#THE WAY HE WOULD BE KILLED BY THE SAME PEOPLE AND HE’S JOEL’S BROTHER TOO!! LIKE. NOT ONLY THE REMINISCENCE OF JOEL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punkshort · 10 months

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look what we've become - ch.3

Chapter Summary: Joel joins Tommy to meet the Fireflies and set up a trade agreement. They come back to Jackson with more than they expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, mentions of slavery

WC: 5.4K

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A/N: a reminder this story follows a slightly different timeline. Ellie was born pre-outbreak, but she was little when it happened.

Joel couldn't believe the past day and a half really happened. The rollercoaster of emotions you put him through left him stunned and shaken, wondering how he could read everything so fucking wrong. He found himself questioning everything now, replaying conversations, wondering if you had ever alluded to your feelings about marriage and a family that maybe he misread, misconstrued. Twisted and built up in his mind to fit into his stupid fantasy. One, he acknowledged, wasn't even in the forefront of his mind until his brother brought it back up to the surface. And suddenly, he wanted it, too. Like some resentful child who saw another playing with a toy he hadn't paid attention to in months, then demanded it for himself.

But he had thought about it, well before Tommy decided to man up first. He had the ring, but he never did anything with it. Why? Deep down, had he known you wouldn't want that? Was he subconsciously protecting himself by never acting on it? Or was he truly just waiting for the right time?

Even with Tommy's news, he still hadn't come up with a plan to actually ask you to marry him. He just allowed the fantasy to play out between your legs while he continued to make up excuses as to why he was holding off. Maybe it just turned him on to have a secret. Maybe he just wanted to have you, mark you, claim you. He knew he had a bad jealous streak, but would he have let his possessiveness lead him this far off track?

No. There were real reasons why he wanted you to be his wife. You made him want to be a better man. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. You brought out sides of him that others, including himself, never knew existed. Good things. You made him believe in happiness again, after his heart had been stomped on, making him treat everyone around him so poorly, even his own family. At a time when he felt so undeserving, you made him feel like the only person in the world. Even back then, he had a hard time believing you could actually care for him, but you saw through his bullshit to the man he was underneath, and you loved him for being him.

You had this way of looking at him like he was capable of anything. And with you by his side, he felt like he really was capable of anything. He did things he never thought possible to keep you both safe, as did you. You killed for each other. Not many people can say that. That meant something. The trauma and pain you both endured for one another had to mean something more. There was no doubt you both had proven what you were willing to do for the other, so it was only natural he wanted to commit himself to you. Say the words, vow to you in front of everyone you knew and loved that he would happily devote himself to you for the rest of his life.

So why didn't you want the same?

Ages ago, when the pair of you stumbled into the hellscape that was Kansas City, his ex, Amy, had mentioned offhandedly that you were only with him for protection. At the time, he shrugged it off, knowing full well it was bullshit just to get under his skin. But now, against his better judgement, he was rethinking those words. Rolling them around in his head, wondering if there was any truth to it.

"You been real quiet," Tommy said, pulling Joel out of his misery, surprised to suddenly find his brother next to him as they made their way on horseback down the mountains. Joel shrugged, averting his gaze ahead to the three other men leading the way.

"You mad at me for puttin' you on patrol yesterday? I'm sorry, Carl got sick and I didn't have anyone else," Tommy continued.

"Nah, it's not that," Joel replied, still staring straight ahead. "Didn't sleep well, is all."

"Ah," Tommy said, a playful smile pulling across his lips. "She send you off with somethin' to remember her by?"

Joel huffed and rolled his shoulders, his anger bubbling below the surface as he thought once again about the night before.

"Not exactly," Joel responded, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

Tommy hummed in response but remained quiet, trying to read his brother from the corner of his eye.

"Everythin' alright at home?" he asked, unknowingly hitting the nail on the head, causing Joel to clench the muscles in his stomach, like he was bracing for a punch to the gut.

"It's fine. What's the plan for when we get to this place?" Joel asked, quickly sidestepping the subject, something that was certainly not lost on his younger brother, but Tommy allowed for the change in conversation, anyway.

"We're gonna meet up with their leader, woman named Marlene. They're lookin' mostly for weapons, but they need other stuff, too. They got lots of medicine and first aid to swap. Bill's been runnin' real low on antibiotics, considerin' how fast the town is growin'," Tommy said with a sigh, readjusting in his saddle. "Girls sent me with a list of inventory, highlighted all the stuff we have a surplus of and all the stuff we could use more of. Remind me to thank her for helpin' when we get home," he said, keeping a close eye on Joel's reaction when he referred to you.

"Sure," was all Joel said in response, refusing to let him drudge up the topic. The wound was still too fresh, and he needed time. For the first time in a long time, he had no idea what was going through your head, and it scared the shit out of him.

Was it marriage and kids in general you didn't want, or was it marriage and kids with him?

He should have asked. He should have stayed instead of storming out that night. Instead, he let his emotions get the better of him and left you all alone, likely crying until you fell asleep if your swollen eyes the next morning was any indication. When he saw you, saw the distress etched in your perfect features, he wanted to pull you into his arms and never leave for this fucking trip. And he damn near did just that, until you confirmed it was a false alarm, and his heart was torn all over again. It was then he realized he had been hoping you were pregnant with his child, and there would be no choice but to face the next challenge together. Then he would be able to prove to you that it was a good thing, that you could, in fact, do it. And so could he.

Now, instead, he wasn't even sure where you two stood. You had said you still wanted him before he left, and that gave him hope. Hope that maybe not all was lost, that you could repair the damage that was done and come out stronger in the end for it. That maybe he could, in time, prove to you that he would be a good husband, a good father.

But then, Amy's words crept up in the back of his mind since he left. Somehow, years and years later, the woman still managed to torment him, making him believe he wasn't worthy or good enough to possibly have someone like you. The same way she manipulated him into thinking he deserved to be betrayed by her when they were engaged, that he didn't give enough of himself, that she warned him she needed more and he refused.

He shouldn't have gone on this trip.

"Alright, we're losin' daylight, let's set up camp and get an early start tomorrow," Tommy announced, much to Joel's relief. He didn't want to admit that, just a mere few weeks away from his fortieth birthday, his back and knees were aching like he was a much older man. He slid down from his saddle with an audible groan, then tied his reins around a tree trunk before giving his mare a few loving pats along the crooked white blaze that split her face.

He unbuckled his sleeping bag from the saddle and shouldered his backpack, dropping his belongings unceremoniously to the ground before he and Jake headed out with a couple hatchets to collect some firewood.

He didn't mind Jake so much anymore. He was quiet, kept to himself and, fortunately, didn't seem to harbor any resentment towards him from the time Joel put him in the infirmary for kissing you. His bad temper mixed with his jealousy nearly killed the man.

Afterwards, he thought he lost you.

You left him, asking for time to process what happened, upset that he didn't take your word for it when you promised him the kiss was a misunderstanding, that you handled it. You viewed it as distrust, he viewed it as protection. It wasn't until later that he realized he was harboring his own trauma from failing to protect you from a past sexual assault.

As he carried an armful of firewood back, he reflected on everything you had been through together. The outbreak, your parents, the time you were stabbed, the assault, the breakup, the accident that nearly killed him. Not to mention all the infected and raiders that threatened you both at every turn. Was your relationship strong enough to endure one more massive hurdle?

They were deep in the woods, the terrain favorable. The trees hid the fire well, and the vast, empty land kept infected away. Still, each man took a quick turn overnight to keep watch. It hardly mattered when Eugene gently shook his shoulder, alerting him it was his turn to watch. He can never sleep well when he's away from you, anyway.

Joel was almost grateful when they reached the hospital late in the afternoon the next day. It was the first time in two days he was able to stop thinking about you, his mind swirling with images of your trembling lip and your tear stained cheeks. He frequently wondered what you were doing, if you told Maria or Carrie about your argument. Were you packing up your things? Would he come home to an empty house? He wasn't sure his heart could handle it again.

You said you still wanted him.

You said you loved him.

But he didn't say those things back, and he left.

Even if you were fighting, even if it was the most significant disagreement you've ever had, he still wanted you near. He could never silence that driving force inside him since the outbreak that screamed keep her safe.

When they approached the hospital, they were all searched, weapons confiscated, as expected, before being ushered inside to meet the leader of the strange group called the Fireflies.

Marlene was a taller woman, with a firm jaw and eyes that could look right through you. He could tell right away she was not to be trifled with, that she took her role seriously in this little revolution she was spearheading. Although the people they had met since arriving seemed very intense, he didn't feel threatened. And he usually had a good instinct for those things. Usually.

They were in the hospital cafeteria, the five men, Marlene, plus a few others seated around a large, circular table as Tommy and Marlene exchanged pleasantries, both parties trying to make the other more comfortable. Joel hadn't really been listening. He was scanning the room, watching the guards pace by the doors regularly, the sentries standing watch with their hands resting on their rifles as they watched the exchange from a distance.

A small group of women entered from the door behind him, heading towards the kitchen to begin food preparations. Joel's eyes glanced over the group of four, three middle aged looking women who kept their eyes pinned to the ground, and a young girl with brown hair, tied back away from her face. She didn't look to be a day over thirteen, and she was the only one who looked around the room, her eyes locking with Joel's. He stared at her, his brow slightly furrowed as he tried to assess the situation. She continued to hold his gaze as she followed the other women, and although her body language gave nothing away, Joel felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something seemed off.

"Isn't that right, Joel?" Tommy was saying, snapping his attention away from the girl, who he saw in his peripheral disappear behind a door into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry?" he replied, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together on top of the table, trying to look focused.

"I was just sayin' how we know of a few police stations in some small towns that have barely been touched. Wouldn't be much effort for us to get a group together when we get home and go ransack 'em, take just a few days to hit 'em all," Tommy said, his eyes flicking from Joel to Marlene, then back again.

Another trip. More days away from you.

"Yeah," Joel replied, nodding his head and ignoring the pit in his stomach. "It's not enough for an army, but I reckon any little bit helps."

"In the meantime, lemme show you our inventory list. See if anything jumps out at you, and we can work on gettin' those guns," said Tommy as he pulled the list out of his coat pocket and smoothing it out on the table.

Marlene reviewed the list, her dark eyes flicking over the paper quickly with a few hums here and there as she took notes.

"Looks good, but we mostly need weapons," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I could probably do with some fresh vegetables, I think everyone's getting sick of the canned shit. And shampoo. But that hardly is a match for antibiotics." Her eyes shifted back and forth between Joel and Tommy, and the corner of her mouth turned up as an idea hit her.

"I do have another offer, though," she said, leaning forward. "It's not what we discussed, but if you're willing, I could send you home with half a box of penicillin now, and the other half after."

"After... what?" Tommy asked a little hesitantly.

"I'm lacking manpower at the moment. My guys are stretched thin, we're planning a hit on the soldiers at the Boise QZ. I need you to take someone to the hospital base we have in Salt Lake City. It should only take two days to get there, and I just need you to make sure she gets there alive," Marlene said, pressing her pointer finger into the table on the last word for emphasis.

Tommy glanced at the other four men, clearly not expecting to run errands for these people in exchange for medicine. Joel could see the wheels turning in his brother's head before Tommy spoke.

"Show me the meds first," he said to Marlene, and she quickly lifted two fingers up from the table, blindly addressing someone behind her to exit and do as he asked.

"What's the catch?" Joel asked, his defenses going up.

"No catch. Just need to get her out of here and with my other group, and I don't have the time to do it myself," she said with a shrug, but Joel knew better. She was trying to act casual, but he saw her knee bouncing under the table.

He shouldn't have come on his trip.

Once Tommy laid eyes on the unopened vials of medicine, medicine Jackson could really use since Bill, the town doctor, had been rationing enough as it is, Joel knew his decision was made.

"Done," Tommy said with a nod, extending his arm to shake Marlene's hand, which she eagerly reached out to do.

"Tommy," Joel said quietly, annoyed his brother didn't run the decision by the group first.

"Give me a little bit. I'll go talk to her so you can hit the road right away. John, please give these gentleman half the box of penicillin," Marlene said as she pushed her chair back, the legs making an awful screech against the dirty, linoleum floor. "Dinner is about to be served, please help yourselves as my guests," she added over her shoulder, leaving the dining hall.

"Tommy," Joel tried again, finally pulling his brother's attention. "A word?"

He led Tommy a ways away from the table so their conversation couldn't be overheard.

"What're you thinkin'?" Joel asked him, hands on his hips. "We don't do things like this."

"I know, Joel, but we're already out here, what's the harm? It's just a few more days," he said.

"I can't do a few more days, I need to get home," Joel replied, raking his fingers through his hair anxiously.

"I'll send Jesse and Jake back to let the girls know we'll be a little longer-"

"Goddamnit, Tommy, no!" Joel said, louder than he anticipated, a few heads from the table turning to glance his way.

"Jackson needs this medicine, what the hell's gotten into you?" Tommy asked with a frown, shifting his weight as he tried to read his brother's face.

Before he could reply, Marlene reentered the room alone, motioning for the two brothers to join her back at the table.

"Ellie's working in the kitchen, once dinner is over I'll send her to change and gather her things," Marlene said.

"Not a problem," said Tommy as he sat back down.

"Is that true?" Marlene asked, her lips pressed in a thin line as she held Joel's gaze, waiting for him to answer. He took a deep breath through his nose and crossed his arms.

"Yeah, not a problem," Joel replied bitterly.

Joel ate his meal quickly, desperate to finish this ridiculous task so he could get home. The longer he was away from you, the stronger his paranoia became. With each passing hour, he could almost feel the chasm between you growing, and he was beginning to convince himself there was no repairing the damage that was done. On both sides. Communication had never been his strong suit, but he thought he was getting better at it the past few years. Why did he go on this trip?

His eyes flicked up from his empty plate to see Marlene heading their way with the young girl he saw earlier in tow. His anger flared deep in his belly again, and he elbowed Tommy in the ribs to mutter angrily "she didn't mention it was a fuckin' kid" before Marlene could overhear.

"Ellie, these are the men I told you about. They're going to take you to Salt Lake City like we discussed," Marlene said, her hand resting on the girl's back. Joel eyed her carefully, noticing how tense her shoulders looked as she regarded the five men in front of her. His eyes drifted back to Marlene, wondering why on earth she was willing to leave this young girl with five strange men without a second thought. He decided she either was very desperate, or didn't care much for the girl.

Ellie readjusted her backpack on her shoulders and yanked on the edges of her long sleeved shirt, squaring her jaw as she stared them all down. Marlene crouched down to the girl's level and rested her hands on her shoulders.

"Remember what I told you. Listen to them, and everything will be fine," Marlene said, narrowing her eyes at Ellie. Ellie nodded, nostrils flaring before Marlene stood up to address Tommy.

"You need a map?"

"Nah, we got maps," Tommy said with a shake of his head. "This group know when we get there to give us the rest of the payment?"

"I'll radio the leader over there once you leave, let her know the deal," Marlene replied, stretching her arm out again to shake Tommy's hand.

"Alright, then," said Tommy, looking back down at Ellie and shooting her a small smile, trying to make her feel more comfortable. "You ready?"

"Yeah," she said, taking a deep breath and following Tommy out of the cafeteria.

They collected their weapons at the entrance before heading out, Ellie joining Tommy on the back of his horse. They didn't make it very far before the sun began to dip behind the trees and a quiet place was found to make camp for the night.

After getting a fire going, Tommy sat down in the dirt next to Joel, who had been leaning against a small oak tree, sipping from his flask and staring into the flames. The other three men were quietly playing a game of poker across from them, the occasional laugh or taunt floating in the air, while Ellie busied herself with a worn, paperback book further away from the rest.

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on yet?" Tommy asked, taking out his own flask.

"Nothin's goin' on," Joel replied gruffly, eyes trained on the fire.

"What's makin' you feel like you need to get home so bad?" he pressed. Joel felt that anger swelling inside him again, up his stomach and through his chest, and for a moment he wondered if Tommy knew. That maybe you told Maria and she let something slip.

"I told you, it's nothin'," he snarled, taking another sip from his flask and letting his eyes drift over to the girl. "Just wish I knew you were signin' me up to be a goddamn babysitter before comin' on this fuckin' trip."

"I can hear you, you know," Ellie said, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book.

"Good," Joel said, jutting his chin towards her, finally finding something to take his anger out on. "What's your deal, anyway?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said, sitting upright and letting her book fall to her lap, a flash of stubbornness not unlike his own reflecting in her eyes.

"Try me," Joel argued, his jaw clenching. Ellie glared at him, silence falling over the camp as everyone waited for her to speak. She opened her mouth, then thought better of it, clamping it shut and casting her eyes down. Joel scoffed, not ready to let the topic go just yet. Angry that this child was keeping him from home, from you. Angry that his brother agreed to it, like a fool.

"C'mon now, let's hear it. What makes you so fuckin' special?"

"Joel," Tommy said under his breath, a warning, reminding him to watch his language, that she was just a kid.

"Why should I bother? You're all the same, anyway! No one ever listens to me, 'cause I'm just some kid, right? No one-" she cut herself off, stopping herself before she said too much.

"Who's all the same?" Tommy asked gently, trying to coax the information out of her. She shrugged and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

"The people Marlene hires. Dragging me all over the country like I'm... whatever," she said, stopping herself yet again.

"So this ain't the first time Marlene sent you off with a bunch of strange men?" Joel asked, the edge still in his tone but he could feel his resolve softening, somehow feeling bad for this little girl despite his own problems.

"No," was all she offered, glaring at Joel again.

"Are you in some sort of trouble, kid?" Eugene's voice asked from across the fire. The silence that followed was deafening, only the crackle from the fire filling the air. Ellie's eyes shot over to Eugene, looking him up and down, trying to keep up her steely resolve before giving up and turning her back on the group, announcing she was going to bed, and burying herself in the sleeping bag that was way too big for her.

Joel stared at the back of her head, trying to connect the dots with the context he had available to him, but he couldn't figure it out. Tommy shifted next to him, clearly lost in his own thoughts, as well. Wondering for the first time if he had gotten them all in over their heads.

The following morning, Tommy sent Jake and Jesse back home to let everyone know they were going to be a few days late. The three remaining men and Ellie packed up their supplies early, hitting the trail as soon as possible, ready to make a dent in the long road ahead. Eugene led the way, followed by Tommy, then Joel brought up the rear, his eyes burning holes in the back of Ellie's head as she clung to Tommy's denim jacket to keep her balance on the back of his horse.

Joel chewed the inside of his cheek, still feeling bitter, about everything. You, Tommy, Ellie. All of it. Since he couldn't get to you, and Tommy already got him in too deep, he chose to direct his energy towards Ellie when they took a break midday.

"Marlene send you with any food, or are you takin' that from us, too?" Joel asked, sitting down on a fallen tree trunk with a groan.

"I have food. And what else could I have possibly taken from you?" Ellie replied curtly, sitting further down the log as she opened her pack to fish out some granola bars.

"Time," Joel snapped. "And we don't even know why we're doin' it."

"Isn't Marlene paying you guys?" she replied with a huff. Tommy's eyes toggled back and forth between Joel and Ellie, becoming exasperated with the constant bickering.

"Can you just drop it, Joel?" Tommy asked. "Who cares? It's an easy gig, and we get meds out of it."

"Oh, she's giving you meds? Wow, she must be really desperate," Ellie chimed in.

"Alright, I've had enough," Joel said, standing up to tower over the girl. "Spit it out. What're we doin' here?"

"Fine, Joel," she said, stretching out each syllable before standing up, fists clenched at her sides. The way she said his name set his teeth on edge. "You wanna know how you're helping slavers move cargo? That the answer you're looking for?"

The three men froze, clearly not expecting that. Tommy stood up now, his head swiveling between Eugene and Joel as he processed the information just dropped on them.

