cass vega - adria arjona, ryan winnick - brandon sklenar

note: cass is 28, joel is 51, ellie and dina are 16/17, jesse is 19, ryan is 31, tommy is 46.

Cass made a rule that morning — no Joel.

Not in words, not in thoughts, not in the way her chest tugged every time she passed the stables or caught sight of the patrol boards. She wasn't going to look for him, wasn't going to ask Tommy if he was back, wasn’t going to check the mess hall for the quiet, brooding silhouette she used to be able to sense before seeing.

No Joel, she repeated like a prayer, gripping the edge of the counter as she took a sip of bitter tea.

She had a house now. A home. And it looked exactly like it didn't belong to anyone yet. The walls were bare and the whole place smelled like old dust and pine from the stack of firewood she hadn't yet touched.

Cass stepped outside and closed the door behind her, locking it like that might also trap her thoughts inside. She had a perimeter patrol with Tommy. She could handle that. That was easy. Tommy was easy. He wouldn't push her to speak about Joel, probably wouldn't mention his own brother unless she brought him up first. She could do this.

Tommy found her near the northern gate, one boot propped against the fence post, arms crossed like she might keep herself from falling apart if she held tight enough.

“You settlin’ in okay?” he asked, voice warm but careful.

Cass nodded. “Trying.”

“You gettin’ the hang of Jackson life?”

“I haven’t fallen off a horse in at least a week.”

Tommy chuckled. “Well, hell. You’re practically one of us.”

She smiled faintly. She liked Tommy. He didn’t treat her like glass.

They walked together, patrolling the inner perimeter, talking about small things — a busted pipe on Main Street, the latest crop yield, what winter prep would look like.

Not a single mention of Joel. And Cass was grateful. She liked that Tommy didn’t mention it, didn’t force her to have a conversation that she wasn’t ready for. Instead, just casual things. Simple things.

Before they split, Tommy paused and gave her a sidelong glance. “You ever need anything, Cass… you know where to find me, alright?”

She nodded. “Thanks, Tommy.”

Later that afternoon, Ellie and Dina showed up at her front door with arms full of supplies and hearts full of mischief.

“We’re here to rescue your sad excuse for a house,” Dina announced, barging in without waiting.

Cass blinked. “Is it that bad?” It was true. She’d been in Jackson for weeks and yet, her home stood barren and bare as though she was a temporary lodger. Which she’d assured Ellie and Dina numerous times that she was staying.

“Yes,” Ellie said. “Desperately.”

She didn’t stop them. Not when they pushed the furniture around or started hanging blankets for makeshift curtains. Not when Dina convinced her to repaint one of the kitchen chairs bright yellow because “everyone needs something cheerful.” Not when Ellie found an old record player and insisted on blasting music while they worked. Cass found a new record that she liked from an unknown band. The record skipped at some points but for the most part it was perfect.

Ellie had brought books, slotting them onto the bookshelf to round her total up to 7 books. They ate sandwiches on the floor and drank lukewarm cider while Ellie tried to teach her how to braid rope for curtain ties.

Cass laughed more that day than she had in weeks. For a while, it felt like she could forget the way his eyes used to flick to her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Or the way her name sounded in his voice. The way he had kissed her. So desperately.

And when the girls finally left her alone, house a little warmer, a little fuller — she let herself sit in the middle of the floor and take a long, slow breath.

She’d been surviving for so long, always waiting for the next thing to be taken from her. Now, for once, something had been given. But no matter how hard she tried to root herself in that truth — to feel steady — there was a ghost still tugging at the edge of her thoughts.

His name sat behind her teeth, unsaid.

His face, behind her eyes, uninvited.

She stood, lit the fire, and tried to lose herself in the comfort of her own making.

The next morning she had a patrol with Jesse and Tommy. The mud was thick on the ground from the rain but the blood was thicker.

It had been a hard patrol. A small hoard of Infected. An ambush of about 12 raiders.

They'd survived. Her shoulder, which had felt better that morning, was now throbbing in agony. They were bruised with a couple gashes from the raider's knives but nothing that would kill them.

Not today.

Cass wiped her knife clean on the grass, breath loud in her ears as she cleaned off the blood. Her jacket was damp with sweat, blood and rain. The day had been long, brutal. One ambush too many. One scream too loud.

Tommy tossed her a look as he checked the last body. “You alright?”

She nodded. “Fine.”

Jesse muttered, “Famous last words,” before kicking dirt over a blood trail.

They rode hard and didn’t speak much after that, the silence heavy in the cold air. It wasn’t until they were back at the gates of Jackson — warm light spilling from the windows of the Tipsy Bison — that Cass finally exhaled.

Jesse caught her arm as she swung down from her horse. “You earned a drink.”

Cass raised an eyebrow. “One drink?”

He smirked. “Let’s start with one.”

The bar was already half full when they arrived, laughter humming low through the air. The smell of food and whiskey hit her first, then the clink of glasses and someone strumming a guitar lazily in the corner.

It felt like stepping into a different world.

A better one.

Cass pulled off her coat, tossing it over a chair. Her limbs were sore, bruises blooming under her skin, but she felt alive. Her shoulder was stiff but the pain, she was used to, it was workable. Survivable.

Tommy ordered the first round, slamming three glasses of amber liquor on the table. “To not dying.”

They clinked. Cass downed hers in one go. It burned like hell — she welcomed it.

Then came the second. Then third.

Voices blurred around the edges. Someone joined them — Caleb from outer patrol. Then Ruth. Then a few others. Cards appeared. So did more whiskey.

She felt great. The pain numbed. She started telling jokes, joining in on conversation. Laughed as she got teased. It was easy. It was fun. Cass didn’t know when she started laughing so hard her cheeks hurt. Jesse was doing impressions of Maria, and even Tommy — usually the more reserved of the two brothers — nearly spat out his drink.

Music started up again, louder now. Someone shouting requests. Bodies swaying. The low thump of boots against wood.

Cass was two drinks past her limit when Caleb grabbed her hand with a grin.

“Come on. Dance with me, raider girl.” She rolled her eyes at that stupid nickname they'd given her when she first came to Jackson.

She groaned. “Caleb, I'm not-”

“Good,” he said, pulling her up anyway. “I'm not interested in you either. I know you're Joel's girl anyway.” Her cheeks burned but she was too drunk to hold onto that comment, too drunk to remember it. So she started dancing.

There was no heat to it, no flirtation. Just a circle of movement and rhythm, boots scraping the floor, laughter in her ears as someone else twirled past them, half-spilled beer and swinging arms. Cass stumbled once, caught herself on Caleb’s chest, then laughed harder than she had in months.

Everything felt fuzzy and warm and fine. It felt good.

Which is why she didn’t notice the way the air shifted. Didn’t hear the scrape of the door swinging open behind her. Didn’t feel the eyes on her until she turned during a clumsy spin — and saw him.