"Wait-" Tommy said, stretching his arm out to Ellie, but she cut him off.

"Yeah, that's right. You still think this is a pain for you?" she snapped, glaring at Joel even though Tommy was the one who spoke.

"Stop!" Joel shouted, holding his hands up in the air as silence fell over the camp. He pointed his finger to Ellie.

"You. Explain. Now."

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose as he silently listened to Ellie tell her story. Her parents were dead. She was taken from her aunt and uncle's house at a young age, forced into slavery for the past few years: laundry, cooking, cleaning. Sometimes for twelve hours a day. Said she's been with the Fireflies a long time, that they keep moving her from base to base but she claimed she didn't know why. Joel had to wonder how much of what she was saying was the truth. There was no doubt something was happening at that hospital, but slaves? Something just didn't add up.

When she finished her story, she nervously glanced around at the men, waiting for one of them to say something. Tommy sighed and motioned to the woods.

"We need to talk about this. Privately," Tommy said, narrowing his eyes at Ellie. "You stay here."

"Fine. Not like I can make it on my own out there, anyway," she said with a snort. She picked up a stick from the ground and began drawing into the loose dirt at her feet.

"We're takin' her back, givin' back the meds, and goin' home," Joel said the moment they were out of earshot. Tommy shook his head.

"Joel-"

"This is enough, Tommy! This ain't our business. Any other option here puts the whole town at risk, puts Maria at risk, puts-" he stopped himself, biting his tongue before saying your name. He hadn't thought about you for the past half hour. A new record.

Tommy wasn't an idiot. He knew something was going on, but he couldn't focus on it, having a much bigger problem to sort out.

"She's a kid. We can't take her back, and we can't take her to Salt Lake City. It ain't right," said Tommy gently, hoping he would make his brother see through whatever was plaguing his mind and look at the bigger picture. Joel frowned and glared at the grass below his boots, clenching and unclenching his jaw as his mind struggled to wrap itself around the situation.

"Eugene?" Tommy said, turning to raise his eyebrows at the older, and suspiciously quiet, man. Eugene sighed, dropping his shoulders like he was carrying an enormous weight.

"I agree with Tommy," he said, and Joel spun on his heel, angrily pacing a few feet away to take some deep breaths.

"So, what? We take her to Jackson? We don't show people where we live for a fuckin' reason," Joel reminded them, his back still turned on the two men.

"We take her back, just a bit, til we can find where her aunt and uncle were livin', and we'll take her back home," Tommy said, the gears in his head turning as he formulated the plan on the spot. "In the meantime, we tell the Fireflies she ran off in the middle of the night. Maybe if we can get those guns to 'em, we can still keep the antibiotics."

Joel scoffed and shook his head, turning around to glare at his younger brother.

"This is stupid and risky. Lyin' to those people don't seem like a good move to me."

"Yeah, well, it's the only move we got, Joel. Otherwise, we're just as bad as them," said Tommy, his eyes drifting through the trees to make sure Ellie was still perched on the log where they left her. "I won't ask you to help take her back to her family."

"Damn right, you won't," Joel muttered, rolling his shoulders angrily. He stared off in the direction of Ellie, his jaw ticking off to the side with his hands on his hips, lost in thought.

He shouldn't have gone on this trip.

"Alright, is it settled, then? Can we hit the road, go back home?" Eugene asked, clearly tired of the bickering. Joel glared at the other two men before stomping back over to Ellie, who stood when she heard the men approaching, eyes flicking to each of their faces. Joel brushed past her to scoop up his bag from the ground and jumped back up on his horse with a grunt. At least he won't have to be away from you any longer. Not that he was sure what to even say, he just knew he needed to see you.

"C'mon, kid. We're takin' you to our town," Tommy said, motioning for her to grab her things and follow him to his horse.

"Really?" she asked excitedly, a small smile playing on her face for the first time.

"'Til we can get you back to your family, yeah," he replied, holding an arm out to help her scramble up the back of his horse.

Joel remained quiet the next day and a half, inwardly brooding about the potential blowback from taking this kid, which then morphed into nerves when he realized he was a few hours away from seeing you again.

When they arrived through the gates of Jackson, he didn't watch Ellie's eyes light up when she first saw the town, the people, the animals, kids her age playing. Maybe if he wasn't so focused on searching for your face in the small crowd that welcomed them back, then he would have seen how happy Ellie was. How, for maybe the first time in years, she felt a spark of hope. Maybe if he wasn't so focused on the ache in his chest when he didn't see you, it wouldn't have come as a surprise when Ellie snuck off the first chance she got, bobbing and weaving down the busy street, eager to see what the town had to offer.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

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acaciusbride · 1 year

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Sharing Is Caring 🌶️🌶️ { Mafia!AU Joel Miller x Reader x Javier Peña }

{{ Several people asked what would happen if mafia enforcer Joel and corrupt agent Javi existed in the same universe. Then several others suggested the reader should be in a sandwich between them. I’m personally inclined to agree. This is the result. There’s no plot; it’s just smut. }}

CW: 18+ only / smut / language / age gap / degrading talk / unsafe sex / oral sex (m!receiving) / threesome / proceed at own caution?

This fic is for @joelsgirl xoxo

——

You’re more than aware that you’re in a dangerous position. Both these men could kill you, think nothing of it, and bury you in a shallow grave somewhere. Hell, nobody would even bother looking. Except maybe the other.

You had never meant to become caught between two men who had more than enough hate and rivalry between them already. Two opposing sides of one coin; a corrupt DEA agent, and the right hand man of the local mafia.

And then there’s you. You serve drinks at a club they both frequent. Dance when you feel like it. Flirt with whoever catches your eye. In this instance, it’s gotten you in a whole load of trouble, with two dangerous men who don’t want to share you.

Too bad, because you’re not entirely sure you want to choose between them.

You were Joel’s first, one of his girls, his favourite. Then Javi got to you, fully intending on interrogating you for information about Joel’s criminal dealings. Only to end up fucking you senseless on the floor instead.

They don’t play fair, and their hate for each other is clear as day, but where you’re concerned? They’re willing to compromise.

It’s intoxicating, knowing you have so much sway over two men who could destroy you without blinking. You don’t take advantage of it, toeing a fine line to keep yourself safe, but you refuse to choose a side.

Which has led you to this situation, pinned between two men who hate each other, who at any other moment would be pointing weapons and trading insults. Brought to a stalemate by their mutual need for you.

You can’t ever say you don’t have power in this life.

The resemblance between them, physically, is startling. They could be brothers, even if Joel is older. Both attractive as hell. Both dangerous. Both fucking incredible in bed.

Joel’s mouth trails kisses down your bare throat, finding a spot he likes before he bites down, sucks a mark into sensitive skin.

“Possessive, much, Miller?” Javi almost drawls it, his accent thicker than usual as he watches, his fingers tracing circles on your hips. He can’t talk; he can’t keep his hands off you, grinding his still clothed cock against your bare ass.

How is it that you’re completely naked and neither of them have taken off anything more than their coats? You suppose it’s only fair that they at least manage to conspire against you for something.

“Reminding her of her place.” Joel doesn’t even bother looking at the other man, licks the mark he’s just left on you.

“Pretty sure she knows her place.” Javi lays a light slap to your ass. “It’s right where she wants to be.”

Of the pair, he’s the least likely to underestimate you. Has a feeling you’re in this situation because you want to be, that in spite of everything, you’re the one in control here.

Joel hates that he agrees with his rival, makes a somewhat grouchy noise of agreement, gives a noncommittal jerk of the head.

“If by that you mean on her knees or on her back with one of our cocks in her, I’m unfortunately inclined to agree.”

You love how they talk about you, like you’re not there. Like you’re just an object for their pleasure. Even more delicious is the way you’re literally pressed between them, Javi grinding against your ass, Joel against your cunt, neither of them trying to disguise how much they want you.

“Definitely.” Javi wraps his hand around your hair, makes a fist in it, turns your head so he can kiss you. It’s not a sweet kiss, not really, more rough and needy and possessive. Like he’s proving a point.

Maybe he is, but Joel doesn’t comment. He knows this alliance is only temporary, doesn’t want to tread on Javi’s toes too heavily. The agreement formed, the bribes and the information passed between them, is as delicate as a house of cards, and you’re the foundation.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss him off, just a little, to see the way you lean into the agent, lips parted, moaning into his mouth. He doesn’t like seeing you so fucking needy for anyone else, even though he’s never officially decided you’re his.

He shouldn’t fucking have to. Everyone else gives you a wide berth, knowing he’s about two steps behind you, possessive and silent as a shadow. Apparently that menacing act doesn’t apply to Javi, doesn’t stop him from throwing down a challenge.

You know you should - theoretically - make a decision, but you’re selfish, and why not admit it? They’re both dangerous, sexy, and you love that they fight over you.

Joel’s rough, scarred hand cups your bare cunt, sliding two thick fingers into you. He’s not playing fair, but it’s immensely fucking satisfying to know that this time, when you moan into Javi’s mouth, it’s because of him.

The latter lets you go, and you get about twenty seconds to breathe before it’s Joel who drags you in, tongue sliding into your mouth and licking against yours in rhythm with his fingers inside you. He can feel you dripping down his knuckles, feel how eager and needy you are, not just for him, but for both of them.

“Such a good, obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Joel removes his fingers from you, turns your body so your back is to his chest. “You’re going to be a good girl and suck his cock now.”

If it wasn’t such a damn good idea, one that benefits him, Javi might have had a dig at Joel for calling the shots, but, well… you’ve got such soft, warm little hands, so eager as you look at him with big doe eyes as you unzip his jeans, pull his hard cock out and stroke it gently.

He hadn’t been so sure about getting you on your knees on a bed between the two of them, but well…

“You just want her pussy first.” He says it anyway, rolling his eyes at Joel.

You bat your eyes at Javi as you settle into a comfortable position, on your knees, your ass pressed against Joel, flick your tongue out to give the tip of his cock a tiny lick.

“We both know you like fucking me when I’m full of his cum.”

He’s not even going to protest that. There’s something immensely filthy about it, about sliding his cock into your tight little cunt after Joel’s used you, fucking a mixture of all three of you deep into you.

Besides the point, you choose that moment to wrap your soft, soft lips around his cock, taking his entire length into your throat, humming softly at the taste of him.

Behind you, Joel strokes himself slowly, watches you for a moment. Waits until you’ve pulled back, teasing the other man by sucking just the tip of his cock to line himself up with your dripping cunt and slam in to the hilt.

The momentum pushes you forward, forcing you to take far more of Javi’s length into your throat than you were prepared for, but to your credit, you don’t choke.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Javi smirks, dark eyes glittering with sadistic amusement as he surveys Joel.

“Fuck off.” The older man rolls his eyes, rough hands on your hips, holding you in place. “She can take it.”

You feel a surge of pride at that, at how well Joel knows your limits, knows what you can handle. He’ll never admit it, but a small part of him cares about you, beyond the physical and sexual aspects of things.

He starts to move properly, drilling his thick cock deep into you, letting the force of his thrusts push you forward, helping you take Javi deeper into your throat, drawing groans from both men.

It’s beyond empowering, knowing that you’re responsible for this, for the sounds they’re making, for the way you can feel Javi’s thigh shaking as you suck on him.

Joel doesn’t relent, not for a moment, slamming into you hard and fast, making you scream around Javi’s cock, knees shaking. Joel’s hands on your waist hold you up, but eventually Javi has to place your hands on his hips to give you something to hold onto.

They’re both rough, relentless, and you love it, feeling every inch of both of them, every slap Joel lays to your ass as he slams into you. He won’t last much longer, he knows this much. You’re too tight, too wet and needy for him, and the sight of you drooling over his rival’s cock is doing… questionable things to him.

Even worse - better? - when you tighten around him, moaning around Javi, cunt soaking his cock drilling into you, giving him more ability to get deeper and deeper inside you, fucking you through the intensity of your release.

He’s close and he knows it. He knows it, you know it, and so does Javi.

“Gonna cum in her already, old man? Can’t say I blame you, she has the tightest cunt I’ve ever seen, but damn.” He’s lazy in his taunting, in the way he’s rocking his hips into your throat, enjoying the way you work your tongue around him, the way your doe eyes are watching him, half rolled back from the feeling of Joel fucking into you.

“Thought I told you to shut the fuck up.” Joel almost growls it, but he doesn’t argue beyond that. He’s too close, you’re too tight, tiny little cunt milking his cock like you were made for it.

Leaning down over you, he pulls you up, away from Javi, crushes your back against his chest as he slams into you, grinding in deep and staying there.

“Such a good fucking girl, so fucking tight for me, such a sweet little pussy, gonna fill you up so good…”

It’s a string of filth that trails off into senseless growls as he slams you down onto his cock, drags another orgasm out of you as he holds you in place as he fills you, hot thick ropes deep into your aching, fluttering cunt.

He stays there for a moment, wants to be selfish, but it’s not all about him. He wants to see you overstimulated, sobbing and begging and needy for the both of them. Still, he’s a little reluctant to release his hold on you, pull out of your heat, idly watching as some of his release drips out of you onto the bed.

Joel likes you on all fours, or riding him, but Javi is the opposite. He likes you pressed beneath him, likes the feel of you under him. Once Joel releases you, he pulls you against his chest, kisses you again before dragging your legs out from under you, pinning your body beneath his.

You don’t even get a chance to react, not really, breath leaving your lungs as he nudges your thighs open with his knee, tosses one leg up over his shoulder before he slams into you, every inch of him sliding in at once, made easier by the slickness of your need and Joel’s cum.

He’s big, and it should hurt, but you’re so wet and needy that it doesn’t, barely stings. The position he has you in isn’t particularly comfortable, but it lets him get deep, lets him lean down and devour your mouth in hungry kisses whenever he feels like it, which is often.

You won’t admit it, but you love how he has such a fixation on kissing you, on nipping at your lips. He doesn’t need you to admit it; he can see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you kiss him back, hook your free leg around his waist as he pounds into you.

Joel lazes back on the bed, watches you with mild interest. You’re so responsive to both of them, but in different way. That’s almost reassuring. That you don’t respond to them both in the same way. That there’s a difference. He doesn’t know why it calms him, makes him less jealous, but it does. He knows how you are with him, and that’s good enough.

Instead he reaches out to stroke your hair, caressing softly as Javi drags his cock out of you, slams back in, over and over until you’re delirious from the pleasure of it, cunt tightening around him.

“That’s it, querida, take it,” Javi soothes you as he drills into you, fucking you hard and fast, sitting up, tossing your other leg over his other shoulder, getting rougher, more erratic.

Joel leans in, kisses you to muffle your screams as you tighten, pulse around the cock buried in your cunt. Your release is what drives Javi straight into his own, over the edge, hands on your waist tight enough to bruise.

“Fuck, baby, so fucking good…” his hips piston against yours, burying himself to the hilt and staying there; you’re so over sensitive you can feel every inch of his cock throbbing inside you as he fills you, adding his own release to the mix inside you, overflowing, dripping out down his cock onto the sheets.

You’re an absolute mess. Beyond a mess. Shaking, trembling on the bed, back arching as you try to recover. Javi gives you a moment, trying to breathe himself, before he pulls out of you, admires the mess he’s made. Joel shifts to take his place, pulling you gently against him, your head in his lap.

“Fuck, should take a picture.” He mutters to himself, surveying you a bit longer before he rolls off the bed, zips his jeans up.

“Won’t stop you.” You answer sleepily.

“You might not, but he will.” Javi nods over at Joel, who’s still idly playing with your hair, having already fixed his own pants a while back. “Ain’t that right?”

“That’s right.” Joel runs his hand along your side possessively; the game is over now, and he’s no longer interested in sharing you. He tolerates this because you want it, but he has no interest in letting Javi get cocky.

“Didn’t think so.” Javi grins, loops his coat over his shoulder, digs a packet of cigarettes out the pocket and lights one. You watch him, still dazed, as he slides his shoes back on, cigarette dangling from his lips.

He crosses back to the bed, drops the end of the cigarette into the ashtray on the side table, then leans down to kiss your forehead. Mostly to piss Joel off, but also because he wants to.

“I’ll catch you around, Miller.” He crosses the room, to the door, turns back to give you a brief fleeting look before he’s gone, closing the door behind him, leaving you nestled in Joel’s arms, and any resentment he may have about that with you.

#my writing #Joel Miller #Javier Pena #Joel Miller x Reader #Javier Pena x Reader #Joel Miller smut #Javier Pena smut #mafia!joel #corrupt!javi #mafia au #the last of us #narcos #the last of us fic #Joel Miller fic #Javier Pena fic

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Needy

Part 2 to Give In

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut (f receiving oral), broken leg, pain, depression, anxiety, longing, needy joel, reunion of sorts, cringe nickname from maria, malnutrition, descriptions of not eating and weight loss and physical changes due to that, brief grief

a/n hi i wrote smut. god help me, i hated writing it. i hope you guys like it, i tried to make it somewhat good. this takes place after the first game, or when the series ends. spoilers definitely. the middle where you don’t see ellie and joel for the four years there just living in jackson, right when joel comes back from saving ellie.

summary Y/N gets invited to Jackson by her Aunt Maria

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read time: 12 mins 25 seconds

After a few days you realized Joel wasn’t coming back. The sad realization sink in and really took its toll on you. FEDRA officers came to make sure you weren’t dead in your apartment, and with that made you go back to work.

Same day, over and over again once again. Take care of the babies in the QZ. Watch people get hung in the square. Eat the same, boring, disgusting meal FEDRA gave to you. Live in the empty memories that lingered all over town.

Tess was gone too. You figured they were both dead in a ditch or moved on to something better and bigger than this damn QZ. Part of you wondered if Joel just wanted an out; if he was sick of having you as a responsibility and left because of you. And it ate you alive.

It had been a month. You were still trying to reach your Aunt over the radio, just as Joel had been trying to reach his brother. It’s something the two of you bonded over the last few weeks he was here. Your Aunt Maria was located somewhere out west. You weren’t really sure where, but you knew she was still alive. You felt her spark. Ever since your mom and your uncle died when you were small, she had watched you until she was promised a ‘better life’ somewhere in… Wyoming? Montana? Idaho? You weren’t sure. She left you in the QZ because she thought it would be better for your safety. You were a preteen at the time, and for what it was worth it was probably a better idea than to track across country.

Sitting, scrolling through channels you hopelessly looked for Maria’s signal. She always used the lower frequencies, usually this specific one you were listening to. Just as you were about to click the machine off, you heard it.

“Lovebug?”

You gasped and cheered. Lovebug is what she called you when you were younger, a nickname of sorts.

“Auntie?” you called back, hoping this wasn’t one of your delusions seeping back in. “I’m here!” she called. You could hear a group of people cheering in the back.

She gave you a quick set of coordinates and cut off communication. It was brief and that hurt, but life finally had its purpose back. No more Joel, no more overthinking, no more hurting from how he left you.

You basically crawled towards the gate of Jackson. Unsure if this was even the right place, you hoped your topography skills were as good as you thought they were. From stealing four cars, foraging for gas (which there was barely any of) and walking over three thousand miles, you prayed this place was anything close to heaven. You had avoided getting bitten or scratched, but killing countless infected on the way. At least you would get to see your Aunt one last time.

The people had their guns pointed at you as you expected. “P-please.” you pleaded with your hands up. You were sure to be almost unrecognizable. Hair was greasy and matted, you had lost a significant amount of weight, and your clothes were tattered. Even in the apocalypse you liked to stay neat, but at this point in your journey you had stopped caring.

“Maria—she’s my a-aunt.”

“I’m going to need Maria at the east gate along with a medic. Stat.” a person called through the radio. The doors opened slightly.

“Y/N?” you heard your Aunt cry. You raised your head enough to see her run towards you. She held you in her arms and cried. The medics were weary behind her, letting this sweet family reunion continue.

You hugged her and tried to hold on to her shoulders the best you could. There was something different. Blinking a few times to get the icicles out of your eyelashes that had formed you realized she was pregnant.

“Y-your pregnant?” you asked. She shook her head and smiled. “I have a lot to explain. I’ll come with you to med.”

They had a makeshift stretcher with a thick piece of fabric held together by two refined pieces of wood. A blanket was placed over you as they carried you across this town. From what you could see, you were in heaven. Dead, no longer here. This whole thing was a mirage.

“It’s real, I promise you honey.” Maria assured you. “H-how?”

“I can explain once your stable. You’ve been out in the cold for too long.”

You closed your eyes, praying it wasn’t for the last time.

Awake. Is what you were. You weren’t sure where, or how, but you were awake. It was dark outside. The little log cabin you were in had a curtain hanging to divide you from other stations and medical supplies. You tried to move.

Your leg was stiff. A large groan escaped from you as you tried to move it.

“No,” you heard from your side. A man sat there. He had dark hair that was longer than the usual cut. His thick black mustache sat upon his lip. He had a tanned skin tone and from what you heard, a thick southern accent that reminded you of Joel. What was a southerner doing so far North?

“Try not to move it. You got a small fracture. Nothing serious, but you will be in the boot for a few weeks.”

His eyes darted to the medical walking boot that sat against the wall. “Who are you? Where is Maria?”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm. “I’m Tommy, Maria’s husband.”

It started to click. “Oh,”

Didn’t Joel mention his brothers name was Tommy? Or was it Timmy. You couldn’t remember. A southerner out west, you doubted it was the brother Joel was looking for. God, why are you still thinking about him? Even now, after you nearly died crossing the country? Sneaking out of the QZ? You were ashamed that your first thought after a brush with death was Joel Miller.

“I let her get some rest, she was here all day. It’s a lot of stress you know…”

Tommy was baiting to see if you knew. “For the baby.” you confirmed.

He shook his head. “Crazy, isn’t it?” he said.

Tommy explained Jackson. How it was functional, safe, and everyone was happy. Maria was right, this was heaven. He explained that there wasn’t any availability in Jackson at the moment, but Maria insisted of inviting you after she found out she was pregnant. Tommy explained something about jealousy and families, but it didn’t make sense to you. Apparently he had just gotten some family back, and Maria wanted hers back too. Since there was no availability, you were going to be staying with a girl in her house. Her name was Ellie. She was quite a few years younger than you, but Maria thought your personalities would get along well. You trusted your Aunt’s judgement, but was concerned when you found out you were to be living with a fifteen year old.

“Get some shut eye. I can help you move in tomorrow. It’s gon’ be difficult on that boot.”

It was early morning and Tommy was walking back to his house. Jackson was almost silent, besides for the early birds chirping in the trees and the sounds of the chefs getting ready for breakfast in the nearby mess hall. He stopped in front of Joel’s house and sighed. The large, two story garage behind the house is where Ellie lived, and where you would be staying until they could build you a house. But building a house took time and resources. He prayed that you and Ellie got along. It was either living with Ellie or Joel—Ellie definitely seemed like the safe choice in that situation. Joel wasn’t too friendly to strangers.

Slowly, he entered his own home. Maria was asleep on the couch, cradling her stomach. Tommy watched his beautiful wife for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall. She seemed so peaceful in that moment. Maria was due in a few weeks, and Tommy knew he wouldn’t have the luxury of this for much longer.

“Maria,” he whispered, stroking his hand over her hair and gently waking her up. She jolted awake, like most people did in this world, and was at ease when she found out it was just Tommy.

She put her coat on and grabbed the one she had gotten for you and followed her husband to the medic ward.

“Good morning,” Maria announced, dropping the coat on your stomach. This woke you. Groggily, you looked up at your Aunt with a displeased face. Tommy reached for the boot in the corner. You slowly moved your legs off the bed, groaning in pain. “Are you sure you don’t have anything for the pain?” you gasped. “Not for pain like this, I’m sorry.” Maria assured you. Tommy slowly guided your leg in to the medical boot and tightly strapped it close.

All night you had prepared for the depression that was going to follow with this damned boot. Not being able to move around, depending on others. It hurt too much to start to care about someone else, let alone have them take care of you. You hated to admit it, but this town could be gone within the span of a day.

“Now, you won’t need crutches. Give it a go.” Tommy said, extending his hands to you. They were coarse and dry, and that was a bit off putting to you. The second you put pressure down on your leg it felt like fire was streaming in your veins. Maria noticed your face tense and your hand grip harder on her husbands forearms. You sat back down on the bed, subduing your pain somewhat. “Shit,” Tommy sighed. “Do you think it was worse than we thought? Could the doctor have measured it wrong?” Maria whispered to Tommy. You heard bits and pieces of their conversation after that, but all you could focus on was your leg throbbing.

Ultimately, the two of them decided to get a wheelchair for you to use temporarily and be on strict bed rest. Yay.

“I dunno how I’m supposed to…” Maria said, grunting as she began to lift the handles of your wheelchair. “Don't!” Tommy yelled, stopping his very pregnant wife from potentially harming herself or the baby. “You wait here, lemme get Joel.”

Ice seemed to jolt through your veins when he said that. “Joel?” you asked suddenly in an alarmed tone. Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he can help us get down the steps.”

You froze as Tommy began to walk away. You looked up at Maria.

“What’s his last name?”

“Miller. He did spend some time in the Boston QZ… maybe you’ll recognize him.”

No no no no, no no no. This cannot be happening. This is a fever dream, you convinced yourself. This isn’t happening. This isn't real.

“You alright?” Maria asked, looking down from behind you. She was concerned at your lack of response. As she asked that, Tommy began to return. And along side him walked the man you had to convince yourself you weren't in love with.

Maybe he wouldn't recognize you.

You had lost a significant amount of weight. You sliced off half of the length of your hair while you made your journey just simply because it was annoying. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize you. You prayed he didn't. Oh god, what if he thought you were the weird stalker girl who followed him here simply because she wanted to be with him? That’s terrifying. Stalkers existed in the fungal world, but you weren't one in the real world.

“This Ellie’s new roommate?”

His voice filled your skin with goosebumps. Not looking up, you kept your eyes glued on your feet in the wheelchair footrests. “Yup, she’s all yours.” Maria said chipperly, giving Joel jurisdiction to the wheelchair handles. Tommy counted down from four as the two men struggled to make a clear way down the wooden steps of the medical ward. Hearing Joel grunt brought back to many explicit memories, it honestly made your core begin to warm. Joel wheeled you all the way to a house. “Your gon’ have to build a ramp,” Tommy teased Joel. Joel sighed, picking up the wheelchair once again in synch with Tommy as they struggled to make sure your wheels didn’t bump the old, cracked wooden stairs of the house.

As they wheeled you inside the house, the two middle aged men were out of breathe.

“You know…” Joel said, catching his breathe by holding on to the side of his wall. “Those damned brick stairs are gonna be hell. If she wants, she’s welcome to my couch until she’s well enough to walk.”

As Tommy spun around your wheelchair, your eyes met with Joel’s for the first time in over five months.

And he recognized you. Oh, he totally recognized you. His facial structure seemed to shift as he realized that the girl he just offered to live on his couch was you.

“Alright,” Tommy said, not realizing what was going on. His smooth voice luckily interrupted the longing look you and Joel were sharing. “I’m gonna go fix you up some breakfast from the mess hall. You good from here?” You nodded your head slowly.

“Don’t bother, I got plenty here.” Joel offered. Your eyes widened, realizing he wanted to get you alone with him. “You sure?” Tommy questioned. “Go find your wife, take her to a nice breakfast.” Joel suggested. Tommy agreed and promptly left the house.

Joel sat in an old recliner across from you. Your finger scratched at the old medical sticker stuck to the wheelchair’s arm.

“How did-” “Are you-”

The two of you let out an embarrassed scoff. “You go,” he offered. “No you-” you insisted. After bantering for a few seconds, Joel broke the awkwardness.

“How did you find me?”

You sighed. So you did come off as the stalker-ish, jealous girl. “It’s not like that, I promise you. M-Maria is my aunt, the one I was trying to find when…”

“When I was searchin’ for Tommy, yeah.” Joel finished your sentence. “She invited me here, gave me coordinates. I didn’t know you were here until five minutes ago, Joel.”

His name sounded weird coming off your lips after filling your head for so many months. Joel let out a sigh of relief. “You look different,”

“Yeah, well two months across country with almost no food and no ammo can change a person.”

He sighed. “And you…?” he asked, gesturing for you to ask your question.

“Are you mad?”

Joel chuckled.

“Your wondering if I’m mad?”

“Well yeah, I mean we didn't necessarily end on good terms.”

“Good terms?” Joel laughed. “I thought about that damned kiss for months, Y/N.”

A smile sparked to your lips, but slowly left when you remembered. Tess.

“And where is Tess? I’m sure she would be happy to see me.”

Joel’s eyes darted to the floor.

“She didn’t make it,” he said bluntly.

Memories flooding back of the good times you and Tess had made you sad. She was gone. The closest thing you had to a friend was Tess.

“Well,” Joel said, breaking the awkward silence. “Would you like some breakfast? Better than those sardines…” You chuckled a bit.

“Will you help me?” you asked, looking now up at Joel. He nodded, reaching out for your hands. He pulled you up, and the wheelchair rolled backwards. As you tried to steady yourself, the movement of the wheelchair put you off and you began to slip. “Shit,” you yelped as your boot hit the floor. Joel them promptly picked you up under the armpits and held you up unnaturally high. Naturally, your good leg wrapped around his waist, as the other one did its best attempt at following your other leg. His hands rested under your butt, one hand grasping on to it. You now looked down at him as he held you. “Giving me flashbacks,” you chuckled, a hand coming to steady yourself on his back. The other hand traveled just below his hairline on his neck. It was within seconds that Joel’s mouth was on yours.

He was eager. He hadn’t been with you for a good seven months. He needed something, even if it was just a taste of you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling away. “I missed that.”

Your hand had traveled up his head, now grasping his graying hair. Both of your breaths were heavy. “Joel,” you whispered. “Please.”

He nodded and slowly put you down on the couch. Your leg hit the ground with an oompf. He stood in front of you. The bulge in his pants was very prominent.

“May I?” he asked you, coming down to his knees. Joel was never this respectful back in Boston. He would take what he wanted when he wanted, with your consent of course. He never asked for permission because he was always confident that he had it; and he did. Something in him had changed. It was very obvious that it did. You weren't sure if it was Tess’s passing, the brutal crossing of the country, or the argument the two of you had before. But something had definitely changed.

With the confirmation he was granted, he slowly lifted your butt off the sofa to remove your pants. Once your pants were by your thighs he yanked them off. One leg stayed trapped over your boot. There was the Boston Joel coming back, seeping through this new shell of a man he was. Your panties were soaked per usual. “Always so wet for me,” Joel muttered, pushing your stomach back on the couch. He took his middle finger and pushed your panties aside, but also coming back and giving a quick swipe between your folds. A soft moan came from your lips. You adjusted yourself so that you were on full display. Your hips rocked back as Joel wettened his fingers from you. His other hand rested on your thigh, holding it firmly as his thumb made soft circles on your inner thigh, dangerously close. You stirred as he finally inserted two fingers. “J-Joel…” you moaned, clenching around him.

“Just like that,” he said, slowly pumping in and out. “Good girl.”

The praise was almost enough to send you over the wall. He never gave you anything like this back in Boston. It was always to satisfy himself. You feel like this time Joel really, truly cared. He moved his hand from your thigh to your lower back, moving yourself closer to his face. His thumb brushed circles around your clit. “Do you want it?” he asked you. You looked down to his eager eyes. They seemed to melt at the sight of you. You shook your head. “With words…”

Boston Joel’s dominance had returned. “Y-yes.”

“Manners?” he asked, giving another deep circle around your clit. “Please, Joel. Please.”

You knew he liked when you used his name. “Good job,”

His tongue softly darted to your folds. A plethora of slurred swears and moans came from you as he began to eat you out. The sucking and slurping noises were almost pathetic; Joel was so needy. Both of his hands rested on your thighs, tightly holding on. As he took a second to re gain some air, his lips moaned against your clit. That was almost enough to make you cum. He licked his lips, and went back in. This time he could tell you were close. You were already contracting and he could feel the release building up in your core. “Come on baby, beg for it.”

“Let me cum Joel, please! I-I… please!”

He pulled away and kissed your folds. “Since you asked so nicely,”

His tongue seemed to dissolve inside of you as your orgasm began to hit you. “So good, good job baby. Ride it out.” he said, moving away from you. His thumb delved into your clit that made your legs begin to shake. “It’s okay, you got it.” Joel re assured you, holding down your knee on your injured jeg so it wouldn’t hurt. Once you came down from your high, he helped you put your pants back on. Slowly, he helped you get up and pulled your pants back up to your waist.

Holding you in his arms, the two of you stood.

“God, how I missed this.”

“God, how I missed you.”

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @undeniableadrenaline @evyiione @qualitypudding @jmillerswife @mxtokko @randomstory56 @misshoneypaper @sloanexx @jbcalway

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chaotic-mystery · 1 year

Note

cant stop thinking about jealous!joel miller and the way he’d react to seeing others flirt with you. just a little after your arrival to jackson, the three of you tired and just starting to socialize. you get talking with a friend of maria’s who introduced you. and joel is there watching, pretending to be interested in whatever the bored housewife hanging off his arm was even talking to him about. he burns with jealousy he doesn’t know what to do with and ends up crossing the bar to get to you. where he makes some kind of show of getting his hands on you and subtly proving his protectiveness and jealousy over other men talking to you. give it some real angst for me, please?

A/N: Bestie, I tried so hard for this and it's a little long, I hope I did it some justice!

“You’re what?” He shot up from the chair at the table and followed you down the hallway. “I’m going to the bar to go and be social, Joel. I’m fucking tired of being alone, I need more interaction. Besides, how would that look on us if we just stayed cooped up in the house instead of getting to know the people who were so kind to let us into their town?” you waited for a response, but it never came. You exited the bedroom and started for the door. “So are Ellie and I not enough for you anymore?” he shouted at you as you were about to swing the front door wide open. Stopping dead in your tracks, doorknob in hand, you spun around quickly. “Excuse me? No, you don’t get to throw that at me, asshole. I love you both dearly, but god damn...I can only take so many of her jokes, and I can only deal with you being so cold towards me for so long. I’m sorry if I want to go somewhere I actually feel wanted. So if you want to, you can tag along or you can stay here with Ellie and watch a movie.” You didn’t mean for the words to sound so harsh, but maybe you were glad they hurt him a little. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. A scoff left your lips and out the door you went not wanting him to see the tears trying to escape your eyes. The walk to the bar was quiet, neither one wanted to speak.

Once you got inside and ordered a drink, he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him. "For the record, I do want you, baby” Looking into those beautiful deep brown eyes was the biggest mistake you could’ve made. They always made you forgive him and you hated that. “Then act like it maybe” you snapped at him and gave his bottle a sarcastic clink with yours, making your way to Maria. Your hand brushed against her arm as you greeted one another and she told you she had some friends she wanted to introduce you to. Glancing behind you, your eyes found the woman next to Joel and he wasn’t entertained at all by her standing too close for his comfort, rambling on about god knows what. Maria introduced you to almost everyone there when you finally got to the last group of people. A pair of brothers and their friend were sitting at a table alone with beer bottles scattered across in front of them when you approached and Maria gave a quick introduction between everyone. She left to go find Tommy and you sat at the table with the men, asking where they were originally from and how everyone made it to Jackson.

Joel was eventually out of eyesight as everyone shuffled around the floor, but you knew he was still with the same woman only because her laugh echoed from the same spot behind the sea of people in front of your table. You couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to see Joel. A point had to be made though and he’s been distant towards you ever since you almost got killed when the patrolling people of Jackson didn’t know why you were there or that Joel was Tommy’s brother. So many apologies were said, but he didn’t want to hear it. Ever since then he hasn’t said much of anything, so it was a slap in the face to you when he asked if Ellie and him weren’t enough.

As the night went on, less and less people shielded you at the table. Joel's eyes landed on where you were, currently playing cards with the men you were actually enjoying talking to. His body was on fire with jealousy, because you couldn't see what he was seeing. They didn’t want to just chat and be friendly and play cards, they wanted more from you. The guy sitting next to you started inching closer, his arm finding its way around your shoulders. You kept knocking it down off of you as you just wanted to win this hand of cards and go home. “Stop, sweetheart. I’m just trying to make you feel comfortable.” the table erupted in laughs and you caught on to what was going on. “Well can we just finish this hand? I’m kinda tired, I need to get back to my boyfriend anyway.” That’s never scared off anyone before and you didn’t know what made you think that would work now. Looking beyond the ones sitting in front of you, you found Joel who had his chair planted just right so you were in his eyesight the entire time. The woman was leaning over him, hand on his thigh as she asked if she should get more beers for the two of them. “No, I think you should go home darlin. I’m sure you don’t want your husband to come lookin for you and find you draped all over me because you’re bored with him, and he’d try to kick my ass like it’s my fault, and the next thing you know you’re not bored because you’ll be taking care of him and his bloody nose.” She hopped down off the stool and gave Joel the middle finger as she walked by him, and a smirk grew on your lips. He couldn’t help but chuckle and look away from you.

“Boyfriend? Baby you’ve been here with us the past almost two hours, if you had a boyfriend, why would he let a pretty girl like you be here alone?” Your sight locked on the man laughing across the short table across from you, and you held your cards against your chest “I can take care of myself, that's why” and with that, you placed them down to show them you won the game. An arm made its way around you, only this time it was your waist as he pulled you close to congratulate you. You tried wiggling away, but his grip got tighter. Joel could see you struggling and that was all he needed to get up and make his way to your table. His hand landed firmly on the guy's shoulder that was around you and he gave it a good grip. “Do you wanna have a broken arm? If not I suggest you get the fuck off my girl because I will not hesitate and she won’t hesitate to take out your buddies.” You looked at Joel and restrained a grin as he yanked the guy's arm off you and held out his hand to help you up. He pulled you against his chest, his arm wrapped around you tightly like you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on, and gave you a deep kiss with his other hand cupping your cheek. The kiss said it all, the topic didn’t need to be rehashed. Needless to say, the next day you and Joel had to take the bed frame to the shop and put it back together and reinforce it better.

#this was so long im so sorry #joel miller #jealous!joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller drabble #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #please tell me if this was bad I don't think im good at angst #all I know is how to be a wh0re #anon request

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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Chosen to Deserve

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic!Ellie Williams x fem!reader)

Summary: “How can I teach her some way of being human that won’t destroy her? I would like to tell her, Love is enough, I would like to say, Find shelter in another skin. I would like to say, Dance and be happy. Instead I will say in my crone’s voice, Be ruthless when you have to, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it.” - Margaret Atwood [3.6k]

Warnings: all the drama of coming into Jackson, sibling turmoil, talks of Sarah and Jane, arguing, reader and Joel are both kinda dicks in this one but I get it

You hear the horses hooves before Joel can. You grab Ellie's arm and turn to run in the opposite direction when another masked person on a horse comes running up. At least a dozen of them flanking you on both sides and they all have weapons pulled. You don't even try to reach for your gun, and Joel does the same, pushing Ellie and you behind him and raising his hands. You and Ellie follow suit but keep her close enough for your hands to brush against each other. Her breathing is uneven and scared. Joel and one of the men have a conversation, but you can't focus on it. All you care about is Ellie. The man Joel was talking to gestures his gun at her.

"Take five steps back."

"She's not going anywhere." You say, and Joel mumbles your name.

"Shut the fuck up." The man spits.