Joel.

Leaning just inside the door. Staring.

Not blinking.

His arms crossed over his chest, jaw clenched so tight she thought his molars might shatter. He wasn’t dressed for patrol. His hair was still damp, maybe from a shower. His eyes — dark, storm-heavy — locked onto hers like she’d slapped him.

Cass froze mid-movement. Caleb’s hand still loosely on hers.

Joel’s lip curled slightly.

And then he turned and walked out.

And just like that, she was right back to square one.

She found him ten minutes later behind the stables, pacing like a caged animal. The whiskey hummed in her bloodstream but the buzz was gone — sobered by the weight of his stare and the bitterness in her throat.

“What the hell was that?” she snapped.

Joel turned on her, eyes sharp. “I should be askin’ you that.”

“Ask me what?” Her voice rose. “Why I was dancing? Why I was living?”

“You were drunk.”

“Yeah. I was. It’s been a shit day, Joel.”

“With your hands all over some idiot?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I saw you.”

“You saw what you wanted to see.” Her voice cracked, breath steaming in the cold. “You saw me laughing and being close to someone not you, and it pissed you off.”

Joel stepped closer. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“I think I do.”

He said nothing.

The silence was worse than the shouting.

Cass crossed her arms tightly. “You don’t get to shut me out for weeks, treat me like I don’t exist, let me stay at yours, carry me to your bed, ignore me again, and then get jealous because I danced with someone.”

“I ain’t jealous.”

She laughed, bitter. “You’re a liar.”

Joel’s jaw flexed. “You don’t get it.”

“Then help me understand.”

He looked at her like he wanted to — like something sharp and real was clawing at the back of his throat — but he swallowed it down.

His voice came quiet. “You don’t know what you’re askin’, Cass.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I’m not asking anything, Joel. I stopped. You made it clear. I'm done, Joel. I'm over- I'm over whatever the hell this is. I tried and you've made it so perfectly clear that you don't want me so... I'm done.”

And still — still — they stood there in the quiet dark, the barn lights throwing gold halos over his shoulders, the ache thick between them. Emotions flashed across his face. Hurt. Sadness. Anger. Regret. But he didn't speak. He didn't dare say anything.

Cass finally turned away. “Next time, just keep walking.”

The light hurt.

Cass cracked one eye open and immediately groaned, rolling over and dragging the pillow over her face. Her mouth was dry, head pounding like a drum, and the taste of cheap whiskey clung to the back of her throat like regret.

She didn’t remember getting home.

She didn’t remember taking off her boots.

But her jacket was hanging neatly by the door, her socks tossed on the edge of the bed, and a half-full glass of water sat on the nightstand. She must’ve done it. Or maybe someone helped. She didn’t know.

What she did remember—unfortunately, painfully—was the look on Joel’s face when he saw her dancing. That flash of something close to betrayal. The look on his face when she told him that she was done.

She groaned louder and threw the pillow across the room.

A knock startled her.

She didn’t move.

“Cass,” came Ellie’s voice through the other side of the bedroom door, far too chipper for the hour. “Are you awake now?” Another knock. Then, without waiting, the door creaked open and Ellie peeked inside, holding a thermos in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. “You alive?”

Cass pulled the blanket over her head.

“Great,” Ellie muttered, stepping fully inside. “Just what I want to deal with at 9 a.m. — a moaning corpse.”

Cass peeked out. “If you keep talking, I’m going to die for real.”

Ellie tossed the bag on the bed and set the thermos down beside it. “Hydrate, bitch.”

Cass sat up, looking at Ellie confused. Ellie explained that she'd gotten here an hour ago, found the door hanging open with Cass's boots and jacket strewn across the furniture in the living room, "Thought I'd tidy up and wait and make sure you didn't die."

Despite the pounding in her skull, Cass snorted, squinting against the light. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Oh, immensely. Dina said you looked like you were about to declare war on gravity by the end of the night.”

Cass took a cautious sip of the tea. It was hot, herbal, and blessedly quieting the riot in her stomach. “Please don’t tell me I danced more than once.”

Ellie smirked. “Jesse said you were a hit.”

Cass closed her eyes. “I hate everything.”

“Don’t worry. You weren’t that bad. Tommy got so drunk he tried to convince Ruth he invented snow.” Ellie flopped onto the foot of the bed. “But yeah… you danced. A lot. Looked like you were having fun, though.”

Cass stared at the tea. “Yeah. I was.”

“And then Joel walked in.”

Cass winced.

Ellie watched her. “He didn’t say much. Just came home and slammed a cabinet so hard I thought he broke the door.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Cass said quietly.

Ellie nodded. “No. You didn’t.”

“But it felt wrong.”

Ellie tilted her head, picking at a thread on her sleeve. “Because you wanted him to be the one dancing with you?”

Cass didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Ellie leaned back on her elbows. “He’s got issues. Layers like a fucking onion. But I know he cares about you.”

Cass laughed bitterly. “Then he has a funny way of showing it.”

“Yeah, well. That’s Joel. He pushes the people he gives a shit about the hardest.”

Cass stared into her tea.

“I’m just tired,” she said. “Tired of guessing. Of feeling like I’m the only one bleeding.”

Ellie’s voice softened. “You’re not.”

Silence settled between them for a while. The only sound was the wind rattling against the glass.

“C’mon,” Ellie said eventually. “Let’s get you some real food. Dina made soup. And Jesse wants to tell you the story about how you almost convinced Caleb to propose to that girl from the stables.”

Cass blinked. “I what?”

“Oh yeah.” Ellie grinned. “It was glorious.”

Cass groaned again, this time with a hand over her face. “I am never drinking again.”

“You say that,” Ellie sang, already dragging her toward the door, “but you said it last month after cards night.”

Cass let herself be pulled, reluctantly amused. The headache still throbbed, and her heart still ached — but the warmth of Ellie’s banter, the comfort of her friends, the routine of a life she was still building — it helped.

Just enough.

Even if Joel haunted every corner of it.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

hi sorry i've not been posting much, we go on our honeymoon in a couple days and i've just finished work (for the summer) so it's been a bit manic xxx

[alloftheimaginesblog]

So happy to see you writing again! Love and appreciate your work! Stay amazing! 🤗💗

thanks so much, angel! :)

feels good to be writing again, i've missed it and i've missed the blog! so long may it continue xxx

[alloftheimaginesblog]

hi beautiful author;)) does that mean in the future we won’t see cases getting pregnant with Joel?

Nope, Cass won't get pregnant (which is probs highly unlikely bc contraception isn't readily available during the end of the world) but i don't see her wanting kids and as someone who doesn't want kids, i don't want to write about all that for mental health reasons but no, cass won't get pregnant xx

[alloftheimaginesblog]

I’m about to start on chapter eleven

— you’re writing is truly so good I’m hooked! Came across this

And it truly breaks my heart— I’m so sorry that you had to go through that! I don’t even know you and I felt myself tearing up for you because it’s not easy being told you can’t have something — even when you didn’t want it to began with.

thanks so much! i've had writer's block for a long time/felt very insecure about my writing recently but feel very inspired and feel like i'm creating some of my best work with At World's Edge so that means a lot thank you! :)

yeah so i've never wanted children - i work with kids, i'm a nursery teacher - im a great auntie but ive never wanted kids of my own but that's my choice and being told that now, i've been advised to not have kids and that i would potentially risk future children and my own life if i were to have kids and that pregnancy for me is a 'medical impossibility', it broke my heart because my choice has been taken away from me. even though i dont want kids it destroyed me for a few weeks because my choice suddenly wasn't my choice anymore and i was being told what i can and cant do. it sucks, my mental health has suffered immensely because of it i'll be honest. i just cried every day multiple times a day - during work, at home etc - for weeks. i was told in april so 2 months ago and it's still hard, though i can talk about it without bursting into tears lol, but yeah, it's been hard going but i'm beginning to accept it slowly but surely. thank you for your message, it honestly means so much to me. xxxx

[alloftheimaginesblog]

at world's edge - chapter sixteen

plot: Cassidy 'Cass' Vega is losing the fight with herself and with the Infected when Tommy Miller finds her and brings her back to safety. There she finds a new purpose; to live. Along the way, she makes friends and starts to find herself falling for a man almost thirty years older than her.

character: female!OC x Joel Miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show)

cast: joel miller - pedro pascal, cass vega - adria arjona, ryan winnick - brandon sklenar

note: cass is 28, joel is 51, ellie and dina are 16/17, jesse is 19, ryan is 31, tommy is 46.

Cass woke slow.

Warm. Safe. Confused.

The sheets smelled like cedar and something deeper, something his. For a moment, before memory clicked in, she thought she’d woken from a dream. Her fingers curled into the edge of the pillow, soft and worn from use. The cotton of the t-shirt she wore hung loose over her skin.

Then she blinked.

This wasn’t her room.

The muted gray light of early morning bled through unfamiliar curtains. The bed creaked when she sat up, blanket slipping from her shoulders. Her boots were still neatly placed near the dresser. Her jacket folded on the chair.

Joel’s room.

Joel’s bed.

Joel's clothes.

Shit.

Cass rubbed her eyes and swung her legs over the side, heartbeat crawling up her throat. She vaguely remembered tea. The couch. His voice, low and rough, the soft strum of guitar. She remembered warmth. But how the hell had she ended up in his bed? Had she fallen asleep on the couch? She didn't remember coming to bed herself so she must have and he must have carried her.

She shuffled out into the hall, bare feet cold against the wood, and followed the smell of coffee.

Joel stood in the kitchen, already dressed, pouring eggs into a cast iron pan. He looked like he’d been up for hours. Stiff lines at his shoulders. Jaw tight. Focused too hard on scrambling eggs like it required military precision.

He glanced at her once, and Cass caught the flash of something in his expression. Relief, maybe. Guilt. Want.

She couldn't tell.

“Morning,” she said cautiously, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over her hands.

“Sleep okay?”

“...Yeah. I think so.” She hesitated, watching the curve of his shoulders. “Did I… fall asleep on the couch?”

“Yeah.”

“So how’d I end up in your bed?”

Joel didn’t look at her. Just flipped the eggs, scraped the edges of the pan.

“You nodded off,” he said finally. “Figured the bed was more comfortable than the couch.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “You, uh… carried me?”

He grunted. The non-answer answer.

Cass rubbed the back of her neck, awkwardness crawling under her skin. “Right. Okay. Well… thanks. For not letting me crumple on your couch like a dead thing.”

Joel slid the eggs onto two plates without responding, then poured coffee into mismatched mugs. When he handed her one, their fingers brushed.

Just a touch.

It buzzed like static through her whole arm.

They sat at the table in silence, the scrape of fork tines and the occasional creak of the chair filling the space. Joel didn’t eat much. Mostly pushed food around like he was trying to avoid conversation.

Cass watched him from beneath her lashes. His jaw was locked, beard a little more silver in the morning light. He looked tired. Haunted, maybe. Or maybe that was just how she always saw him now.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re doing it again,” she said, voice soft.

He didn’t look up.

“Pushing me away,” she clarified.

Joel stood abruptly, grabbing his mug and draining its contents into the sink. “Ain’t nothin’ to push.”

Cass pushed back her chair and stood too, crossing her arms. “Really? You’re gonna pretend last night didn’t happen? That you didn’t carry me into your bed like I was something worth taking care of?”

His shoulders hunched.

“You kissed me, Joel. In the stables. Or did you already forget that too?”

“That was a mistake,” he muttered.

Cass flinched.

He winced like he hadn’t meant to say it that way.

“Right.” She laughed once, no humor in it. “Of course it was.”

She stepped back, turned toward the door. Her stomach twisted. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t chase him anymore. That she’d stop waiting for scraps of kindness and warmth like they meant something.

But still, she paused at the threshold.

“So what?” she asked, voice breaking a little. “We just go back to ignoring each other now?”

Joel was quiet for a long beat.

Then he sighed, barely audible over the hum of the fridge.

“Easier that way,” he said.

Cass nodded. Swallowed the ache behind her teeth.

“Okay.”

She opened the door and stepped into the cold morning air, hoodie sleeves still pulled over her hands, the scent of him still clinging to her skin.

He didn’t stop her.

He never did.

The door clicked shut behind her, and Joel stood motionless in the kitchen, staring down at the mug she’d left on the table.

Steam still curled from it.

She hadn't finished her coffee.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, slow, dragging fingertips through his beard like maybe the sting in his jaw would distract from the weight in his chest.

Goddamn it.

She’d been standing there — eyes sharp, voice quiet, but hurt shining in every edge of her — asking him the one question he couldn’t answer without unraveling.

So what? We just go back to ignoring each other now?

It would’ve been so easy to tell her the truth.

That he hadn’t slept a full night in weeks thinking about her. That carrying her into his bed last night had shaken something loose in him — something he hadn’t let himself feel in years. That seeing her in his clothes, curled up on his damn pillow, had made something in him ache so deep it terrified him. That the mere thought of her was enough to make him rock hard.

But instead of saying any of that, he gave her the only answer he knew how to give:

Easier that way.

Joel exhaled through his nose, low and sharp. The silence of the house felt louder with her gone. Her ghost was still in the hall. Still curled on his couch. Still soaking into the worn cotton of the hoodie she wore — his hoodie — sleeves too long on her arms.