"Easy," Joel jumps in. You don't know whether he's talking to you or the horseman, but you glare at him anyway. He ignores it and looks past you at Ellie, nodding at her. "You'll be okay." He says. She looks at you for confirmation, and your jaw clenches, but you nod at her scared eyes.

"Do what they say." You say gently, and she carefully takes several steps back. You turn your head to watch her, but a gun cocking turns your attention back to the people surrounding you. The man who told you to shut the fuck up is staring at you through squinted eyes, his shotgun pointed in your direction. You get the message. But she's too far away. You can't even see her in the corner of your eye. You want to grab her wrist and bring her back to you, but you don't move. The man whistles, and a dog appears out of nowhere. You can't remember the last time you saw a dog that wasn't feral.

"Last chance for a bullet," he says. "If you've been infected, he'll smell it, and he'll rip you apart." The dog barks and thrashes against the leash, and you hear Ellie gasp in fear. Goddammit, you think as the dog slinks over to Joel, smelling his shoes. There's no way out. You're too slow, and there are too many guns. You'd barely get your hands on your weapon before they'd kill you.

The dog jumps up on Joel and rears her head back. No one shoots. It must be her clear signal. The dog is called back before she's rereleased, this time to smell you. She repeats the action, and your shoulders drop.

"Satisfied?" You ask, and Joel says your name again like he's scolding you.

"One more." The man says as he rereleases the dog. She starts walking toward Ellie, and your heart beats in your face. You can hear her feet shuffling backward in the snow, and the dog growls at her. Your ears ring as you wait for the dog to knock her to the ground or worse. A bark pierces the air, and Joel jolts with the sound, but Ellie's laugh stops you from running toward her. You turn and see her giggling in the snow with the dog licking her face, completely safe. The dog is called back, and Ellie makes her way back to you. Nobody cocks a gun or yells at her to stop.

"You just bought yourself ten more seconds," the man says. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm just lookin' for my brother," Joel says. A woman makes her horse walk forward, and you tuck Ellie behind you.

"I'm okay." She whispers, but you don't say anything. You just watch Joel and the woman. She asks his name, and he tells her. She turns back to the man who yelled at you and says something you can't quite hear.

"Lower your weapons!" The woman yells. No one even flinches or tries to question her. They just do it. "We're taking them back with us."

In a few minutes, you're each given a horse and are told to follow the group. The journey "back" to wherever they're leading you takes about ten minutes, and the massive fort-like gate leaves you speechless. Joel glances back at you and Ellie and raises his eyebrows as if to say, "getta loada this shit." You shake your head and glance at Ellie, who has a ghost of a smirk on her lips.

Once you're through the gate, a small city reveals itself. There are people. Like, lots of people. None of them show weapons or look up when you pass. You even see small kids chasing each other with pink cheeks and too-big hats. You can't look at them for too long. There are stores full of food and warm clothes, shoemakers, fucking ironsmiths. You almost think you've fallen into an alternate dimension. You and Joel seem to land on the same person as you get further into town.

He has long curly hair and a dark mustache though he has the same patches Joel has in his beard. They hold themselves the same way, you realize. Like there's too much weight on their backs, but they're doing their best to hold it anyways. He looks good. Healthy. Definitely not in whatever danger you and Joel thought he was in the whole time. Joel calls his name, and Tommy comes bounding down the scaffolding and into his older brother's arms. It's sweet and, by the looks of it, desperately needed by both of the men.

You turn to look at Ellie and see her looking a little lost and the tiniest bit jealous as she watches the teary reunion. You nudge her with your elbow and mouth, "What a baby" to get her to smile. She gives you a small one but falls back into her pensiveness. You slide off your horse to shake Tommy's hand and introduce yourself.

"And this is Ellie," you say, gesturing to Ellie. She smiles and waves but doesn't get off her horse.

"Y'all hungry?" Tommy asks, and that gets Ellie's attention. She finally comes down to the ground, and you all walk to the dining hall.

It's the first hot meal you've had in months. You do your best not to scarf the food down like you want to and keep your manners around Tommy and Maria. Ellie, however, doesn't really care. Joel tries to correct her, and you give him a look.

What? His raised eyebrows ask.

Leave her alone. You jerk your head in her direction.

Look at her. He widens his eyes.

Stop. You roll your eyes and look at Tommy with a smile.

"So, how long have you been in Jackson?" You ask, and he takes a deep breath.

"Uh, a few years now. I bounced around for a while before settlin' here." He says with a soft smile that reminds you of early mornings with Joel. You have to look away.

"Ma'am, we're grateful for your hospitality and all, but it'd be nice to have a moment here just for family," Joel says, looking at Maria pointedly. You elbow him in the ribs, and he gives you another look.

"What?" He hisses.

"You're being rude." You whisper.

"You fuckin' hit me."

"Actually, uh..." Tommy says, reaching for Maria's left hand to bring the matching wedding rings to your attention for the first time. "Maria is family."

It's been a long day. You haven't seen Joel since he and Tommy disappeared into the bar this afternoon. Maria showed you and Ellie an available house you can stay in for the entirety of your time in Jackson, however long. She's been nice to Ellie, but she's made it clear she doesn't care for you or Joel. You're sure she's heard stories from Tommy about Joel and, therefore, can make assumptions about you. Still, she hasn't said anything explicit to you. You expect there to be a fight, though. There's no way there won't be one.

After you take showers and put down your heavy packs, Maria silently takes you to watch a movie in the same place you ate lunch. About halfway through, you glance at Ellie, settled in a chair, and decide to sneak out to the general store for supplies. It takes longer than you thought it would, but you find a new hat and gloves for Ellie. It'll be worth it for when you have to get back on the road. You’re excited to show her but she’s locked in her room when you returned to the house. You try getting her to talk to you, but she doesn’t even open the door. She just yells at you to ask Joel.

"Do you wanna tell me why Ellie is sulking in her room?" You ask as you turn the corner and walk into what used to be the primary bedroom. You find him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

"We got in a fight," he grumbles, pulling his head out of his hands to look at you. "Doesn't matter. Tommy's takin’ her to the Fireflies in the morning."

"What?" You ask. What the fuck did they talk about while they were alone?

"She'll be safer with him. Tommy knows Jackson better than anybody. It's better this way."

"I'm sure his pregnant wife would disagree with you."

"Don't start with that."

"This isn't Tommy's fight, and you know that. He doesn't even know about her and-"

"I told him," he says. You blink at him as you try to wrap your brain around what he just said. Anger rolls through you. It wasn't his place to tell Tommy without consulting you first. He can't keep making decisions about her without talking to you. "I told him everythin’, and he agreed to do it. Said it would take him a few days, but he would be fine."

"You're serious." It's meant to be a question, but it sounds more like a statement. His eyes are heavy as he nods.

"We were gonna go our separate ways soon enough."

"You promised Tess."

"I said a lot of shit I didn't mean," he snaps. "You should go with 'em if you think it's so unsafe. I'm sure they could use the extra hands."

"And what're you gonna do?"

"Go back to Boston and forget this ever happened." He says without hesitation. The implication that you would be on his list of things to forget hits somewhere deep in your chest. You start pacing, unsure of what to do with the buzzing behind your molars.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Joel, really? You got into a fight with a fourteen-year-old, and now you're gonna hightail it back to Boston? Just like that?" You scoff, and he stands from his place on the bed, getting in your face. You square your shoulders in a silent dare.

"She brought up Sarah."

"And Jane," you say. "And Tess. And Bill and Frank. And Sam and Henry. You really wanna keep going? Because I can play this game all day."

"Tommy is takin' her to the Fireflies. End of story." He tries, and you squint at him.

"Oh, so you're abandoning her with someone else because it's more convenient for you? Sounds real familiar."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me? I'm not the one going back to Boston because I'm afraid of a kid."

"It ain't about her. It's about Tommy-"

"Knowing this area better. I get it. But you know what he doesn't know? Ellie," you say. He wavers, stepping back a little, but you don't let him go that easy. "He doesn't know how to take care of her like you do. We've been traveling with her for six fucking months, and now you just want to dump her on someone else because it's hard? Because she brought up your kid? Huh?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything. He just stares past your face. "She's fourteen, Joel. Her job is to push your buttons just to see what comes out. She takes her anger out on you because she trusts you to handle it. She trusts you. We both do. But I swear to God, Joel, if you do this..." You're not sure what threat you wanted to tack onto the end of that sentence, but it dies in your throat. Your chest is pressed against his, and your breathing is ragged. You step away, finally, and make for the door.

Originally, you were going to sleep in bed with him. He even joked about it when Maria mentioned something about the house before you split off. Now, you'll sleep on the fucking couch if you have to. You're angry. You should be slamming doors and stomping down the stairs, but your hand lingers on the doorknob for some reason. You turn back to him.

"D'you really think you're the only person who hurts when you look at her?" You ask. "She... she is everything Jane will never be. I know that. But she's not Jane. And she's not Sarah. She's Ellie, and she needs help. If you can't handle that, then fine. Go back to Boston, but don't blame a kid for something you can't face."

Joel is gone by the time you wake up. No note. No goodbye. Nothing. He even made the bed, so there'd be absolutely no proof he was ever here. You want to fight with him again. You want to yell at each other until you figure it out or come to a place of understanding. You want him to want to figure it out with you. But the world has never been kind enough to care about what you want. So, you brush your teeth, wash your face, and push thoughts of Joel away. You have to get her to the Fireflies safely. One of you should fulfill the promise you made Tess.

When Tommy arrives on the doorstep with a sympathetic look and a rifle slung over his shoulder, you smile softly at him before opening the door wider. He shuts the door behind him as you move to the living room and pull your boots on. He walks over and plays with the blanket swung over the back of the couch.

"You know, there are beds upstairs." He says, and you nod.

"Joel and I got into a fight." You say. He's married. He should know how it goes.

"Seems to be a recurring theme with him."

"Yeah," you finish tying your bootlaces and sit back to look at him. "You really don't have to do this, you know."

"I know. I just... feel like I owe him," he shrugs, the rifle moving with his shoulders, and you sigh. "Plus, Maria's already mad at me bout it. Might as well finish it."

"Both the Miller men seem to be battin' a thousand this week." You laugh. There's movement upstairs, and you take a deep breath. Tommy reaches out and squeezes your shoulder, and you let him. In the twenty-four hours you've known him, you've realized Tommy is gentler, softer than Joel is. Still, Joel told you the stories of how the hot desert sun beat down on Tommy's baby face as he held a gun bigger than him. You know he's just as dangerous as Joel. You just wish Joel bore it as well as Tommy does.

"I should go talk to her." You mumble as you stand. He nods and wishes you good luck before walking up the stairs toward Ellie's room.

A closed door has never been as ominous as this one. You push through the pit of dread in your stomach and knock on the wood, only opening it when you receive a response. Then, like watching fall leaves, you watch her shoulders drop in disappointment. She thought—no, hoped— you were Joel. You walk over and sit next to her on the window seat, putting a hand on her knee and squeezing affectionately. You sit like that for a moment before Ellie frowns at you.

"I really thought he would change his mind." She whispers.

"Yeah, me too." You whisper back. She purses her lips and shakes her head like she's scolding herself for getting her hopes up. You squeeze her again, but she doesn't say anything. She just gets up, throws her backpack over her shoulders, and trudges down the stairs. You sigh and look up at the ceiling, racking your brain for the best way to turn her mood around before following her.

The walk to the stables is silent. You're each trying to settle into this new dynamic, but none of you like it. That seems to be the only thing clear about this whole situation. As you walk through the horse stalls, Tommy tells you something about the distance or the terrain or something. You lose track when you see Joel saddling up the horse you were coming to get.

"You came here to say goodbye or something?" Ellie snaps, but Joel doesn't even turn from what he's doing.

"No. I came here to steal one of these horses and go." His voice is strained, like he's been crying. Had he been crying? In the years you've known Joel Miller, you've never seen him cry.

"I woulda gave you one." Tommy chimes in, and Joel nods.

"I know," he says, finally looking at the three of you. His eyes linger on yours before he looks down at his boots again. "Anyway, that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess..." he trails off and starts walking to Ellie. "You deserve a choice. I still think you'd be better off with Tommy-"

"Let's go." Ellie cuts him off, shoving her bag into his chest with enough force to make him stumble. You fight a smile as you glance between them. This, you think. This is how it's supposed to be.

"Okay," Joel says. Ellie walks past him and to the horse, petting his nose and whispering sweet things. Tommy and Joel share a look of understanding before his eyes flick to yours. "D'you mind givin' us a minute?" He asks Tommy, and he shakes his head. He takes the horse Joel saddled up and Ellie outside before walking to the back of the barn to get another one ready. The air between you is thick as you stare at him, the dried tear marks on his cheeks catching the light, and you should be mad at him. You should curse at him and push him, but you don't.

"You made Ellie really happy." You say instead. He nods and takes a step into you.

"Only Ellie?" He rasps. You take a deep breath and press your tongue into your cheek, fighting the impulse to make a snarky comment. He can see the struggle and smirks devastatingly at you.

"I'm happy," you say. He takes another step closer, his chest hitting flush against yours, and you breathe in the mint toothpaste he used this morning. His lips ghost over yours, but you pull back and look at him intently before he can kiss you. "If you ever make me yell at you like that again, I will make your life a living hell, Miller."

"Promise?" He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice, and you raise your eyebrows at him. "I'm sorry for bein' a dick. I should've listened to you from the start. I'm sorry," he mumbles as he kisses you. "'M sorry." Kiss. "'M sorry." Kiss. "'M sorry." He trails down your neck, whispering apologies into your skin. You tilt your head to give him a little more room, relishing in the scratch of his beard against your pulse, when you hear Ellie's voice from outside. You slap his shoulder to get his attention, but he doesn't move.

"Cool it, cowboy. There are kids around." You say, and he chuckles.

"Kid," he corrects. "And she's not payin' attention." He says, lifting his head to kiss your lips again. It feels like it's been forever since you've had a moment like this with him, probably since before Tess died. Still, he tastes familiar, and the press of his lips against yours is a comfort. You indulge in it for a few more seconds before pulling away.

"We have to go." You whisper, your voice wrecked from the effect he has on you, and he groans.

"Okay, okay." He relents, prying himself from you, but you catch his wrist before he can get far.

"I'm serious about what I said. I don't wanna feel like I did last night ever again." You say, and he presses his lips into a line before intertwining your fingers.

"I'm sorry for the fight. For bein' a dick. Everything. I'll do anything I can to never do that to you or Ellie ever again, okay?" He says. Reluctantly, you nod and decide to forgive him. You don't have time to be mad at him, and there's nothing you can do to change the past. You can only keep moving forward.

"Okay," you agree. "But Ellie deserves an apology, too."

"Of course." He agrees easily. It's the least friction you've ever had while talking to him. You smile and kiss him one more time before you two walk out to where Ellie and Tommy are waiting with two saddled-up horses. The brothers bid each other a private goodbye, and you thank him for everything. He gives you directions as Joel pulls Ellie up on the horse to settle behind him, and you listen, too, in case Joel forgets something.

Then, as quietly as you arrived, you leave Jackson and its inhabitants for whatever the Fireflies have in store for you three.

#look for the light #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller and ellie williams #joel miller angst #joel miller hurt/comfort #the last of us fluff #the last of us hurt/comfort #the last of us series #the last of us x reader #the last of us fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #platonic!ellie williams x reader

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creedslove · 8 months

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OMG BESTIE YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT.

i had this dream where me, Joel and Ellie were in Jackson and him and I were together after years of surviving and then (I still don't know how) I switched to the no-outbreak time where Sarah is alive and Joel is in his 40's. We didn't knew each other and I accidently bumped into him while walking with my daughter Ellie (at that point I'm in tears) and we look at each other and I have this deja vu and he seems to have it too! We don't say anything, just smile at each other and then I wake up. (I hope it makes sense 😭)

I wish Joel was real. (especially with his silver hair and southern accent that makes my knees buckle)

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: omg bestie you got me screaming and crying and throwing up honestly! This dream is amazing and it sort of reminds me of X-Men Days of Future Past in which Wolverine needs to go back in time to save the mutants and prevent the extinction of mutants and humans! I like this idea so I turned into a headcanon adapting to the no mutation tlou reality hehehehe

• Joel thought the dreams he was having were beyond explanation at how weird they really were; every single night he would wake up in cold sweat, panting and wondering what the hell was going on with him

• his dream was always the same: he would dream about a world that had ended and for some reason he had survived, where monstrous creatures that seemed a mix of humans and some kind of fungus had wiped most of civilization and the world as he knew; in the dream Joel was a low life, a depressed, lonely and hard guy who had lost the will of living right after his daughter got killed and that was enough for Joel to snap wake and immediately tiptoe to her bedroom, just to watch her sleep and make sure she was alright and her bedroom was still pink and full of butterflies and not some ruin of what things used to be

• it puzzled Joel, because he had no idea where that was coming from; he wasn't one to watch zombie or horror stuff, reading books was definitely not his cup of tea and he seriously couldn't understand why kids like Sarah obsessed over watching TikToks, so he thought he didn't actually have the creativity for that

• maybe he'd eaten one of Tommy's suspicious brownies by accident?! It could be a possibility, but his brother was extra careful with these since Sarah was around

• still, it didn't matter the reason why Joel had those disturbing dreams, but the frequency they were happening, and not only that: he very often saw people he knew from his everyday life in the dream as well

• such as his former girlfriend Tess, his brother Tommy and his girl Maria, he recalls seeing those two kids who lived down the street from him... Henry and Sam, he recognized them from Sarah's school, the older brother making ends meet and always having to attend parent - teacher conferences and the little one being the gifted student his daughter told him about

• even that nut job from the other block, Kathleen showed up every once in a while, Bill and Frank, and several other friends and acquaintances Joel had met through his life and the city

• but from all the crazy shit his, what baffled him the most was that you and your daughter Ellie featured in his dream as well; he knew Ellie was a firecracker from all the school meetings he'd attended, which honestly amused him. He thought she was pretty strong and smart and it always made him chuckle when she put a boy back into his place

• but it was so confusing to him that he almost had a fatherly bond with her, at the same time he had a relationship with you. Joel had always found you attractive and he very often kept in the back of his mind his desire of asking you out, but he never went through it, and yet, in his apocalyptic dreams you were going strong, it was just odd

• Joel kept thinking of those dreams for a few days, he even considered seeing a shrink after Sarah told him he should do it, but being a stubborn Miller the way he was, he just shrugged it off and eventually, his sleep went back to normal and he got too caught up with work to pay attention to things like that

• it was only one weekend where he was taking a walk around the neighborhood with Sarah, he ended up running into you, smiling and waving gently, he felt his heart skip a beat, thinking of your apocalyptic romance and thinking of how crazy it would be to miss something he never really had

• when you saw your neighbor Joel waving and smiling from across the street, you immediately reciprocate, he was handsome and you would be lying if you said you didn't have the slightest crush on him, but he would think you were crazy if he ever found out you had the craziest dream about him, in which you both had to survive in an apocalyptic world while being a couple 🥴

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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blank-slate-jay · 2 years

Text

Gone Too Long

Summary: Joel embraces you after you had gone missing for some time.

Joel Miller x Male Reader

Word Count : 1.2k

Tags: Angst, Comfort, Soft!Joel

A/N: Here's a short one for you! Took me a couple hours to write, so hope it turns out enjoyable.

Still nothing, still the gates stayed shut just as they were three days ago.

You, and a few other residents in Jackson, had yet to return from your patrols. The objective for your group was quite simple, clear out any infected in your assigned area. The danger levels were not as high, since Jackson would routinely send out their finest members to keep infected from coming into the radius of their walls, mitigating any chances of anyone getting hurt. The odds were stacked in their favor, but it wasn’t certain.

Tommy and Maria were standing among an ever growing crowd close by the gates of their town. Both arguing with his older brother, Joel, and a few other of the residents who insisted they send a search party for their missing loved ones.