He moved back toward the bedroom before he could stop himself. The bedsheets were still wrinkled from where she’d slept. Her clothes, still wet from the night before were draped over radiators. She hadn’t even pulled the blanket up all the way. Her scent lingered faintly — his soap, his shampoo, something warmer and softer underneath it all.

He gritted his teeth and sat on the edge of the bed like a man cornered.

This wasn’t about her.

Not really.

Cass was— hell, she was bright. Sharp-tongued. Capable and kind and full of damn fight. She walked into a room and made it feel more alive. And even when she was breaking, she still had this way of being honest that made him feel seen in a way that was too much. Too much for a man like him.

Too young, he’d told her once. You’re too young to understand.

But that wasn’t it, not really.

The truth was, she understood too well. She understood him. Saw right through all his muttered gruffness and armor.

And that made her dangerous.

Joel stood, restless. Paced the room like the walls were closing in. He looked at the guitar in the corner and had to turn away from it, from the memory of her curled up beside him, asking for music like it meant something.

He didn’t deserve that kind of softness.

Not from her.

Not after all the things he'd done.

Not when he couldn’t give her anything real in return.

And yet—

He could still feel her weight in his arms. The shape of her pressed against his chest when he’d carried her. The sound of her breathing as she drifted off to his music. The way she looked at him this morning, asking for something he was too much of a coward to give.

He hadn’t even let himself meet her eyes when she left.

Now, he regretted it.

Now, she was gone and he was still standing in this fucking house, half-empty and silent and smelling like her.

Joel moved back to the couch, sank into it with a long breath and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He wasn’t angry at her.

He was angry at himself.

Because somewhere between keeping her safe and pushing her away, he’d let her become important.

And now?

Now he wasn’t sure he knew how to let her go.

Cass didn’t cry when she left Joel’s house.

Not when he muttered "easier that way" and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Not when the cold morning air slapped her in the face like a punishment. Not even when the front door shut behind her like a final word.

She didn’t cry because if she started, she wasn’t sure she’d stop.

So instead — she moved.

She went home first. Her place still smelled like wood polish and fresh linen, like the pieces Dina and Ellie helped her move in just last week. She walked through it with her hands shoved in her pockets, shoulders stiff.

She showered. Got dressed. Abandoned Joel's clothes in a pile in the wardrobe. Out of sight, out of mind. Tied her boots with steady fingers.

Then, she stepped back out into Jackson like nothing happened.

The market was already alive when she passed through it — the clang of hammers, soft murmurs of barter, someone calling out the price of eggs.

Cass smiled at someone who waved.

She helped Mags carry a crate of potatoes into the kitchen. She said thank you when she was handed a cup of coffee. She stopped by the stables and ran a hand down the flank of one of the new foals just to feel the warmth of something alive.

But none of it felt real.

Not when her body still remembered the way it felt to fall asleep listening to his voice — that low, worn rasp as he sang to a memory and maybe, just maybe, to her. Not when she couldn't shake him out from under the skin.

Cass moved through the town like a ghost of herself.

No one would’ve guessed anything was wrong. She was good at that. Smiling. Small talk. She'd learned how to tuck pain under her ribs like a secret.

But inside, she felt— Unmoored. Unwanted. And worst of all: ashamed for wanting something she could never have.

Joel had made himself clear.

Whatever had burned in his chest when he kissed her — he’d buried it again. Shut it up behind walls thick with guilt and fear and whatever else kept him safe from wanting.

And fine. Fine.

She could do the same.

She could push down the flutter in her stomach whenever he looked at her. She could ignore the way his voice settled deep in her bones, or the way he made her feel like maybe — maybe — she could be someone safe with someone else again.

She’d been alone before. She could do it again.

So she finished the crate of vegetables. She helped patch a broken latch on a coop door. She laughed at one of Jesse’s dumb jokes and managed to make it sound real.

It was easier this way.

But every step she took was heavy. Every breath a little shallower. Every glance toward the gate held that ache — that pull — wondering if he was out there, if he was thinking about her too.

By dusk, she was exhausted in the kind of way that no sleep could fix.

The sky had gone grey by the time Cass kicked off her boots and folded herself onto the worn couch in her living room. No fire, no lights. Just the quiet hum of the storm clouds rolling in. Her house still echoed — no clutter, no mess, no history yet. Just her and the ache in her ribs that hadn't stopped all day.

Pretending she didn’t want to walk back to his house and ask why. Pretending the silence didn’t hurt more than anything he could have said.

She didn’t cry. Not yet.

She sat cross-legged, an untouched cup of tea cooling on the coffee table. In her lap, a notebook lay open, its pages blank.

She stared at them.

The pencil rested between her fingers, unmoving.

She used to sketch all the time — back when she and Micah would trade drawings across the table. Silly things, little moments, memories they were afraid of forgetting. But since arriving in Jackson, since Joel — since everything — her hand had barely moved. She touched the page like it might bite.

The front door knocked, light but certain. Cass flinched. For one fractured second, her stupid heart hoped.

But it wasn’t him.

“Cass?” Ellie’s voice called through the wood. “You home?”

Cass sighed and stood, dragging her feet to open the door. Ellie stood there, cheeks pink from the wind, a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hey,” Ellie said. “Dina made too much soup. I said I’d drop some off. You, uh… look like you could use it.”

Cass blinked. “I... yeah. Thanks.”

“Mind if I come in?” Cass didn't want visitors. Didn't want to speak to anyone. She just wanted to hide but for Ellie, how could she say no? She stepped aside. Ellie set the bag on the counter and looked around the house. “Still looks like you’re movin’ in.”

“I guess I haven’t really settled yet.”

Silence stretched for a beat. Then Ellie glanced at the notebook Cass had left on the couch.

“You draw?”

Cass gave a shrug. “Sometimes.”

“Cool.”

Cass watched her awkwardly rock on her heels. It took Ellie a second to speak again.

“Look,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t want to stick my nose in things, but… Joel’s a dick.”

Cass huffed a breath that was almost a laugh.

Ellie went on. “A well-meaning dick. But still.”

Cass swallowed. “He kissed me.”

“I figured.”

“And then he left.”

“Yeah. He does that. With... a lot of things.”

Cass wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Ellie’s voice softened. “It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

“He’s scared,” Ellie said, she didn’t sound like a teenager — she sounded like someone who’d seen the sharp edges of the world too many times. “Of losing things. Of wanting things. It’s easier for him to pretend he doesn’t care. That way it doesn’t hurt when something goes wrong.”

Cass said nothing.

Ellie sat on the couch and patted the spot beside her.

Cass sat.

They didn’t say much after that. Ellie stayed a while, eating soup with her, teasing her gently about how barren her house looked, offering to help fix up the shelves next week. And even though the silence still lingered like a bruise, it didn’t hurt quite as much with someone else in the room.

When Ellie finally left, Cass returned to her notebook.

She sat for a long time. Then, quietly, she sketched something.

A man’s profile. Brow furrowed. Jaw tense. Haunted eyes.

She shaded in the crease between his brows, the line of his nose, the slope of his mouth that so rarely smiled. Her hand moved slowly, tenderly, as if remembering what it felt like to be held in the warmth of his voice.

She closed the notebook before she could finish.

But the pencil didn’t leave her hand.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

at world's edge - chapter fifteen

plot: Cassidy 'Cass' Vega is losing the fight with herself and with the Infected when Tommy Miller finds her and brings her back to safety. There she finds a new purpose; to live. Along the way, she makes friends and starts to find herself falling for a man almost thirty years older than her.

character: female!OC x Joel Miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show)

cast: joel miller - pedro pascal, cass vega - adria arjona, ryan winnick - brandon sklenar

note: cass is 28, joel is 51, ellie and dina are 16/17, jesse is 19, ryan is 31, tommy is 46. themes of a sexual nature: erection, wanting to masturbate but doesn't

It had been a week since the kiss.

One moment - one fragile, powerful, beautiful moment - had rewritten everything between them. Changed everything. Their lips had met like it was inevitable — not frantic, not rushed, just true. Cass had felt it in her bones. The kind of kiss that seemed to echo into the marrow of her. And then, just as quickly, Joel had taken it all back without a word.

He hadn’t said anything at all.

Not that night. Not the next day.

Not once since.

The change was immediate — a sudden chill in the air that hadn’t been there before. He stopped looking her in the eye. He stopped stopping by. Would walk the other way if he saw her coming. Wouldn't say 'morning' back to her, just curt nods or simply ignored her. The easy rhythm they had built — cautious but growing, steady and true — collapsed like a house too hastily built.

He didn’t vanish from Jackson. No. That would’ve been too clean. Too easy. He was still there, in the distance — chopping wood behind Tommy’s, walking with Ellie to the stables, at every patrol debrief. But if she stepped into a room, he stepped out. If she called his name, he didn’t turn. He looked through her like she was glass.

The silence was a punishment. The space between them stretched like a fault line ready to crack open and swallow her whole.

Cass tried, at first.

She’d catch him near the town hall, brushing shoulders with him just enough to remind him she was still there. She left a cup of coffee on the porch of his house one morning, hoping for something — anything — in return.

But it never came.

At first, she gave him space.

She told herself that he just needed time. That Joel wasn’t the kind of man who rushed anything. He was cautious. Wounded. She understood that. God, didn’t she understand that?

But days turned into a week. Then two.

Cass hadn't felt invisible like this before.

Ellie had asked her in the greenhouse in the middle of the second week if she was okay. Cass said nothing. Ellie went on to tell her how Joel had been weird recently. Grumpier. Quieter. Constantly staring off into space as though deep in thought. Cass turned away from her. Ellie didn't ask after that.

Cass threw herself into working. She was devastated, heartbroken, and angry all at once. But on the cusp of the third week, she decided to stop yearning after someone who couldn't love her; someone who wouldn't allow themselves to love her. She deserved better. She deserved more.

On day twenty one of Joel Miller ignoring her, Cass decided to move on. She was doing well. For one whole day, she didn't think about him. Didn't yearn for him. Didn't even think about the kiss.

On day twenty two, she was forced to stay the night in his house.

So much for moving on.

No one expected the storm to hit Jackson so hard. Cass had seen the clouds roll in while tending to the plants in the greenhouse but she assumed all would be fine. Her hands were in the soil, dirt under her fingernails, sleeves rolled up past her elbows. She hadn't wanted to stop. Hadn't wanted to go home to that little green house that didn't feel like hers.

By the time she left, the rain was torrential, wind howling. Cass clutched her hood up as she ran down the muddy lanes but was shortly stopped by a guard, "Power's down in your sector. We're locking access until first light. Too dangerous to have people with no heat or hot water in these temperatures."

Cass frowned, almost having to yell over the pelting rain, "But I live there, where am I meant to go?"

"Maria's orders. Anyone from that sector either goes to the main hall where bunks will be set up or find someone's to stay at for the night. We don't want people moving about much tonight. Ground's slick and this storm ain't letting up any time soon."

Cass groaned.

The guard shrugged, "Your call. Main hall or a friend's."

The way Cass looked at it, she didn't want to be in a hall with a couple hundred other people, but she didn't really have another option unless... Ryan - no, he was the opposite end, she'd probably get taken to the main hall by a guard if she trekked that far.

"Fuck."

The only other option was Joel Miller.

Joel Miller who had hated her, kissed her, confused her and then hated her again. Yeah, him.

The walk to Joel's was short but miserable. She gave up trying to jog after slipping in the mud a few times. Rain soaked through her clothes, head to toe she was soaking and cold to the bone. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and cheeks by the time she stepped onto Joel's front porch.

Thunder rolled distant and low, like it was still deciding if it wanted to rage or rest. Cass hesitated, fist inches away from knocking the brown wooden door. Was the main hall really that terrible? She looked back, seeing another Jackson guard speak to other passers by, and then she knocked.

Joel opened the door a moment later. His face dropped and then hardened with a deep frown, "Cass."

"Power's out in my sector."

Joel nodded once, "Right."

He was going to make her say it, wasn't he? Cass fought the urge to roll her eyes, "Can I stay here tonight? It's either here or the main hall and I don't-"

Joel stepped to the side wordlessly, allowing her access to his home. She stopped talking and with a small, genuine smile, entered his home.

Cass peeled her jacket from her, Joel hung it on the hooks that were drilled into the wall. It dripped a puddle onto his floor, "No Ellie?"

Joel shook his head, "She went to Dina's before the storm rolled in. She'll be staying there."

Damn. She'd been hoping that Ellie would've been here to make things less awkward but no, luck just wasn't on her side. Cass nodded, looking around. Joel's house was simple, worn. Lived-in. But clean. There were shelves lined with books, old records and record player, a guitar propped in the corner, and another hanging carefully above the mantel. It looked like a home. Two framed photos on the mantle piece. A much younger Joel with a young girl she didn't know and a polaroid of Joel and Ellie.

"You play?" Cass asked as she took a few steps into his living room.

Joel followed her gaze, eyes landing on the guitar, "Yeah."

She wandered a little, trying not to look like she was snooping - even though she absolutely was. On a low table near the window was a small, beautiful wooden box. The craftsmanship was delicate, thoughtful. Her fingers ghosted over the smooth surface, "Beautiful."

"Thanks," Joel said uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck, "Took three days to complete."

Cass blinked and looked to him with wider eyes, "You made it?" He nodded, "Ellie mentioned you did stuff like that but this is lovely." He didn't reply, instead he just watched her from his spot, jaw tight. He liked the way she looked at the things he'd made, awe and full of admiration. He wanted her to look at him like that; like he was the most perfect thing in the world.