The people shouted, “How long until we do something”, “My daughter is out there!”

Concern was rising, tensions were high but Maria opped to calm the people down. Using her hand to assert some level of control, she tries settling the worried crowd while Joel and Tommy were arguing just behind her.

“I already told you, we don’t have the guys to be sending out there, right now,” Tommy explained.

Joel shook his head, “It’s been days Tommy, days since we’ve heard from them”.

“What can we do? We already advised our patrols to be on the lookout. Even the ones that were sent out this mornin’.”

Joel scuff, “They ain’ looking for them, they’re just doing their damn job.”

“And that's the best we can do” Tommy says.

Joel opened his mouth but closed it after, turning his head in frustration. He knew by this point that continuing a dispute with Tommy was just a waste of time. He felt every second that wasn’t dedicated to finding you was a waste of time. In fact everything felt that way to him, why bother getting people involved when he could just do it himself.

“I’ll go,” Joel concludes, his back turned to Tommy making his way to the stable.

Tommy quickly chases after him, “Joel. Hey!” He grabs his brother’s arm, who shooed it away. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You don't know where they are…how you're going to get to them…”

“I’ll find a way, I always do”, Joel states sternly.

“You’ll find a way to get yourself killed.”

Joel stops where he’s at and turns to Tommy, “Yeah? At least someone actually give a damn around here! If-” Joel halts his words gathering up his thoughts, “I can’t lose him. If..if something happened to him I…god,” his breath was unsteady.

There was a brief change in Joel's expression, one Tommy hadn’t seen in a long time; desperation. It was quick though, so fast that he would’ve missed it if he’d blinked, before Joel changed back to his almost demeaning expression.

Tommy knew how much you meant to Joel, how much he cared for you. The man’s heart seemed to be growing back, to take that away from him…again…Tommy definitely didn’t want to see that. Maria came to mind and how he’d react if she was in your predicament. Maybe he’d do the same too.

Tommy pursed his lips, grasping the weight of the situation from Joel’s perspective. He nods his head, allowing his brother to go through with his plan. However, Joel wasn’t looking Tommy in the eyes anymore. His attention was caught by something just over his brother’s shoulder. He moves forward, with Tommy following him with his eyes, Joel stops after a few steps.

Now in the same direction of Joel, Tommy could now see it too. The gate was beginning to open. The watchers were waving down to the people below that something was wrong. The two men wasted no time making their way over to the gate.

Maira quickly got the crowd to back into the sidewalks, “This way, this way people.” With everyone clear for those on the other side of the gate, it continued to open until stopping at its limit. Your group, the ones that had gone missing, finally made it back to town. The group trotted into town, looking as if they had all seen a ghost. Only three horses had returned instead of four, with one of the patrol members mounted on your horse completely battered. Things didn’t look too good.

You dismount your horse, careful not to knock your comrade off with you. “Come” you say, pulling the injured member down. A random lady had called out to her, claiming her as her ‘daughter’. She cries out along with the injured lady as they hug one another. A smile running across your face, happy that you saved a family member from having to deal with the loss of a loved one. Maria came up to you with concern in her face, “You alright?”

You titled your head momentarily, “Could be better.”

“I feel it might be too soon to ask what happened," she replies.

You appreciated her concern, as you didn’t really want to talk about it, at least not right now. You watched as the other members dismounted from their horses while coming up with a response, “It was awful, a couple of raiders got us and-” you didn’t bother to finish your statement since Maria didn’t push you to complete it. You sigh, looking about the subsiding crowd, “Is Tommy here? Joel?”

Maria, “Uh, they were just here not long ago…oh…right over there.”

Your eyes gaze in the direction she points. Your heart jumps, seeing him. Joel, standing still while his brother began toward you and Maria. Tommy’s frame was starting to block your view of Joel, so you paced over to him. You collide with Tommy, shaking his hand as he places his other hand on your shoulder. You exchange greetings without saying a word, he motions to Joel who still was stunned. Tommy’s gaze and small smile telling you to, ‘Go hug your damn man’. Letting go of his hand, you make your way to Joel in strides. He finally started moving, your name escaping his lips as he started jogging toward you.

Next thing you know, you two are embracing. Like magnets, you latch onto each other dearly. Your vision blurred, watery, swearing that Joel was the one squeezing the tears out of you. You wished that were true, only it wasn’t and you were just ecstasy to see him again.

A tear rolled down your face, as you huffed, “Joel” sounding like you questioned if he was even real.

Joel’s rough hand ran up your back, leading all the way to the back of your neck. “I’m here, baby…I’m right here”. His voice, so close to your ears, it was enough to take all your worries away.

For Joel, he trembled, more so than you were for different reasons then you. He could tell your time out there was nightmare fuel, hellish to an extent. The man wanted nothing but to tear down everything that brought harm to you out there. If it meant a few people, multiple gangs or the whole damn world, he'd do it. But now, you needed him, and Joel wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

He turns his head to place a kiss along your cheek, continuing to reassure you of your safety. With his free hand going in circles around your back, he softly states, “Let it out, you’re home now”.

You did just that, silently tearing up into the man's shoulders. Hearing his words made you relax further into his hold, your head resting against his cheek. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of Joel’s jacket consume you. His heat grounded you, ensuring that you were in fact, home.

#joel miller x male reader #joel x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller hbo #joel miller #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou #pedro pascal

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tightjeansjavi · 7 months

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In the Warmth of Your Love

part II of Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Chapter one | “can’t quit you, baby”

A/N: to kick off my 1 year celebration of writing fic…we’re going right back to my roots! 🤭 to my devoted Gwen & Joel fans, this one is for y’all! I wrote this back in October after taking a looong hiatus from the series. The original path was to pick up on chapter 17 and continue to follow the path of the show. I decided that trying to essentially rewrite the events that take place after Bill & Franks episode was just too much for me to handle. I knew I wanted to continue Joel & Gwen’s story, but I didn’t know what that would end up looking like!

In the Warmth of Your Love takes place after the events in the hospital.

~word count: 3.1k~

Summary: a glimpse into your new life in Jackson with Joel.

Pairing | joel miller x f!oc

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, established relationship, found family, age gap, (oc is in her early 30’s and Joel is in his 50’s) unprotected piv, pining, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic intimacy, they’re so in love it hurts, +18 minors dni!

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“Swear to me.”

“Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true, Joel.”

“I swear.”

6 months had passed since you and Joel murdered every single Firefly in the Salt Lake City hospital. 6 months since Joel swore to Ellie that everything he told her about the Fireflies was true. That they had stopped looking for a cure, and raiders attacked the hospital. That there were more people like Ellie that were immune.

It was all a lie. One that you and Joel carried on your shoulders everyday. As Ellie’s guardians, you and Joel made the decision that you both felt was the right one.

“Jesus fuck, Joel. What the hell did you do?” Tommy asked his brother the day after the three of you showed back up on Jackson’s doorstep.

“I did what I had to do. I protected her. I saved her. I killed every last person that stood in the way of me getting to Ellie. They were going to kill her, Tommy. They were going to kill her and I—we couldn’t let that happen. Ellie didn’t want to die. I know she didn’t because she fuckin’ told me before we were ambushed. I killed Marlene. I killed the doctor who was going to perform the surgery. I killed them all.” Joel admitted.

Tommy scrubbed a hand down his face with a heavy sigh as he sank back against the chair. “And Gwen? What was her role in all of this?”

“She killed them too. We did it together.”

“Does..Ellie know the truth?” Tommy already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from Joel’s mouth first.

“No, she doesn’t. And she never will know what happened in that hospital. She can live her life the way she deserves to. She can make friends and be happy for once in her fuckin’ life.”

“Joel, I can’t have two murders livin’ in town. Maria won’t stand for it, and you know that brother.”

“Tommy, please. I’m your brother, for fuck’s sake. Gwen and I only did what we felt was right. Wouldn’t you do the same if it was your kid? You don’t have to tell Maria the truth. Don’t we deserve a second chance at peace too?”

“It doesn’t matter what the fuck I would have done in that situation Joel! You—you fucking murdered an entire hospital of Fireflies! This town doesn’t condone violence, and if anyone were to ever find out—”

Joel was leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped together as he looked at his brother, right in his eyes with pure desperation in his deep brown irises. “I’ll be carryin’ that burden for the rest of my fuckin’ days. You’ve killed people too, Tommy. Just because you’ve been living here with a loving wife, and a baby on the way, doesn’t mean that the blood on your own goddamn hands gets erased. Listen to me, okay? Gwen is a good fucking person. She’s got a huge heart and she deserves a second chance too. She’s good with horses, and I can help you with any of the heavy lifting shit that gets done around here. Please, Tommy. Please let us stay.”

Tommy stared right back at his brother and deep down he knew he couldn’t turn him away, no matter how hard he tried.

“Okay. All three of you can stay, under one condition. You never, and I mean never speak about what happened at that hospital to anyone. You hear me Joel? Never.”

“I swear on my life that I will never speak about it again. You have my word Tommy.”

Maria was no idiot and Tommy knew this all too well about his wife. “They’ll stay in the house they were in the last time they came through here. Joel said that Gwen has worked with horses before and can help out around the stables, and Joel can help me with fixin’ things ‘round here. He’s really good with that stuff.”

“We have enough mouths to feed as it is Tommy. I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Maria, Joel is my brother. He’s been through hell, all three of them have. I’m not going to turn them away so can we please come up with a compromise here?”

“Fine. I just don’t want Joel or Gwen near any weapons. If they’re going to live here, then they’re going to abide by our rules. Ellie will go to school with the rest of the kids and I expect Gwen to also help out with food prep and the Tipsy Bison. Joel can help you with the handiwork projects, and in time he can help out on patrol.”

“Ellie will probably end up fighting tooth and nail to not go back to school, but I’m sure we can work that out.”

In the early mornings you were helping out in the stables. Feeding the horses, mucking stalls, and grooming. It was easy enough to fall back into a routine that you had known so well from your teen years. You knew horses better than anyone in Jackson did, and you were beyond grateful at being given a fresh start. Your afternoons were spent in the mess hall kitchen. Prepping vegetables and breaking down chickens for dinner. Food was abundant in a place like this, and you weren’t sure if you would ever grow used to the feeling of no longer having to starve.

Your evenings after dinner were spent at the Tipsy Bison, working behind the bartop with Tommy. If there was one thing the men in Jackson loved, it was a pretty woman serving them whiskey after a long day out on patrol. At the end of each day there was only one man you wanted to see in your bed, and that man was Joel; your Joel.

These days you hardly saw him or Ellie. Your schedules were different. With Ellie at school and working at the stables in the afternoon, and Joel helping Tommy in the mornings, and then patrolling through the evening, there was barely any time for you to spend together. He still held you at night through his exhaustion, but he too missed the way things used to be.

The days flew by, summer had come and gone. The seasons changed and the air grew colder, and the nights grew longer.

You had just finished wiping down the bartop after the last of the stragglers headed home for the night. You carefully placed every bottle of liquor back onto the shelf before scrubbing the glasses clean. The record player crackled in the background, Led Zeppelin's ‘I Can’t Quit You Baby’ a rock n’roll classic. You hummed the tune, swaying your hips subconsciously to the low beat.

The door to the Tipsy Bison swung open on the hinges as you let out a sigh, not looking up from the table you were wiping down. “We’re closed for the evening. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“I don’t wanna anythin’ to drink.” Joel rasped as he closed the door behind him.

“Joel? What are you doing here?..it’s late, shouldn’t you be at home?” You looked up at him through thick lashes.

“Couldn’t sleep. Decided to go for a walk, n’ended up here. I miss you..so much. Hardly get to see much of ya at all. Jus’ thought we could spend some time together, even if it’s gotta be in a place like this.”

“I miss you too, Joel. You know I do.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He paused as his gaze fell upon your exhausted face, and tired eyes. “S’that Zeppelin playin?’” He rested his elbow along the high top you had just wiped down.

“Yeah, one of the patrol guys found it for me in an abandoned house a few miles west. It’s got a few scratches but is otherwise in fair shape.”

“Mm.” He hummed under his breath. “S’you got admirers then? Can’t say I blame ‘em. Pretty thing like you servin’ them whiskey all night? How do ya keep ‘em at bay?” His brow raised in curiosity.

“With this.” You slipped your knife from the holster hidden under your shirt with ease. “Tommy keeps them on a tight leash anyway. They know not to try anything funny.”

“Breakin’ the rules already? Maria said no weapons, sweetheart.” He leaned forward along his elbow as his fingers reached out and brushed against the worn hilt of your knife. He could just barely make out your carved initials through the thick wood. “You tell ‘em that you're mine? That you’re Joel’s girl, and that if any of ‘em ever were to—”

“Joel, relax. No one has tried anything past harmless flirting. Everyone knows that you and I..we’re an item. What Maria doesn’t know won’t kill her. My knife is a safety net that I’m just not ready, nor willing to give up right now.”

“We’re more than an item, Gwen. We’re partners for life. I know your knife is your safety net. I know it is, baby. S’why I still sleep with a gun under my pillow. Knowin’ it’s there helps calm me, but the one person that keeps my nightmares at bay ain’t home. She’s not in bed with me cus’ she’s here servin’ whiskey all night to men that probably fantasize about what it’s like to be with a woman like you.” He breathed out and you could taste his warm breath along your unkissed lips.

“Of course we are Joel. I got you, you got me. That hasn’t changed, and it never will. We’re both in this adjustment period and it’s tough. I’d much rather be at home with you and Ellie, but Maria said I had to ‘pay’ my dues.” You gently placed your knife along the smooth wooden surface of the table. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you to drink, Mr. Miller?”

“If you’re on the menu for tonight, then that’s what I’ll be havin.’”

“I believe we might be all sold out of that for tonight. Let me go check in the back just to be sure.” You were already turning on your heel to walk away before you felt his warm and calloused palm wrap around your wrist, halting you from taking another step.

“Ain’t you got a little love left for me? When’s the last time I’ve tasted those lips, hm?” He gently coaxed you to step towards him, and once you were close enough, his hand released your wrist and found purchase around your hip through muscle memory. His fingers flexed as his thumb slipped through the belt loop on your jeans. “Y’remember that night after teachin’ Robert a lesson? When we fucked in that back alley without a care in the goddamn world if FEDRA would catch us or not? Remember when we would..have fun? Don’tcha miss that?”

“I’ve always got love left for you Joel. I can’t remember the last time we kissed without us thinking it would be the last time. I do remember that night, just as if it had happened yesterday.” Your hands found themselves resting along his shoulders, squeezing them gently through the material of his worn jacket. In the low lighting your eyes discerned the speckled gray in his beard, and the salt and pepper silver strands of hair. His chapped lips, his inviting eyes that always softened their hardness around you. “We had fun, Joel but between all of that there was so much—”

“No. Don’t say another word. Y’hear me? We don’t have to run. We don’t have to hide. We don’t have to fight. We’re safe here. You, me and Ellie. I won’t deny that you and I—we’ve suffered, but in that suffering we have loved goddammit. We have loved so fuckin’ hard. You're the breath in my lungs, n’you’re the soft breeze kissin’ on my skin. You’re the sun risin n’settin’ everyday. You’re the moonlight guidin’ me home. Your eyes twinkle brighter than any goddamn star in that sky. You’re my—” his words were stolen from his lips as you yanked on the collar of his jacket and pulled him down to your awaiting lips. You kissed him so deeply it felt like both the air from yours and his lungs was being knocked from your bodies. A cataclysmic wave of emotions washed through your veins as you pulled him as close as physically possible. Tongues tangled as you stumbled back against the nearest stable surface; the bartop counter.

“When did you become such a fuckin’ poet, Joel?” You asked breathlessly between kisses as your fingers tangled recklessly through his hair.

“Started readin’ more. Shakespeare mostly.” He mumbled against your lips as he stepped between your thighs, pressing your back firmly against the counter.

“You hate Shakespeare.” You retorted, gripping his hair tighter as your free hand started to desperately tug and push the fabric of his jacket down from his broad shoulders.

“You love Shakespeare.” He countered.

“Less talking, more kissing please. I gotta say it’s fucking hot that you are reading more. I find that so fucking sexy Joel.”

“Yeah? Think it’s sexy when a rugged old man like me reads Shakespeare?” He helped you remove his jacket completely as he threw it to the floor in a haste.

“You’re not that old, baby. Besides, I like your salt and pepper hair and little gray patches in your beard. You’re so fucking beautiful Joel.”

“I’m pretty fuckin’ old, baby. Old and a little gray, but I still got it n’me to fuck you stupid. Jus’ the way that my girl likes it. Them dogs out there don’t know how to handle a woman of your caliber. Now, hop up that pretty lil’ ass up on that counter f’me.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice Mr. Miller.” You detached your lips from his momentarily as you hoisted yourself up onto the edge of the countertop. You wasted no time to grasp the end of your t-shirt and yank it over your head.

“Someone is fuckin’ eager.” He chuckled as he pulled his sweater and Henley long sleeve over his head. He was feeling like the man he once was again; you were feeling like a woman reborn as he popped the button of your jeans and tugged the zipper down as you reached for his belt in a haste, listening to the familiar metal clanking sound.

“Only ever eager for you Joel. You gonna touch me or just ogle?” You teased with a light giggle as your arms draped around his neck. Your bodies were littered with scars, old and new. Two torn canvases splattered with remnants of a life once solely based upon survival.

Joel tugged your jeans down over your hips before his movements paused as his eyes flitted down to the long scar across your lower abdomen. His fingers brushed across the raised skin before he leaned down and pressed his lips to it. “I love you so fuckin’ much, Gwen.” His lips ghosted across your hip bone.

“I love you so fucking much too, Joel. I need you so bad. Please, baby. Don’t make me beg for it. It’s been too fucking long, and I think I’ll pass out if I don’t have your cock inside of me in the next five minutes.”

“Baby, you’re so generous...givin’ me five minutes to give it to ya?” He looked up at you, grinning like a devil as he slowly peeled your panties down your thighs and past your ankles. “What about your pussy? Think she’s missed me a lot too? Cus’ I’ve missed her so fuckin’ much.” He dragged his fingers southward across your pubic bone, dipping into the sweet sticky slick between your folds. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d say she missed me too. This all f’me?”

Your back instinctively arched towards his touch as your thighs spread open the slightest. Between the cool surface of the countertop, and Joel’s warm touch you were positively dripping for him. “Mhmm..she’s missed you too. So fucking much.” You mewled and slowly reached your hand between your bodies as you palmed him through his briefs. “Give. It. To. Me. Now.”

You nearly growled the words out.

“There she is. There’s my fuckin’ girl. Always know how to get your man goin’ huh? You ain’t even gotta try sweetheart. M’always fuckin’ ready for you.” His lips were on yours once more. Kissing you with the same amount of fervency as he always did. His mouth claimed yours as he freed himself from his briefs. You felt his tip notch between your folds as you took a synchronized broken gasp.

Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, nails scraping at his skin as he slowly sunk himself to the hilt. Joel always had this way of making you feel impossibly filled with him. It was as if your bodies were in fact made for one another, fitting like two puzzle pieces as his forehead pressed lightly against yours. “Fuckin’ Christ. Missed this feelin’ of your pussy huggin’ me like this baby. Always so fuckin’ tight.”

He jutted his hips forward with one harsh thrust that had you both shuddering from the intense pleasurable feeling of being connected once more.

“I’ll—I’ll never get tired of this feeling.” You moaned his name, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“What feelin?’” He rasped.

“Feeling so fucking filled by you. So complete. So warm.”

“S’like you and I were made for each other. All mine, all yours.” His free hand that wasn’t wrapped around your hip drifted down to where your bodies were connected. His thumb easily found your clit as he rubbed it expertly in tight circles.

“Fuck! Yes, keep—keep doing that baby. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, Joel.” You begged him.