He turned and walked into the kitchen, "You hungry? Was just about to make dinner."

"If it's not too much trouble." Her voice was meek. She was just as uncomfortable as he was being here.

"Hope you like venison."

"I'd eat anything. Can't be worse than Ellie's attempt at scrambled eggs." Joel gave a soft laugh and a slow smile stretched onto Cass's face. The ice began to melt.

"You'll be freezing, you can go dry off or go have a bath to heat up. Dinner will be a while-"

"You have a bath?!" Her whole demeanour changed. She suddenly became animated with childlike excitement all over a bath.

"Yeah...?"

Her whole face lit up, "I've only ever had a shower. I've not had a bath since before." That smile - unfiltered, wide, toothy, excited - did something awful to his chest. He wanted to remember her in that moment, so pure and joyful. She looked at him with warm eyes, "Can I-?"

Joel smiled, small and soft, "Yeah. Course. Knock yourself out."

When she scampered off to the bathroom, Joel turned away, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm his heart that suddenly picked up in pace the moment she smiled.

"Dinner," he muttered, "you're making dinner."

Cass took her time.

There were two bottles of soap on the edge of the bath, one smelled like pine and one smelled like lavender. Cass, who hated the smell of lavender, opted for the woody pine scent. She poured a little in her bath before stepping in and sinking beneath the water.

It felt so nice, so comforting and warm that tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

She sunk below the depths of the water, relishing the way the warmth cocooned her body, before pushing herself upwards and taking a deep breath. She lathered herself in the soap, scrubbing the soil and dirt from her skin, and washing her hair until her whole self smelled of pine.

Joel sat at the kitchen table trying not to think about it. Tried not to think about the way the house suddenly felt warmer. How he could hear the soft creak of pipes as she filled the bath with water. How he could hear her softly humming and singing songs from the past, songs he knew. How she could have went to Ryan but she chose to come here. How it had been weeks since they'd spoken beyond what duty required.

Since he kissed her.

And now, she was in his house.

In his bathroom.

Naked in his tub-

"Joel?" Her voice floated down the hall, hesitant.

He stood, walking to the bathroom, where she had the door cracked open a little bit, "Yeah?"

"I don't... have clothes. Mine are soaking."

His mouth went dry, "Hang on."

In his clothes.

He found the softest things he could - grey sweatpants, grey t-shirt, and a faded blue hoodie with frayed cuffs. All of them too big but unmistakably his.

He turned his head away as she opened the door wider to accept them, "Thanks."

His breath caught when their fingers brushed.

"I'll plate dinner." His voice was thick, she didn't notice.

She emerged a few minutes later, her hair wet and loose tumbling over her shoulders. The hoodie swallowed her. The pants were cuffed twice at the ankle, drawstring pulled tight to tie them at the waist. And he couldn't - couldn't - look at her without the weight of something old and sharp pressing into his chest. And when he smelled her, the smell of his soap on her, he turned his body fully away from her, all too aware that his jeans were becoming tighter at his crotch.

The things you do to me.

"Smells good," she commented as she padded into the kitchen, "Didn't know you could cook."

Joel swallowed, trying to calm his heart and his erection which pressed uncomfortably against the denim of his jeans, "Barely," he said with a clear of his throat, "picked up a few recipes that aren't half bad over the years though. I'm no chef."

He plated their dinner in silence. Cursing himself out for the effects she had over him. He felt like a damn teenager. Hard from seeing her in the most unflattering clothes but they were his clothes and smelling him on her...

Fucking hell.

He rubbed a hand over his face, "Need a hand?" She didn't even know the effect she had on him; the hold she had over him.

He shook his head, "All good." With a deep breath, he turned to finally look at her and sat down across from her, dinner warm in front of them.

It was awkward, absolutely. Neither had much to say. There was a lot that could have been said but neither wanted to touch that conversation. Not yet. They ate in near silence, the only noise being the clank of cutlery on the plates.

When she was finished, she pushed the plate away, puffing out a long breath, "That was so good."

"Yeah?" Something about feeding her, giving her clothes; something about taking care of her made his chest swell.

She nodded, "And you said you weren't a very good cook. Gimme your plate."

Joel frowned at her, "Sit down, Cass." He went to stand and take her plate but she wouldn't let go, "What kinda man would I be if I let you wash dishes in my house?"

"But you cooked me dinner. You're letting me stay here."

Joel rolled his eyes, "Sit down, Cass." His voice was quieter but firm. She released her grip on the plate and sat back in the dining chair. He moved to the sink, turning the tap on and soaking the dishes.

Cass watched him. It was her first time really seeing him like this. He wore a dark t-shirt which allowed her the chance to see him; the shape of his arms, the flex of his muscles, the shine of the scars. Dear god. She swallowed, cheeks flushing, and looked away quickly before he noticed that she was getting hot and bothered over his forearms.

"Thanks," she said after a minute, "for letting me stay and cooking for me."

Joel nodded, "Don't have to thank me."

She wandered off again, exploring his home freely. She soaked in every detail of his living room. Her eyes lingering on the picture of Joel from twenty years ago. He would've been close to her age in that picture, few years older. She wondered what he was like back then. Back when the world was safe. Back before the world ended.

She hadn't realised he'd left the room until he was coming back. He began to set up the couch. He had a quilted blanket and a cushion. She went to take them, "Thanks, I'll set it up. You've done enough."

"You're not seriously expecting me to let you sleep on my couch."

She gawked at him, her cheeks betraying her and heating up again, "You're not seriously expecting me to take your bed. I'll be fine on the couch, Joel."

He looked at her, "Doesn't matter. You're taking my bed."

They stared each other down again, "Why don't I take Ellie's-"

"Ellie's weird with people being in her room when she's not there. She likes you but not enough to sleep in her bed. She likes me but again, not enough to sleep in her bed." Cass breathed out a laugh at that, "You're taking my bed."

Eventually she sighed and threw her hands up, "Fine. But I don't want to get the blame for your back pain tomorrow."

He sunk into the couch, pulling the blanket over his legs. She lingered in the hallway for a moment, watching him, heart loud in her ears. For a moment, she thought she might bring it up.

Instead, she gave a soft, "Night, Joel."

And then she closed his bedroom door behind her.

He looked up, "Night, Cass."

Joel's bedroom was plain, more bare than the living room but it suited him with dark, earthy tones and smelled of cedar. She sunk into his sheets trying not to think about the fact it smelled of him.

Yesterday, she made a promise to never think about Joel Miller again.

Today, she was encapsulated by him. In his house. In his bed. In his clothes.

Cass rolled over and closed her eyes, willing herself to go to sleep. But sleep didn't come.

She tossed and turned. Her mind wouldn't shut up. She couldn't shut her brain off. Couldn't stop thinking about his stupid face, the kiss, the way he smelled, the way his arms looked, the way he said her name.

Eventually, after an hour or two of trying to sleep, she gave up and padded out into the living room. Joel was awake, sitting in the dimly lit living room. A book on his knee.

His head raised, "Couldn't sleep?"

She shook her head.

He stood silently, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. He moved to the kitchen and made tea. No questions. He filled two mugs and handed her one. She sat on the couch, legs curled under her. He sat beside her, a careful distance away, "Meant to help you sleep," he muttered. She thanked him softly, taking small sips.

They sat like that for a while. The wind was still strong but the rain had softened. The fire clicked low in the hearth.

"I saw you looking at the pictures above the fireplace." His voice was quiet. Cass turned to look at him. He wasn't looking at her. Just the flames as the orange and yellows danced together, "Obviously one's Ellie and me. The other... that's my daughter. Her name was Sarah."

Cass's throat tightened.

"She died. The day the world ended, she died." He swallowed and was silent for a bit, "I held her as she died. Part of me died that day too."

Tears burned in her eyes and she did the only thing she could think to comfort. She reached across the couch, fingers finding his and curling around them. He didn't pull away, instead his grip tightened.

"She was everything. You would'a liked her. Funny. Made people better by just being around." He smiled and it broke Cass's heart, "I... I couldn't save her."

Cass was quiet for a minute before she said, "Micah. My brother's name is Micah." Joel looked at her, glow of the fire casting shadows on his face, chocolate eyes glowing in the light, "He's younger by three years. He's the question I wanted answered... We were in a camp, a small one but had good people. Raiders came. Tore through it all like it was nothing. Killed most of the people, knocked me out. Took Micah. Last thing I remember before I blacked out was Micah screaming my name. They took him... I tracked raiders for weeks, infiltrated one of the camps, made them trust me. No one seemed to know anything. There were too many, was a much bigger job than I thought. Then I found you and Tommy. Still haven't found Micah."

"You will." Joel's quiet conviction made her breathing catch in her throat, "You'll find him."

Cass looked at him then — really looked — and saw something in his eyes she hadn’t dared believe was there.

Warmth. Hope. Pain. Something raw and unspoken.

They sat in the stillness for a long time.

Eventually, softly, she asked, "Will you play something for me? On your guitar?"

Joel hesitated. Then he nodded.

He stood and walked to his guitar before settling into the chair near the fire. Cass drained the last of her tea before placing the mug down on the table. His fingers moved over the strings with reverence. The song was soft, unfamiliar - something old, something from before - but it was beautiful. Soothing. He didn't look at her as he played. He couldn't. If he looked at her now, curled in his clothes on his couch, he would break. He would move to her and kiss her and he wouldn't be able to stop himself. So, he stared at the guitar.

Cass leaned back against the cushions, listening contentedly, until her eyes slowly began to drift shut. By the time he played the final chord, her breathing had deepened. Asleep.

Joel set the guitar down gently.

He walked over. Stood above her for a long moment, unsure. Then - with a softness no one else had ever gotten from him - he slid one arm beneath her knees, the other behind her back. Lifted her effortlessly. She curled into his warmth, murmuring something in her sleep against his shoulder. He swallowed.

He carried her to his bed. Placed her down gently, pulled the blankets up.

Paused.

His hand reached out and brushed a piece of hair from her forehead. Let his fingers linger just a second too long.

Then, silently, he stepped back. He returned to the couch.

He lay in the dark, listening to the rain, trying to ignore the fact that her scent was all over his house.

Trying to forget how it felt to hold her.

Cass. In his home. In his clothes. In his bed.

And he couldn’t stop picturing it. Couldn’t stop replaying the look on her face when she’d stepped out of the bathroom, skin flushed from the bath, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands like she didn’t know what to do with them. Her eyes had met his—bright, a little unsure, a little too soft—and he’d had to look away before his ribs cracked under the weight of it.

The worst part was the smell.

Not a bad smell. Not even close.

His soap. His house. Warmth and pine and skin and her. That scent clung to the air now, and it was driving him out of his goddamn mind. It filled the space like a whisper pressed against his throat: She was here. She's still here.

And Joel — despite every mile he’d walked, every loss he’d endured, every layer of armour he’d welded over himself in the years since Sarah — couldn’t do a damn thing about the way it undid him.

It was too much.

The way she looked at him when he played the guitar, like the music was something sacred. The way she spoke about her brother, voice shaking but steady. The way she listened to him when he talked about Sarah — not pitying, not afraid, just there, with him. Grounded.

Present.

Joel hadn’t felt that in a long time.

And he sure as hell didn’t know what to do with it now.

He leaned back against the couch with a groan, scrubbing both hands over his face. His joints ached. His back protested. He was too old for this, too broken, too tired. His cock ached, throbbing with the desire to be touched; for her.

She’s too young. That’s what he’d told her. That was the line he kept throwing out like it explained everything. Like it excused the way his pulse jumped when she smiled, the way his stomach clenched when her fingers brushed his hand. Like it excused the very real, physical reaction his body had to her.

But it didn’t explain anything. Not really.

And it sure as hell didn’t stop the wanting.

Joel stared at the hallway where the bedroom door was now closed. He imagined her curled up under his blanket, breathing deep, face soft in sleep. Maybe one hand tucked under her cheek. Maybe the hem of his hoodie rising a little when she moved.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He couldn’t sleep. Not with that picture in his head. Not with the knowledge that if he took just ten steps forward, he’d be able to see her again.

He wouldn't, though.

He couldn't.

Because if he did — if he let himself go there — he knew he wouldn’t be able to walk it back. Not with her. Not this time.

And she deserved more than a man who was halfway to ruin.

So Joel stayed on the couch. Awake. He didn't touch himself, didn't dare to palm his erection. He wanted to, god he wanted to, but he didn't want to give in. Didn't want to tarnish the night. Didn't need the guilt.

Listening to the slow rhythm of rain and the distant hum of her breathing.

Counting the reasons he shouldn’t want her.

And coming up empty every damn time.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

at world's edge - chapter fourteen

plot: Cassidy 'Cass' Vega is losing the fight with herself and with the Infected when Tommy Miller finds her and brings her back to safety. There she finds a new purpose; to live. Along the way, she makes friends and starts to find herself falling for a man almost thirty years older than her.

character: female!OC x Joel Miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show)

cast: joel miller - pedro pascal, cass vega - adria arjona, ryan winnick - brandon sklenar

note: cass is 28, joel is 51, ellie and dina are 16/17, jesse is 19, ryan is 31, tommy is 46

Cass had tried, she really had fucking tried, to ignore Joel Miller and ignore everything that had happened but she couldn't. Every time she closed her eyes, his panicked expression and urgent "Did it bite you?!" was the only things she could think of.