“Ain’t gonna stop. I can’t quit you baby. Can’t quit ya. Never can. Never will. I got you, you got me.” He used what was left of his energy to fuck into you the way that you deserved so that feeling that only he could give you would reside deep within your veins even after your body’s were spent, and he had grown soft in your comforting warmth around him.

He kissed your skin delicately as your sweat slicked bodies stayed pressed together. He kissed your forehead, your cheekbones, your eyelids. Your chin, the tip of your nose and your lips. He cleaned the evidence of yours and his releases from between your thighs before you helped one another redress.

He walked you home, arm draped over your shoulders as your slap-happy giggles and enthusiastic chatter filled the chilled night air with domestic warmth.

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avastrasposts · 1 year

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The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 29

Our boys, along with Joel and Tommy, finally made it to Boston and start getting settled there. But working with Joel isn't as straightforward as it might seem, he is not the same man he once was. And he shares a trauma with Frankie, who isn't as stable as he might seem.

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Chapter 30 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.7k

Seriously, fuck Boston winters. You were not made for this kind of weather, no one was made for this kind of weather. You’re grumling under your breath as you stomp your feet in a futile effort to bring life back to your toes. Five Massachusett winters and you’re still no closer to getting used to them, despite all the layers you wrap yourself in during the colder months. The north easterly winds that rushed in off the Atlantic seemed to seep through both clothes and flesh and chill your bones. The bar you were waiting by hadn't opened yet, the owner, a prickly middle aged woman, was late for some reason, leaving you and a few other patrons shivering outside the door. Your plan had been to go straight from work and meet Frankie at the bar, trade a couple of ration cards for hot stew and maybe a whiskey. Frankie was due back from a trade with Joel and Tommy and you needed to talk to them about a special trade. They hadn’t been outside the wall, just another part of the QZ, to trade with someone who’d managed to get hold of actual pre-outbreak cigarettes, a very valuable commodity these days.

Five years have passed since you all came to Boston. The six guys had built up a solid smuggling network, and you’d stepped aside. You still hated Frankie leaving to go outside the wall, it didn’t happen often these days, but even inside the walls, trading was risky business. But you kept quiet about it, and Frankie never brought it up. You just told him to be careful when he left, told him to come back to you and he always assured you he would. He didn’t always come back in one piece though, several times they’d come back with cuts and bruises and broken knuckles. Both Pope and Benny had even been shot, not fatally, but enough to chill your blood when you saw them stumble in. A stark reminder that even inside the walls, people had guns and were willing to kill for a trade.

But the four former Delta Force guys, with the addition of Joel and Tommy, instilled fear in the QZ. People had learnt the hard way to not double cross or cheat them, the retribution swift and hard when someone tried to go against them. Pope had taken unofficial leadership, but it was Joel, and Tommy, who did most of the heavy lifting. Pope’s charm had always worked to convince people that he could be trusted to trade with, so he took on the role of negotiator and dealmaker. Joel, on the other hand, seemed to have lost all his charm and charisma in the years after the outbreak, and was always the first to volunteer for runs outside the walls. You often wondered if he had a death wish with the way he so willingly did the riskiest missions and how dark his mind has gotten since the death of Sarah. It had become clear to you all that Joel wasn’t the same man he was before the outbreak. Will, who’d obviously known Joel a lot better than you had, sometimes talked to you about Joel before the outbreak. He was worried about the older man’s mood, and how he sometimes used alcohol and pills to get through the night. The death of Sarah had broken the man and left him to survive, and nothing more. But neither Will, nor Benny, knew how to get through to him. And Tommy had given up, he followed Joel’s lead and did what his older brother told him. It was clear that they’d had five very rough years since the outbreak when you met them again.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought about the relationship that had sprung up between Frankie and Joel. Tommy went where Joel went and Joel often asked Frankie to come too, along with one of the other Miller brothers. You knew Frankie was a follower, not a natural leader, and when he went on missions with only Tommy and Joel, Joel took charge. On their latest run outside the wall, they’d been gone a lot longer than usual. It’d been a trade with a community two days hike away and they’d been delayed, returning only after a week. You’d been frantic with worry, pacing Pope’s living room while he did his best to calm you. You’d had your bag packed, planning on going after them the very next day, when Frankie finally came back. He’d been exhausted, dirty and partially covered in blood, but unharmed and confident. The blood wasn’t his, it belonged to raiders that had attempted to take them on and suffered the consequences. When you saw Joel a couple of days later at the bar, he’d clapped Frankie over the back and praised him for the efficiency with which he dealt with the raiders.

“You dropped that first guy before I even had time to blink!” Joel had said, even a small satisfied grin pushing through on the usually scowling man’s face. “And it was a genius move to make them lead us to their stash, gave us a lot of extra supplies.”

When you’d asked Frankie later that evening how they’d made the raiders give up the information, he’d been unwilling to talk about it, only mumbling that he’d used an old military tactic. But the amount of blood on his clothes made you uneasy, and your unease grew when Joel praised Frankie’s ability to ‘handle things’ the next time they’d come back from a trade in another part of the QZ. Frankie’s knuckles had been bruised for a week afterwards.

And worst of all, Frankie’s nightmares were getting worse again and you started to see the signs of his PTSD flaring up. It had never been really gone, he always had darker days or periods of nightmares, but since Arlington, and Herb’s work, it’d been under control. Frankie had tools to deal with it and knew when to talk to you about it. But now his nightmares were reoccurring again. He’d come back from a run with Joel and Tommy and be in a confident, elated mood, but then nightmares would inevitably wake you both up in the following nights. When you asked him about it, what triggered them, he would brush it off, say it was only flashbacks to the earliest days of the outbreak, that he was fine. And at first the nightmares had receded after a few days, but then it took longer and longer. The last time he came back, the nightmares had plagued him every night for over a month and his mood had become very dark. No matter how much you tried to coax him to talk to you, or to one of the guys, to remind him of the tools he had, he remained sullen and withdrawn. He hadn’t been back to normal for over six months now and you were worried. You were about to ask him to stop working with Joel, but you needed them to do one last run for you, a special favor for a good man.

When you decided to step away from the smuggling, after Joel demanded that you and Frankie didn’t work together because of Frankie’s protectiveness of you, you’d looked around for another job that didn’t entail sewages or latrines. By luck you’d met an elderly man, an old college professor from MIT. You’d seen him struggling with the broken zipper of his winter coat one day when you were both assigned to cleaning out a previously condemned building. You’d become pretty adept at fixing clothes, button holes, broken zippers and had helped him by reattaching the zipper so that he could close the coat again. As a thank you, he offered you time on the amateur radio he’d built, using parts from the MIT campus. You had no one special to contact, you didn’t know where your parents or brothers were, even if they were alive, so you asked if Pope could use the radio time to set up trades. The old man, Sean, had agreed to it, and over the years you spent more and more time with him. He’d taught you how to work the radio, even how to repair it and build smaller radio units, and now, a few years later, you worked the radio with him every day.

Sean was a good man, old enough when the outbreak happened to not let the brutality of the new world affect who he was. He saw kindness in almost everyone he met and would dole out favors to anyone, irrespective of them being able to repay him or not. He was probably taken advantage of more times than he cared to admit, and you often stepped in to stop people from abusing his kindness. Your connection to Frankie and the rest of the smugglers made sure no one was willing to get on your bad side and now that expanded to Sean and his radio business too. And the more you saw of Sean’s willingness to selflessly help people, the more protective of him you became.

Now, as you stood stomping your feet outside the still closed bar, you thought back to the conversation you’d had with him yesterday. Everyone in Sean’s family had lived in Boston before the outbreak but, like for most of you, almost everyone in his family had been lost in those first chaotic days and weeks. Sean had been having dinner with his son that fateful Friday night and together they had managed to survive, but everyone else had been lost. Sean never found out what happened to his wife and second son, lost somewhere in the city when chaos erupted. Sean and his son had been in the Boston QZ since the beginning, and after some time, his son had met a woman and fallen in love. A couple of years later they had a son, Sean’s first grandchild. But the birth had been complicated and without access to most of modern medicine, the mother had passed away. A few years later, Sean’s son had taken a wrong turn while on patrol with FEDRA and been infected, leaving Sean as the young boy's only caretaker. The boy, Liam, named after his lost uncle, was Sean’s heart and probably the most spoiled boy in the entire QZ, Sean couldn’t deny him a thing.

Sean had come in yesterday afternoon, to take over the next shift on the radio, and he’d been uncharacteristically late.

“Liam’s really ill,” he said, stopping in the doorway of the small radio room. He looked ashen and disheveled. Liam had come down with the flu a week ago but instead of getting better after a while, his fever had spiked. Sean had asked you to cover for him yesterday so that he could go home and care for the boy. He’d traded a large stack of ration cards for pills that were hopefully the expired Advil the man trading claimed they were.

“The pills didn’t do anything and now Dr. Mason says he’s got bacterial pneumonia.” Sean’s eyes had been red rimmed and watery, “He needs antibiotics or he might…” the old man’s voice broke as he repressed a sob but he waved a dismissive hand at you when you stood up.

“I hate to ask, I know how much you hate the danger Frankie puts himself in when he goes outside the wall,” Sean had said, stuffing his hands deep in the pockets of his knitted cardigan, ever the college professor. “But is there any way they could get proper antibiotics for Liam? Could you ask?”

You had no choice, this was why you still accepted the danger the smuggling entailed. FEDRA simply didn’t supply enough of what people needed and the chances of getting antibiotics from them were minute. Any medicine FEDRA owned was hoarded and reserved for their officers and higher ups in the makeshift government that governed the country. Smuggling was the only way ordinary people could get hold of supplies that could save a sick child or relative. As much as you hated Frankie putting himself on the line, what he and the other guys did made a difference in the QZ.

...

Outside the bar, the line is getting long. But Liz, the bar owner, finally shows up, grumbling about a FEDRA check point, and opens up. It’s an old building and it thankfully has a large open fireplace in the center of the long back wall. While Liz gets the kitchen going, you help out and start the fire. The warmth it spreads thaws out your toes as you grab the seats closest to it and start peeling off your layers.

It’s not long before Frankie turns up together with Joel and Tommy. He comes straight over to you while Joel and Tommy head for the bar.

“Hey, mi hermosa,” Frankie smiles as he sinks down next to you on the couch. His lips are cold when he kisses you, bringing a cloud of cold air with him. “I’m freezing, I need thicker socks I think.”

“Hi Frankie,” you say, cupping his red cheeks with your hands, warming him up. Despite his darker moods, he’s managed to hold on to the softer parts of himself when he’s with you and now that he’s back after a long day in the cold, he wants to do nothing else but pull you onto his lap so that he can wrap himself in your bubble. But you’re still in public, in the bar, so he limits himself to putting his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, soaking up the warmth of the fire.

“How did the trade go?” you ask, Frankie’s cold fingers caressing the back of your neck, slowly warming up against your skin.

“It went well, he didn’t have as many cigarettes as he claimed over the radio, but we traded for what he had, made him give us a discount since we had to go all the way over there and then he didn’t have the amount he promised,” Frankie shrugs, “we didn’t even have to threaten him, I think our reputation preceded us.”

“Yeah, you guys have a pretty violent reputation by now,” you mumble, rubbing your thumb over the many scars on Frankie’s hands, his knuckles crisscrossed by thin white and pink lines. Frankie opens his mouth as if to say something but Joel and Tommy are coming over, drinks in hand, and he stands up instead.

“I’ll get us some food, cariño. Do you want whiskey too?”

“Thanks Frankie, food sounds good, but get me a tea if Liz has it,” you smile at him as stops in his tracks and bends down to kiss you instead, his lips warm now.

“Coming right up, amor.”

Joel and Tommy occupy the two armchairs opposite the couch and Tommy lets out a deep sigh as he stretches out his legs and lean backs.

“Fuck me it was cold out there today, this god damn winter is never ending,” he grumbles, taking a deep sip of the whiskey in his hand.

“How’s the radio, any good information?” Joel asks you. Despite not getting off to the best start when you first met again, and Joel’s less than sunny disposition these days, he’s pretty decent. You supply the guys with a lot of useful information and Joel seems to respect that. And as long as Frankie’s protective streak doesn’t compromise their safety while trading and smuggling, Joel seems to appreciate how important you are to Frankie. Although, that might have more to do with how it contributes to the success of the missions. Joel had once said he appreciated how Frankie would always make sure he could get back to you and that included making watertight plans and covering every angle when they went out. ‘He fights like hell to get back to you, darlin’, and he ain’t letting nothing get in the way of that’, Joel had told you while clapping Frankie on the back after a particularly gruesome expedition outside the walls.

Now the older Texan looks over at you from the brim of his whiskey glass and raises his eyebrows in question.

“I’ve got some good leads,” you reply, “but I’ve got a special request I need to ask you about when Frankie gets back. It might require a bit more than usual.”

“As long as it pays well, I’m alright with that,” Joel says and looks over at Tommy who nods along.

“Is it a dangerous run?” he asks, leaning forward on his knees.

“I don’t know, depends on where you can get hold of what I need,” you reply, looking up at Frankie who’s returning with two bowls, two mugs of tea and cornbread on a tray.

“What do you need?” he asks, sitting back down and you gratefully grab your bowl.

“Antibiotics,” you reply, “And I know it’s hard to come by the real stuff, but it’s for Sean’s grandson. Liam’s got bacterial pneumonia and Sean says he’s really ill. He needs it fast too.”

Joel looks over at Frankie and nods, “There’s that guy who said he’d meet us in Concord, he was trading all sorts of medicine.”

“Pope and Will said no to that one though,” Frankie says, digging into the stew.

“Yeah, but this is different, if Sean’s kid needs medicine, and this guy can supply it, we need to trade with him,” Joel interjects, looking at you as if to make you convince Frankie.

“Why doesn’t Will and Pope want to trade with him?” you ask Frankie and he shrugs while he swallows.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there for that decision.”

“I’ll talk to Pope,” Joel volunteers, “and plan the run, it’s a six hour hike to Concord. What do you think Sean is willing to trade in return?”

“Anything,” you say, “I mean, it’s Liam, he’ll give up his own life to save his grandson. But I don’t wanna ask him for anything extra just because he’s desperate, that’s now how we do it.”

“No, that’s fine,” Joel replies, downing the last of the whiskey and putting the glass on the table, “The guy in Concord had a lot to trade, we’ll be able to bring in extra supplies and make a lot in the QZ as it is.” He gets to his feet and shrugs his jacket back on, “I’ll go see Pope straight away, get this planned seeing as we wanna get the meds to Sean quickly.”

“Thanks, Joel, I appreciate it,” you reply and Joel puts his hand on your shoulder as he steps past the couch.

“Of course, darlin’, Sean’s been a good friend over the years, we need to help him out. I’ll see you guys later but be prepared to head out tomorrow morning.” The last thing he directs at Tommy and Frankie before he disappears out of the door.

“Well, if we’re heading out tomorrow morning, I’d better go see Louise,” Tommy sighs and pushes himself up, “I might be in the dog house.” He gives the two of you a wave and leaves. Louise was his latest ‘on again - off again’ girlfriend. Tommy seemed to attract women easily, but keeping them was more problematic. Louise and him have been on again now for a couple of weeks after a very public break up three months ago.

“Let me know if we’re heading out,” Frankie calls after him and Tommy raises his hand in acknowledgment.

“Joel was very eager to help out Sean,” you say, “I haven’t seen him be so quick to go on a run unless it was something really extra.” Joel was a ruthless smuggler, you paid what the item was worth to Joel, and nothing less. You’d never seen him do a favor for anyone except maybe Tommy.

“I think he’s keen to have a reason to go to Concord. Pope said the guy was willing to trade a lot of good stuff.” Frankie put the bowl back on the table and grabbed his tea mug, leaning back he pulled you into him so that his chin rested on your shoulder. “Maybe Pope didn’t think the journey up there was worth it, but it should be now.”

“Not like Pope to say no to a good trade though, the route must be really difficult,” you say, sipping your own tea. You were warm all the way through now, your toes toasty and your muscles felt loose. Leaning into Frankie, he bumps his nose along your cheek, dragging it up to your temple before he presses his lips against your hair.

“We’ll be gone at least one night,” he mumbles, “are you gonna be ok on your own? You could always go stay with Diana or Eve.”

Diana was Will’s girlfriend, Eve was Benny’s. Benny had met Eve pretty soon after getting to Boston, there was some story about Benny stepping in to help her carry a kitchen chair up two flights of stairs. She’d yelled at him for presuming she couldn’t handle herself and somehow, Benny fell in love with the tiny redheaded woman with a fierce temper. The big blonde man had followed her around like a puppy for a week before you’d stepped in and talked him up to her, telling her what a great friend he was and how you’d trust him with your life. Once he got a chance, she fell for him hard and the two of them moved in together after just a couple of months. He still followed her around like a puppy and it put a grin on your face every time you saw them together..

Will had met Diana while both of them were on probably the roughest duty in the whole QZ, the incinerator. Once you were all safe in Boston, Will’s guilt over Hannah had caught up with him and he’d tumbled head first into depression. Not even Benny could get through to him and Will sought out the most gruesome tasks, working long shifts and falling into bed each night. He worked with the other guys on the smuggling runs, but became even more quiet than usual, going along with what Pope and Joel agreed on. He wasn’t self destructive like Joel, he just didn’t care about anything it seemed. But then he met Diana, both of them regularly signing up for the incinerator.

Diana had lost her husband and two young daughters when Providence fell, she was one of very few survivors that made it to Boston. Together, Will and Diana worked alongside each other for the better part of a year before they started talking. Once the dam broke, they found comfort and solace in the other person's strength and together they managed to see something other than the darkness that had surrounded them. It took them a long time to move from friendship to lovers but once they did, the old Will gradually came back and he started resembling the man you knew from before the outbreak. Will had been sharing an apartment with Pope ever since coming to Boston, but six months ago he’d moved in with Diana. And when Benny, Will and Frankie were away on smuggling runs, you, Diana and Eve often stayed together. Facing the long nights that they were gone was easier when you had the two other women around.

“I’ll invite them over,” you say, “if you’re only gone one night I can manage.”

Frankie pulls you in closer, his lips finding your cheek, “I’ll make sure we come back after one night, you know I can’t stay away from you for even that long.” The tone of his voice, and the way the tip of his tongue comes out to taste the skin he’d just kissed, made a different kind of heat flare up inside you.

“I need to shower, hermosa,” he mumbles, his teeth finding your earlobe, “why don’t you join me?” The way his warm breath tickles your ear makes you shiver with pleasure and Frankie chuckles, pushing you away from him so that you both can stand up.

“C’mon, baby, I’m taking you home.”

...

At some point during the evening, Pope slid a note under the front door for you to find when you come back out of the bedroom to get a glass of water. The note gave a coded time and place for Frankie to meet the others. Will was going with them it seemed and Pope must’ve stopped by after Frankie had pulled you into the bedroom. You hadn’t heard a thing, but then, Frankie had been busy making you whimper with the way his tongue teased between your legs. Now you were in bed, wrapped up in the comforter, while Frankie repacked his bag for the early morning start the next day.

“I’ll see if I can trade for some thicker socks for you while you’re away,” you say, reminded by his complaint when you watch him pull out an extra pair of woolen socks from the wardrobe. “Cathy, down by the mess hall, she’s always keen to trade for cigarettes.”

“I’m surprised she has any clothes left, she trades everything to get smokes,” Frankie says, checking his gun and ammo.

“I think she has some sort of connection with FEDRA, she trades children’s clothes too.” You roll over on your belly and stretch, a big yawn escaping you. “I saw weird graffiti today, by the way,” you say, “A red fly. Ed was cleaning it off the wall and said it belonged to some group who call themselves ‘The Fireflies’. Have you heard of them?” you ask.