He cared about her.

But he wasn't brave enough to let himself love her.

And that felt like a punch to the gut.

Cass stretched her aching limbs, her shoulder better than yesterday but still painful to move too much, before getting out of bed and starting her day.

Ellie showed up at her door just after breakfast, a bowl of porridge with berries on top, a tired look in her eyes, "You didn't show," she shrugged, "I brought you something to eat. Heard it was rough out on patrol yesterday."

Cass took it with a soft, grateful nod and stepped aside to let her in. Ellie didn’t ask permission—she never did—but this morning, her silence felt a little softer than usual. They sat at Cass’s small table. The steam from the oatmeal curled into the quiet.

“You look like shit,” Ellie said, not unkindly.

Cass gave a humorless huff. “Feel like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

"What do you know about yesterday's patrol?" Cass asked, curious to know if Joel had spoken to Ellie about it all.

“Not much. He hasn’t said a word to me,” Ellie clarified. “Since yesterday. He was... different. After you got back. All wound up. Didn’t even go home. Just disappeared after giving his report.” Ellie leaned back, watching her. “Whatever happened out there—he’s not letting it go... It was Tommy this morning that filled me in. Don't know if Joel's told him everything but said a Clicker nearly got you."

Cass swallowed, "Yeah."

"But that's not all?"

Cass took another spoonful of her breakfast before she spoke again, "That scared me, course, but the thing that really scared me was Joel." Ellie frowned, "Ells, the way he looked at me once he'd killed the Clicker; the panic that was written so clearly over his face and in his words. He was terrified."

"... Why's that a bad thing?" Ellie asked with a frown, "Isn't it good that he's finally cracking and showing you how he feels?"

"Because I tried to talk to him after, twice no maybe three times, begging him to just say it. To stop being such a damn coward and say what he's been holding back."

"And he didn't." Ellie concluded.

"Correct."

"He's going to push me away again and Ellie, I'll be honest, I don't know how much more of this push and pull I can take."

They didn’t say much more after that.

And neither did Joel.

For the rest of the day, he was like smoke. Cass saw the back of him once, disappearing around a corner near the main hall. Another time, she caught his profile in the distance near the stables, talking to Tommy. Each time, he walked the other way before she could get too close.

He was avoiding her.

And it was working.

The silence in her house was unbearable.

She'd been back to the infirmary, they gave her more meds for the pain and gave her some exercises to do for her shoulder - painful but in the long run would be helpful. She'd gone for lunch in the main hall, spoken to Tommy and Maria about her injuries and how they'd take her off patrol for a few days until her shoulder was better and just arrange for her to do small time, easy jobs for the time being. She'd traded with Seth, a knife for two books in pretty good condition.

She thought that she'd have tired herself out enough to sleep. Wrong.

She paced her living room for ages. Tried to read, couldn't get past page one. Rearranged her furniture (slowly and carefully so as not to hurt her shoulder further). Took inventory of her clothes and figured out what she'd need to find more of or trade for. Her skin felt too tight. Her brain wouldn't shut up.

At midnight, she gave up trying to sleep and pulled on her boots. She didn't know where she was going, she just needed to get out the house and move.

Jackson was quiet, peaceful. She felt like she could breathe better being out here under the stars. A dog barked in the distance, laughter came from the bar. A cold breeze bit through her jacket.

Eventually, her feet carried her towards the stables to see her favourite girl, Lemon, but that's not all she found there.

She hadn't been looking for him but she found him anyway.

Joel.

He was in one of the stalls, brushing down one of the mares in slow strokes. The lantern light cast harsh shadows across his face. His jaw was clenched, shoulders stiff. He was a walking contradiction. His face was furious but his touch was gentle.

Cass froze when she saw him.

Joel looked up. His eyes widened slightly—but he didn’t say anything. Just went back to brushing.

She should’ve turned around. Left him to his brooding silence. But something inside her cracked.

“Really?” she snapped.

He kept brushing.

“You’re just gonna act like nothing happened?”

Joel’s hand stilled.

He didn’t look at her when he said, “Nothing did happen.”

That broke the dam.

“You screamed at me like I was already dead,” she said, stepping into the stall. “You looked at me like I was your goddamn worst nightmare. And now you can’t even look me in the eye?”

Joel’s head turned slowly. “You think I wanted that? You think I wanted you out there—bleeding, covered in mud—scared outta your mind?”

“I didn’t ask you to come after me!” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t ask you to care!”

“But I do! Jesus, Cass—what do you want from me?”

She stepped closer, shaking. “I want you to stop pretending like I don’t exist when all I fucking do is think about you.”

Joel’s mouth opened like he might say something, but nothing came out. His breath hitched. She could see his fists shaking, "You're too damn young to understand-"

"So that's what this is about?!"

"I'm damn near thirty years older than you, Cass!"

"Twenty three years not thirty." Joel rolled his eyes, "And anyway, how dare you act like I'm not 'worthy' of your time, attention or love just because I'm younger than you!"

"That's not what this is about. You've got your whole damn life ahead of you, Cass, you've not experienced-"

"Don't finish that sentence." He'd never seen her shake with anger before, never seen fury in her eyes like that, "I've experienced loss. I've experienced heartbreak. I experienced the world before it turned to shit. I've experienced people I loved dying, getting bitten; I've experienced it too. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't know."

Joel didn't say anything, he glowered at her, chest heaving.

She swallowed. All that anger evaporating instantly leaving her feeling meek. Her voice was small. “Do you feel anything? Or am I just making a fool of myself?”

He didn’t speak.

He just looked at her—like she was killing him from the inside out.

Then he moved.

One step. Two.

His hand wrapped around her waist and the other cupping her cheek.

And then he kissed her.

Hard. Brutal. Desperate.

She gasped against him, stumbled back into the stall wall with a thud. He moved with her, pressing his body flush against hers. He kissed her like he was mad at her—like he hated her for what she made him feel. His hand came up to cradle her jaw, his body pinning hers.

She kissed him back. One of her hands moved up his chest and beneath her fingertips she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. The other hand gripped his shirt collar, pulling him to her.

Days of tension, fights, anger. Weeks of yearning, denial, pain. Months of wanting had led to this moment.

It was messy. Furious. Raw.

And then—

He pulled away.

Like he’d been burned.

Joel stared at her—breath ragged, eyes wide. She reached for him again, brows furrowing, but he stepped back, shaking his head. His mouth opened like he might say something—anything—but then he turned.

And walked out of the stable.

Leaving her breathless, trembling, and completely alone.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Just curious, would you ever post your fic on AO3?

yeah i would, i have an account that i've never posted anything on, just haven't found the time to do it tbh (or energy) xx