“No, what kind of group are they?” Frankie’s done packing and you lift the comforter to let him back into the bed.

“Ed said they’d been spraying their logo all over the QZ just these past two days, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it’s some sort of protest? FEDRA isn’t too bad here, not compared to Arlington, but people are unhappy with the rations and the curfews.”

“I hope they don’t try to rock the boat, we don’t want a repeat of Arlington,” he shuffles around, puffing the pillow up under his head before turning to you. “C’mere, you’re too far away,” he smiles, hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest so that you’re tucked in under his arm. “Need you to heat me up enough to stay warm when I have to sleep in some cold house tomorrow night.”

“Don’t say that, Frankie,” you mumble into his chest, “I hate the thought of you sleeping in the cold out there.”

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it, and thinking of you really keeps me warm,” he mumbles, you can feel his lips against your temple as he lets his fingers rake through your hair. “Sleep now, amor. Te amo.”

“Love you too, Frankie, sleep well.”

...

You make breakfast for Frankie and Pope the next morning, feeding them fresh arepas filled with the last of some leftover chicken and a couple of fried eggs. As usual when you send them off outside the wall you’re quiet and jumpy. You feel like you don’t want to stop touching Frankie, keeping your hand on his leg while you both eat in silence. He knows where your head’s at on mornings like this and you can feel his eyes on you while you both get ready. When it’s time for them to leave to meet the others, Pope leaves first and lets you say goodbye to Frankie. He pulls you in and you wrap your arms around his waist underneath his winter coat, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms come around you and you feel his breath on your cheek when he leans his head on your shoulder.

“Come back safe, Frankie, or I’m coming after you.”

“I know, cariño, but I’ll come back, I promise,” he whispers, his arms squeezing tight around you as your feet almost leave the floor. He gently puts you back down and cups your cheeks, pressing warm lips against yours. You let his tongue slip in, just for a few seconds, to taste him and feel how he tries to get you even closer. When he pulls back he brushes the tip of his nose along yours. “Stay safe while I’m gone, hermosa, I’ll be back soon.”

“Stay safe, Frankie.”

And then he’s gone. You close the door, always a feeling of loss when you know he’s leaving the QZ and the apartment feels empty. The only way to keep sane when he’s gone, is to stay busy.

Your day is filled with people, a long line waiting to send messages through the radio. Sean is at home with Liam so you work the whole day, right up until when your unofficial office closes. You haven’t told Sean about the attempt at getting medicine for Liam, just in case things don’t work out. You count the ration cards you’ve collected, along with some other bits and pieces you deemed valuable enough to accept, cigarettes, dried beef and, as if by providence, a pair of extra thick wool socks in Frankie’s size. You pack those into your bag along with the beef, and lock up the rest of the items and ration cards in the hidden safe.

You make your way over to Benny and Eve’s place and find Diana already there. She somehow looks like Will’s opposite but also exactly the same, as dark skinned as he is fair but with the same thoughtful, quiet demeanor and measured movements. She’s almost as tall as him and almost as muscular, when you saw them together it made perfect sense. But when you first met her she seemed so different from Hannah that you wondered if it was only convenience that brought the two of them close. But now that you knew her better, you saw that she had the same protective qualities that Hannah had. Even if she couldn’t collect strays the way Hannah did, she always had an eye out for people who needed extra help, especially children. And although Will and Diana were never as affectionate in public as Benny and Eve, or Frankie and you, it was clear that they loved each other and that it was a lot more than just something convenient. The sheer change in Will was evidence enough, he seemed happier than you’d ever seen him since the outbreak.

Eve pulls you in for a warm hug when you come through the door. She’s Benny’s polar opposite, a tiny girl with vivid red hair and a strong Irish accent. She’d been an exchange student in Boston when the outbreak happened and simply got stuck. She’d survived through sheer luck, locking herself in her dorm with two other students when it all broke out. She’d endured the following ten years by relying on herself alone and it had given her a hard exterior shell, coupled with a fiery temper you’d previously thought only was a myth but you were now starting to believe there was some truth behind it. But Benny had been taken in by her instantly, and even though it had taken her a bit longer to warm up to Benny’s golden retriever energy, there was no mistaking how devoted she was to him now.

The two women sometimes made you wonder who you would’ve turned into if Frankie hadn’t been by your side, if you’d have to fend for yourself all these years. You were pretty sure you would’ve died in the outbreak, or been infected, which was pretty much the same thing. You didn’t even know where you would’ve gone if you hadn’t known Frankie and by extension, not known Denny and his cabin. If you’d survived you thought you’d probably just stay in the Arlington QZ and then die when it fell.

You tried not to think about life before the outbreak too much, and people seldom mentioned it these days. It was too painful for most of you. You always wished you’d had more time with Frankie before the outbreak, that one year of normality you’d had didn’t seem enough. But like you’d told him before, you’d rather be with him and live in this post-apocalyptic world, than not be with him at all. Life without Frankie was impossible to imagine but when he was away, like now, those thoughts were a bit too close to the surface. And you knew Diana and Eve felt the same way when Benny and Will were gone, so you sought out each other’s company for comfort and distraction.

Today it was Will and Frankie that were away, Benny and Pope remained behind. There was a rule among the four Delta Force guys, to never leave all four at once. At least one of them, usually two, stayed behind. It wasn’t as patriarchal as ‘male protection’, it was about safety in numbers. Should something happen while the others were away, either to those still in the QZ or those on the outside, both groups had safety in numbers. You also knew, although that was more unspoken, that it meant a large enough group remained for a rescue party, should the group outside the QZ not return. It had never come to that yet, but it had been close a couple of times.

Once you got your boots off and got a hug from Benny and Diana, you sunk down on the couch, inhaling the scent from the kitchen.

What are you cooking, Eve? That smells amazing!” you exclaim, inhaling again to get a better whiff of the meaty aroma.

“You’ll never believe this, it’s pork!” the redhead squeals, “Benny got me a new winter coat, and I traded the old one for three whole pounds of pork!”

A few years ago FEDRA had sent an expedition out to gather as much livestock as possible. Most of the animals had starved to death, there just wasn’t enough feed. But chickens and pigs could live fairly well off scraps and although the pig population was small, sometimes pork made its way onto the market.

Now you pushed yourself off your feet and went to the kitchen to peer into Eve’s big stew pot. Big chunks of pork simmered slowly in a thick stock and as you stir it your mouth waters.

“I can't wait to try this, it smells amazing.”

“Soon! Needs another half an hour, now shoo!,” Eve replies with a smile and waves you away from the stove and back to the couch as Pope knocks and walks through the front door.

“Fuck! That smells so fucking good, Eve!” he calls the second he steps through the door and Eve laughs, everyone was getting excited by the pork.

“Anything good on the radio today, hermana?” Pope asks you as he sinks down next to you on the couch and gives you a hug from the side.

“Nothing major, some updates. But I talked to that Frank guy again. His partner is not the trusting kind but maybe with time we can work something out.”

“Do you know where they’re based?” Benny asks, he’s putting down cutlery and bowls on the coffee table in front of you.

“No, he hasn’t said yet, I think he’s still wary. But he knows I’m in Boston, I told him as a way to show trust. And I didn’t mention that any trade would be with at least four big ex Delta Force men…” you shoot a crooked grin at Benny who most definitely could look very intimidating when he wanted too.

“Yeah, that’s probably a detail left to the end,” Benny chuckles and sits down on the other side.

“Do you know what they were going out for today?” Diana asks, “I came home so late last night and Will didn’t have time to tell me this morning,” she’s looking over at Pope who nods.

“Yeah, antibiotics for Sean’s grandkid Liam, he’s very sick.”

“They’re doing it as a favor to me really,” you say, “but Joel seemed pretty keen, he said the guy had a lot more to trade than just antibiotics.”

“That’s good, if it’s more medicine it might be a chance to bring some much needed supplies to the clinic.” Diana works at a small, volunteer run, medical clinic. It was the only place to get health care that didn’t involve FEDRA’s unjust priority system of hoarding anything useful for their officers. The clinic gave supplies to those who needed it most, FEDRA or not.

“We’ve been out of antibiotics for over a year and we’re running low on almost all our stock,” she says. “I’ll ask Will to set up a trade with the clinic, we could use so much.”

Eve calls you all over to serve yourself from the pot and soon you’re all silent around the coffee table, humming over the stew. You all eat your fill but there’s plenty left and Eve ladles some into containers and gives one to you and one to Diana. .

“Give them to your men when they’re back, they’ll need warming up after a night out in this weather.”

During the afternoon it had started to snow and now it’s coming down thick, the stubborn Massachusetts winter wasn’t ready to give up yet even though it was already March. When you leave Eve and Benny’s apartment with Pope and Diana the heavy snowflakes have coated the dirty streets, giving the neighborhood a Christmas-like feel. You shiver despite your warm coat, looking up at the sky and hoping that Frankie and Will are inside a good shelter at least, maybe even somewhere where they can light a fire.

Pope and you walk Diana home and then hurry through the streets and make it back just before curfew begins. Pope has moved up to your floor, but in a smaller apartment now, and as you get to his door he holds it open for you.

“Do you wanna come in? Frankie said you might need some company.”

“Thanks Santi, that sounds nice, I’m not ready to face the empty apartment yet,” you say and accept his invitation gratefully.

“I’ll get us some whiskey, make yourself comfortable,” he says and kicks his boots off and you do the same. You sink down into the corner of his couch as he brings out a bottle and two glasses.

“Before the outbreak, I never drank whiskey,” you say as he hands you a glass, “now I feel like it’s all I drink, to calm down, to celebrate, to warm up. And I don’t even like it that much.”

“Good think you know some pretty resourceful smugglers then,” Santi chuckles and occupies the other corner. He sips his drink and his expression changes, the light smile that had tugged at the corner of his mouth slips away and he looks concerned.

“I wanted to talk to you about Frankie,” he says, his eyes lifting from the glass to meet yours. “His PTSD is flaring up, isn’t it?”

You nod and sigh, “What did you notice?”

“He’s been more tired than usual lately, almost fell asleep while we were keeping watch for a trade and he said it was just a bad night but I know him better than that.” Santi says, “And it’s his mood, Frankie’s not a chatty guy at the best of times but now he’s really quiet, if he’s not snapping at people, even telling Benny to back the fuck off and flaring up over nothing.”

You tilt your head back and sigh again, deeper this time. You’d seen the changes in him for months but you didn’t realize it had gotten that bad, he was good at hiding it around you since you didn’t go out on runs with them.

“I’d like him to stop smuggling,” you say, looking back at Santi, “at least the runs outside the QZ or any of the more dangerous trades on the inside, the nightmares get worse when he’s been outside or had to do something violent.”

“I can try to get him away from outside runs, the problem is Joel. He seems to favor working with Frankie and wants him on every run, he seems to trust him the most.”

“Joel doesn’t get to decide who goes or who doesn’t,” you scowl, brow wrinkled, “Frankie’s more important than the smuggling.”

Santi nods, rubbing his hand over the thick beard he’s grown, “I agree, and there’s another reason why I think Frankie shouldn’t go on runs with Joel,” he says, staring at the amber liquid rather than you and falls silent for a few seconds while you look at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Joel’s…methods, or whatever you wanna call them, might bring out a side in Frankie I haven’t seen since our army days,” Santi says, sitting up a bit straighter and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, “We did some fucked up stuff, you know that, even though we never shared the details with you.”

“Frankie’s nightmares told me enough about that, yeah,” you say and Santi nods.

“I haven’t been out on a run that’s gone bad in a long time but, here and there, I hear things about what Joel gets up to, when he’s out with Tommy and Frankie, that’s got me worried. Benny mentioned something and Joel let something slip once.”

“What do you mean, Santi?” you say, anxiously leaning forwards too and he sighs.

“Joel’s very good at violence, and I think he’s bringing that side out in Frankie too. But I’m not sure,” he adds quickly as he sees your horrified expression, “but I think it would do Frankie good to not work so closely with Joel.”

You can feel your chest constricting, unable to sit still you nervously twist your hands together around the glass “Santi, please, whatever you do, make sure Frankie stops going on runs with him,” you plead, your voice wobbly as tears spring up. Santi moves across the couch and holds out his arms for you.

“Come here, hermana, I promise, I’ll get him to stay behind,” he pulls you in for a hug and you gratefully accept his arms around you, sniffling into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says, cupping the back of your head with his hand, “I shouldn’t have brought this up now, especially not with Frankie away,” he says, rubbing your back.

“No, it’s good you told me, I need to know, or I can’t do anything about it,” you push back a bit from Santi and rub your wet eyes. Santi lets go of you and grabs a handkerchief from the side table behind the couch.

“Here, it’s clean,” he offers it to you.

“Thanks, fuck,” you sigh, “I’m such a cryer, you’d think I’d be tougher after ten years in the fucking apocalypse.”

“You love Frankie,” Santi says and gives you a small smile, “and when he has issues I think you’re allowed to cry as much as you want. And I’ll try to talk to him, get him to stop doing runs for a while, I’ll tell him you’re worried about him, he’ll do anything for you.”

“Thanks Santi,” you sigh and gratefully accept the glass he holds up, taking a small sip.

“Do you wanna stay here tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch, you can take the bed.”

You shake your head, “No, I know what you get up to in that bed, the walls are not that thick, but thanks for the offer.” You smile at him as he chuckles and looks mock offended.

“I change the sheets, you know.”

“Corny as it sounds, I wanna sleep on Frankie’s pillow, it smells like him,” you say as you get up and reach for your boots, “Makes me sleep better when he’s gone.”

Santi smiles and pulls you in for another hug as you stand up, “I’m glad I made him go ask for your number, he’s lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, Santi,” you wrap your arms around him and give him a big squeeze, “I’m lucky to have both of you in my life, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably have less sex,” he quips with a grin, “like you say, the walls are not that thick.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you slap his shoulder and laugh. “Sleep well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well, and you know where I am if you need company, just come over.”

...

It’s not very late the next evening when you hear Frankie come through the door, his heavy pack dropping on the floor as you step out from the kitchen. He looks cold and wet, and he gives you a tired smile as you wrap your arms around him.

“Walking in the snow was fucking exhausting,” he grumbles, his cold face tucked against the crook of your neck. “Is there hot water? I really need a shower.”

“Plenty, I didn’t shower yet - fuck!,” you squeal as Frankie’s cold fingers find their way under your sweater, “your hands are so cold!”

“Sorry, but you’re just so soft and warm, hermosa,” he mumbles, pulling you closer and you feel the melting snow on his jacket starting to seep through your clothes.

“Get your clothes off, Frankie boy, I’ll warm up the shower for you,” you giggle as he tries to slide his cold hands down your trousers. “Get off me,” you grin, pushing him away as he disobeys and grabs your ass with two icy hands.

“Only if you shower with me,” he chuckles and you wiggle his hands out of your trousers and start pushing his jacket off.

“Did you get the antibiotics?” you ask as you hang it up to dry behind him.

“Yeah, Will took it to Sean straight away. It was expired but I remember Dr. Mason saying most antibiotics are fine even fifteen years after they’ve expired so I hope they work for Liam.”

“Thanks for going out for them, Frankie, it really means a lot.” Frankie comes into the bathroom with you and sinks down on the toilet seat as you turn on the shower. The water is slow to warm up but it’ll get hot soon enough.

“Sean’s a good man and he’s helped us many times with the radio,” he says, letting you help him undress. Now that he's under the bright bathroom light you can see the dark circles under his eyes, he looks dead on his feet. You unbutton his thick flannel, peeling the layers off him and ushering him into the shower when he tries tugging at your sweater.

“Get warm first, Frankie,” you smile, pinching his cold butt as he steps in, earning you a growl that turns into a full body shudder as the warm water hits him.

“Fuck that’s good,” he groans, dropping his head down onto his chest with a deep sigh.

You stay together in the shower until the warm water runs out and then you drag Frankie to bed with you, only getting up to bring Eve��s leftovers to him. Once he’s eaten he pulls you in close, his hard cock grinding against your hip while he dips his thick fingers into you, swallowing down your moans as you seek out his mouth. When he’s made you come you push him onto his back, straddling his narrow hips and sinking down over his hard cock. His eyes are half closed, head tilted back on to the pillow and you can feel his fingers digging bruises into your hips while he groans under you. He comes hard, with a loud shout, and pulls you down over him as he grinds his hips into you, burying himself deep. He’s almost asleep by the time you untangle yourself from his arms and go to clean up. When you come back he’s softly snoring and he only wakes up enough to wrap his arm around you when you pull the comforter over the both of you.

“Love you,” he mumbles, half asleep, into your neck.

“Love you to, Frankie,” you whisper, taking his hand on your chest and pulling it closer.

...

Will comes by the radio office the next day, just before you close up. His big frame feels even bigger inside the small office and the kitchen chair in the corner creaks under his weight as he sits down. The young girl who’s sitting on her mother’s lap gives him a wide eyed stare as the mother dictates a message to you. You can’t help but giggle at the girl’s astonished face as Will gives her a small finger wave and a smile.

“You need to work on your charm, Will,” you say to him as the girl and her mother have left and you’ve closed the door to the radio room.

“I must look old and scary,” he chuckles and swaps seats so that he’s in front of your desk instead. “I dropped off the meds to Sean last night, he gave them to Liam straight away.”

“Frankie told me, and I stopped by there on my way here this morning, Liam’s already doing better. Dr. Mason says his fever broke just before dawn.”

“That’s great to hear, then our run was worth it,” Will leans back in the chair, running his hand through his hair and sighs, “I need to talk to you about Frankie though.”

“You too? Pope said the same thing when you guys were away, about Frankie’s PTSD getting worse.”

“Yeah, he said he was gonna talk to you about it, but this is about something else, although I’m pretty sure it’s connected to his PTSD.” Will replies and crosses his arms, you recognise the look on his face, the way he collects his thoughts before he speaks.

“When we met up with the guy,” he says eventually, locking eyes with you, “he had a pretty good stash of medicine to trade, but when we asked about antibiotics, he said he didn’t want to trade them for what we were offering. He had some other guy near Worcester who would pay more, more than what we had on us. We tried talking him into accepting our offer but he refused. So I did the trade with him for the other stuff, still trying to persuade him, telling him about Liam and how it would save his life but the guy refused.” Will pauses and shakes his head, “Frankie lost it, he lashed out, punched the guy and threatened to gouge out his eye if he didn’t take us to his supplies. Frankie had his knife out, the point next to the guys eye and Joel was telling him to do it, it was fucking close.”

You shudder, you’ve seen Frankie be violent when needed, but you’d never seen him threaten anyone like that, even though you realized he was capable of it. Will is still looking at you, pausing his story when you pulled back, now you nod at him to continue.

“I was trying to calm things down, the guy was panicking, I was worried he’d do something stupid. And Frankie was not thinking straight, his hands were shaking, he nicked the guy's cheek with his trembling. And the guy caved, took us to his stash, it wasn’t far, and traded us for the antibiotics. Frankie kept talking about how you need them for Sean, to save Liam, that Liam deserves to live because Sean is a good man. I got worried, Frankie wasn’t on top of things, I’ve seen him slip before, towards the end of our time serving together, and that’s where he was now, his headspace was not good.”

“Do you think something triggered him specifically?” you ask and Will shakes his head.

“No, just all of it, the stress and danger of being outside the wall and the need to get meds for Liam. But Joel didn’t help, I’ve talked Frankie back from this kind of situation a couple of times but Joel was pushing it. Yelling at the guy, telling Frankie to get closer, it was fucked up, I had to step in and pull Frankie off the guy.”

Will crosses his arms again and lets out a deep sigh, “Joel’s changed, we know that, it’s like he doesn’t give a fuck about anyone, apart from maybe Tommy. But he's inadvertently getting inside Frankie’s head too, picking at the worst parts of the soldier version of Frankie. And since you’re the only person Frankie really cares about,” Will raises his hand as you begin to protest, “It’s true, I’m not saying Frankie doesn’t care about the rest of us, but you are everything to him, without you, he has nothing, and you know that. And Joel’s particular brand of personal hell is seeping into Frankie and activating behaviors that I thought were long gone..”

“Fuck, Will…” you sigh, sinking down in your chair, looking over at him with worry, “Frankie can’t go out anymore, he just can’t:”

“I know, that’s what I was thinking too. But there’s more, unfortunately, “ Will says with a grimace, “The guy had oxy to trade and I said no, we don’t deal with that. But Joel took it anyway, said he’d just trade it on his own to the soldiers, the profit was too good to pass up on.”

“So Joel’s just gonna trade on his own? With Tommy?” you ask and Will nods, his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown..

“I think so, I talked to Pope and we have to have a sit down with them, see where we stand if Joel insists on trading oxy on his own. But you’re gonna have to talk to Frankie, make sure he’s ok.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him tonight, he can’t go out on runs anymore Will, it’s already fucking with his head, and it’s just getting worse.”

“I agree, but he listens to you, he’ll be fine once he gets away from Joel and doesn’t do runs with him.”

“Thanks Will, I hope you’re right,” you say, getting up and grabbing your coat, “I’d better get home and talk to him straight away.”

“It’ll be fine, he listens to you,” Will says, accepting your hug when you stand on your tiptoes to reach around his neck, “he’ll be fine.”

…

You wish it had been as easy as Will had said, but it wasn’t, far from it. You got home, Frankie was already there, sorting dinner and you kept thinking about what to say to him all through it, and of course he knew something was wrong and asked. But now you’re standing on either side of the couch and you can feel hot tears prickling behind your eyes while Frankie stares at you, his hands on his hips and his brows furrowed.

“I did what I did because of you, because of Liam!” he says, throwing his hands in the air, “He needed the meds and you asked me to get them!”

“I didn’t tell you to go threatening to gouge someone’s eye out!” you say back, your voice louder than you intend, but frustration is making it hard to control yourself, Frankie just doesn’t seem to get it. “How can you-”

“Because I had to!” he yells, cutting you off, “He had what we needed to help Sean and Liam, what was I gonna do? He was refusing to give it to us and we needed those meds. Liam needed those meds! What the fuck was I supposed to do? Walk away?”

“Yes! Maybe that's the choice you have make sometimes! Maybe it’s so fucked up now that you have to choose if you wanna be the guy who gouges someones eye out or not, Frankie!” You yell back at him, angry tears starting to drip and you wipe the palm of your hand over your eyes as Frankie growls.

“I don’t wanna be that guy!” Frankie shouts, gripping the back of the couch and you see his knuckles turn white, “I don’t wanna! But I fucking know how to be that guy and I’m gonna be him if I need to!”.

“You’ve always got a choice! And what if he’d refused, or Will wasn’t there? Would you have done it and taken his eye out?” You can feel tears staining your cheeks now and usually Frankie drops anything he’s doing if he sees you cry, any time you disagree, it’s like kryptonite to him. But now he just stares at you and puts his hands back on his hips.

“I don’t fucking understand you, you’re telling me that guy's eye is worth more than Liam’s life?” Frankie shakes his head like he can’t believe what you’re saying, “He had what we needed to save Liam’s life, what right does he have to deny us that? What if was Lucía? Then what? Would you still tell me his eye was worth more?” He’s coming around the couch and up to you, staring down at you with his eyes dark and you raise your hands, palms towards his chest. “Frankie…”

“No, I would’ve fucking killed him and anyone who had what she needed and you know that! You fucking know I would’ve done anything to save her so you have no right to stop me from doing anything necessary to save Liam!” He’s yelling at you and you take a step back, choking on your tears as Frankie runs both hands through his hair, turning around and stalking back across the living room.

“And it was your fucking idea, you’re idea to get the meds, that’s why I went out there and risked my fucking life in the first place and now you’re telling me I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Frankie, that’s not what I said,” you protest weakly, “I never said..” you’re cut off by a knock on the door and Frankie walks to it without a backwards glance at you.

“Hey Frankie, everything alright?” you hear Joel’s voice from the hall, from his tone you can tell he’s heard your raised voices from outside.

“Hey, yeah, um…all’s good,” Frankie mumbles, “what’s up?”

I thought we’d start planning that next run, if now’s a good time?

“Yeah…sounds good,” Frankie hesitates for a beat, you can hear the tension in his voice, “But not here, can we go somewhere else?”

“Yeah sure, the bars open, we can use the room in the back,” Joel replies and you hear Frankie’s boots scuff on the floor as he pulls them on.

“Frankie, we need to-” you say, walking towards the front door as he stands up and grabs his jacket.

“I need to think,” he interrupts, his eyes on his shoes as he pulls on the jacket, “I’ll be back later.”

And with that, he’s gone.

The front door closes behind him with a heavy thud and you can’t seem to move. You’ve argued before, plenty of times, over stupid things. But he’s never left, never in the middle of an argument. But now he’s gone and you’re left standing with wet cheeks and a lead ball in the pit of your stomach.

Slowly anger seeps into you, drying up your tears and making you bunch up your fists as you turn back to the kitchen. You break one of the bowls as you throw the remains of your dinner into the sink but you leave the broken pieces there as you stomp into the bathroom and turn on the shower. You let the hot water scald you until it starts to run cold and you step out, your skin damp and heated. It’s not even late, but you crawl into bed, pulling the comforter tight around you, trying to force your body into sleep two hours before it’s usual time. Your anger and frustration grows as you twist and turn, every position uncomfortable and with a furious kick you knock Frankie’s pillow off the bed.

Finally, much later, when you’ve resigned to lying flat on your back and staring at the ceiling, you hear his key in the front door. As you listen he kicks his boots off, the jacket falls on the floor and he knocks the coffee table as he stumbles to the kitchen. Cursing loudly in Spanish, he sounds drunk. The kitchen tap runs and you hear the clatter of the broken bowl in the sink and another curse as a glass clinks.

Eventually he stumbles into the bedroom and you sit up, turning on the bedside lamp. It makes him stop at the door, his face sullen and tired, you can see his red eyes even from the bed. He’s swaying where he stands, one hand on the door frame to keep himself steady.

“You have no right to judge me for what I do to survive,” he says, his tone stubborn.

“You weren’t doing it to survive, Frankie,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm as anger flares up inside your chest again.

“I did what I had to do so that Liam could survive,” he takes an unsteady step towards the bed, his movements are sluggish, his eyelids heavy, “You’re not out there, you don’t have to make the choices, I have to save them, we have to save them, Joel and me.”

He spots his pillow on the floor and bends down to pick it up, almost losing his balance in the process. He staggers backwards, holding the pillow up, pointing it at you, opening his mouth.

“Frankie, come to bed,” you say, stopping him, “you need to sleep, we should talk about this when you’re sober.”

“You don’t know what I see, every night,” he jabs the pillow at you, his words starting to slur, “and now you don’t want me in bed with you. I’m too fucked up for you? Is that it?” He shouts the last words, squeezing his eyes shut and he loses his balance, stumbling back to the wall and catching it to remain upright.

“Frankie!” you call, scrambling from the bed, “you know that’s not true, you know that’s never true!” You can feel tears starting to well up as you reach for him, putting out your hands to steady him. But he brushes you off, pushing himself off the wall and lurch through the door, back to the living room.

“You, you, ask me to go outside, to..to…get you stuff, but then…you think I’m a mo..monster when I do what I ne-need to do, to- to survive, to help h-her survive.” He slumps down on the couch, flat on his belly, burying his face in the pillow.

“I don’t think you’re a monster, Frankie,” you sob, “I never said anything like that. Please just come to bed, we’ll talk in the morning, please, Frankie, come to bed with me.” You kneel by the couch, taking his hand, it’s limp in your grip and he shakes his head, his eyes closed.

“There’s n-no t-tomorrow,” he mutters, sleep, or maybe unconsciousness, dragging him under, as you wrap your fingers around him.

You rock back on your heels, swallowing down another sob, still holding his hand. It’s never been this bad, you’ve never seen him like this and you’re suddenly scared. It’d been getting worse, but now it’s spilled over so suddenly and you feel overwhelmed, frozen on the floor next to him as he begins to snore.

In sleep he still looks like your sweet Frankie, even though his brow is furrowed and troubled. But you feel like you’ve had a glimpse of the real darkness that sits inside him, and it’s left you paralyzed. What do you say tomorrow? How do you get him passed this?

Your body is frozen to the spot next to him, but your mind is racing, until a shiver makes you move. Stiff and like a sleepwalker you pull yourself up from the floor and cover Frankie with the blanket from the back of the couch. Then you drag yourself back to bed and burrow yourself deep under the comforter. It takes hours before you fall into a fitful sleep, new nightmares plaguing your mind as you try to find, and save, a new version of Frankie of who doesn’t want to be saved. At least not by you.

Chapter 30

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446

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mihstar · 9 months

Text

This constant noise all the time (or 'Ellie dies instead of Joel' oneshot)

Hey! First of all I just wanted to say that I'm not a writer and didn't even intend to post when I wrote this. But yesterday, someone here was talking about the possibility of Ellie dying in Joel's place, and and I said something about this little draft of mine, and two people said to me that they would read it and it would be cool if I post... And now I'm babbling, sorry. Anyway, I hope you like it. @ranna-alga thanks for the boost of courage <3 And English it's not my first language so sorry for any mistakes.

Summary: Winter arrives for the residents of Jackson, bringing a snowstorm, foreigners survivors, and darkness.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°°••°•°•°•°

Since a little after Ellie was gone, Joel felt heavier.

He would wake up in the morning, surrounded by the walls of his room. Or sometimes in her place, something he's been doing a lot lately. He can tell Tommy worries every time he sees him walking some nights to there instead to his own house, his little brother thinks it wouldn't bring no good. Maybe it wouldn't. But he does anyway - let the warm scent of the sheets make it's way into his nostrils 'til his body feels numb. - He would eat something. Lukewarm coffe with some old toast or bittersweet fruit. Or sometimes nothing. Some days, he would get up and go through the day. Dutties. Patrols. Plans. And some other days... Some of them he wouldn't even leave his porch. Or the inside of his house. Would be still all day, waiting for it to pass so he could close his eyes again. Sometimes, he has dreams with her. Things they did together and things he wish they did. Those are his favourite.

Another times, he would wake up in the middle of the night sweating and calling for her name in the dark. Crying and sobbing. Skull cracking noises ringing vividly in his ears. Choked throat and heart overflowing with bitterness.

It was strange, kind of.

When Sarah died, Joel closed and locked up himself like a door, becoming a heartless man that would rather spend his time killing his way to Boston and fighting with his brother than to remember any fragment of his dead daughter. But now at the dead of his second one, Joel found himself revisiting all of his memories, fragments, anything that would feel like his Ellie again. Maybe because then, Joel couldn't alow himself to be vulnerable about Sarah like that while trying to survive the first years of the outbreak. Not that he wanted to survive by that time, though. He was trying for Tommy. Now, Joel feels like he isn't quite the same. Part of it is Ellie's fault- That kid changed him in so many ways. That blinding rage that used to take control of his body doesn't make him impulsive like it used to do. Salt Lake is still his last big sin in his history. Instead of, he was letting this, his girl's ghost haunt him 'till the rest of his days.

He's not sure if remembering her stops him from putting a bullet into his brain or just kills him slowly like a cancer. Maybe both. But he can't fucking help it.

He can't help but try to remember every single freckle of her face, the way her little bony fingers would strum the guitar he gave her. He tried to remind himself of every single joke or random facts about space she read somewhere. The sound of her laugh was his prayer that he would imagine in his head everynight. Keep with him like a treasure and make sure he would never forget that sound. He couldn't forget, she deserves to be remembered.

Joel also usually thinks about the day before Ellie was gone too. He wasn't hoping to see her at the Community hall that night when Tommy invited him. He saw her almost everyday, but after their fight, there were times he would look at her and feel like he haven't seen her in ages. Like he lost too damn much. By the years, ellie got taller and her features matured with her age. She lost some of her baby fat and she was beginning to look more like the adult folks in town - even when all Joel could see when looking at her was the little girl following his steps on the road, years ago. His heart aches to think he would never see her turn into the beautiful woman she sure would have been.

Remembering about their last day in Jackson was the memory that most hurts to think about. Because of the fact that, in that day, none of them knew what would happen in the next one. She was dancing with that kid Dina by the sound of a song about God, not having an ideia that it would be her last dance, her last night, her last kiss. If she knew about that, or at least had a bad omen, would she have done diferently and opened up her feelings to that girl before It was too late? Before she would end up being burried in dirt at Jackson's cemetery?

And Snow, he recalls thinking it when they buried her. When he buried her. Small and heavy weight wrapped in a white sheet. Too limp and quiet in his arms when he found it too hard to let go-

When winter arrived for the first time after they settled in town, Ellie would always be a little more cautious about this particular season of the year. Not that she used to say to him, because she didn't. Even If he asked to. He doesn't know if It's because that would be breaking the "tough girl" persona she liked to be, or if It's for Joel's sake: Ellie knew he already felt very responsible about everything that happened after they were ambushed in Colorado, she probably wouldn't want to make him feel worse. So she used to say she was fine. But Joel knew her enough to notice her posture change and her quiet behavior; fingers always moving and the urge to spend more time at home, and not just brcause of the cold. Think about it now, gives chills down to his spine.

Poor kiddo, It's almost like the kid could sense winter smelled like her death. Bright red all over the floor. Bare limp arms as they took off her sweater 'cause they wanted to make sure she was who they thought. Metallic smell invading his senses and his scream tearing his lungs. Strong arms lift and pick up momentum one last time, the wind outside whistling as death opened the door. 'Please she's just a kid!' and 'Ellie, baby, get up' just before...

It's so hard to associate the small body, bloody and shrunken like a fetus on the floor of Baldwin mansion with the green eyed girl in his porch, stabbing his heart with daggers and saying she would enjoy to have him in her life again - even when her heart was still so broken by him. And, at the end of that night, Joel turned off the lights and went to bed, not aware that that would be the last time he spoke to his babygirl. Because her skull would be split in half by a fucking golf club in the next morning.

He wonders if she called for his name at any moment during that. Godammit, she must have been so scared and lonely, Joel knew It. Her whole body must have hurt so much, being spanked in that cold floor, she must have been in so much pain, crying and confused about why those fuckers were doing such a thing. Joel is not sure if those cowards did even brother to explain anything to her. Did she think about him once? Was waiting for him to be there sooner?

Sarah's last (and agonizing) moments of pain lasted a minute or two, and Joel was there with her all the time, holding her and looking into her eyes until any sign of life fade through them like dust. The fact that he heard Ellie's screams even though she was almost dying and too weak to open her eyes indicates that her torture began well before his intervention. And when he finally came to rescue, his body was hold against the floor five feet away from her. And he had to watch her last minutes, unable to touch her, while her body let out one last painful breath. So fragile, so gore and tragic. Like a baby deer slaughtered by a pack of hungry wolves.

And, even at death, Ellie would still be the top of his worries. He can't watch a movie he already seen before cause her reactions were still vivid in his head, neither watch a new one cause then he will wonder if she would've liked or think it's bullshit. He does plays guitar, but doesn't sing 'cause that's something he only used to do to his baby girl. Hurts to be with Jesse in patrol because he looks at that kid and reminds him so much of his own. Seeing other people was the worst part. They laughing. They living, talking, fucking doing things because she used to be one of them. Ellie would be disappointed to see him like this. Miserable, worse than when they met, a dead weight, guilty...

He feels guilty because he knows he is, in fact, guilty. Tommy says other wise, says there's nothing he could've done. You gave her a home and people like me 'nd Maria who truly cared about her. She may have been mad at you at some point and things were not fuckin' great between you two but she recognized that. So now, if you wanna say her death it's on you, go on... that ain't fine by me neither but there's nothin' I can say to handle you of that. But don't say you weren't good to her because we both know it ain't true. Ellie died, Joel. But she had the best years of her life. Accept that, brother.

But Tommy doesn't get it. He only saw these last couple of years, but he hasn't seen all of it. Not they journey, not their start. He never failed anyone.

Joel was her protector during years, he was her guardian, he always had some kind of sixth sense whenever became to that kid, in the road or not. He should've know. He should've done something, somehow prevented that from happening to her. It was him in the first place, those people were there for his sins. Not hers, she didn't have any.

'I will never leave you alone again' was the exact same words he said that day, cupping Ellie's cheeks when that building was almost falling in their heads by the flames. But he did, he did left her. Cold, broken, gone. It was stupid from him to think he wouldn't fail with this kid when he already failed with another one before, and even more cruel to make a little girl believe in a promise he wouldn't keep. She saved him on that winter with all her strength, but he didn't save her in this Winter. If the memories of the girl is not a Cancer to his heart, this thought may be.

Spreading on him like a fungus.

Joel have never been a very religious man, but he likes to think that If there's really a place reserved for good-hearted souls worthy of eternal rest, Ellie is there. Maybe exploring bright sacred places or good memories. Probably even finally being able to meet another girl that both have knowledge of a person in common. Joel is not very sure that he would Join them someday, though. Even If he would like to think about it if he had time. Pretend. Like it isn't impossible.

Because sure as hell would be once he find out the lair of the hungry wolves. Salt Lake City was big sin, but It wasn't his last. Joel was going to make sure It wasn't.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Iit's not perfect but I think it turned out pretty good as a person who doesn't really have writing skills... Right?🙈 Please share and don't forget to say what do you think about it. @elliespuns Come see this before I regret.

#the last of us #ellie and joel #open ending #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us 2 #canon divergence #ellie williams #abby anderson #joel miller

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joculatrixster · 1 month

Note

"ill admit i dont watch sos nor raft streams but im calling out ppl who r calling scott specifically abusive and ive literally never seen anyone as vilinized as scott in fics i can think off the top of my head 3 fics ive seen where scott is the vilian and portrayed as jimmys abuser which is NOT true for anyone u mentioned." You can't say Scott is the only one villainized in the same breath as admitting you haven't seen content where other CCs get villainized by the audience.

Many of the *exact same people* who criticize Scott have also come out with posts talking about how uncomfortable Sausage makes them, some of them specifically citing his behavior toward Jimmy in SOS. Of course, I can't say that's true for everyone in fandom who criticizes Scott, but in my experience people critical of Scott are critical of others, too, regardless of their sexuality. Saying the criticism is fueled by homophobia doesn't track when the people criticizing Scott are also criticizing straight CCs/characters for very similar things.

Everyone has a different fandom experience based on what circles/fan archives/discussion boards they're on, and even on the same site people can have different experiences because of stuff like algorithms and who you're following. IIRC I have seen a fic where Grian, Jimmy, Joel and Lizzie were all siblings and Lizzie called out Grian and Joel for not being good brothers to Jimmy, while the only fic I've seen with Scott being "villainized" was a short ficlet where he did something small out of jealousy that didn't have any long term effects. I have actually gone *looking* for toxic FH fanfic and not found any. (I like complicated messy relationship story lines, so I feel like toxic FH in fic form would be fun to read.) Obviously this has not been your experience, but you seem to be treating your fandom experience as if it's the same for everyone else, which it's not.

its nnot just my experience when multiple multiple ppl have spoken out about how prominent it is specifically for scott again if its just a small issue id understand but the normalization is insane, ive seen a fic where scott turns jimmy into his pet doll and he needs to be saved from his clutches. ive read a gic where scott kills pearl and wants to destroy the entire world and has jimmy as his pet who he promised to keep as long as he stayed uner his thumb. ive read a fic where scott just leaves jimmy at the alter and pearl hunts him down and lashes out violently at him and we r meant to side w pearl for attacking him bc he didnt feel bad for poor jimmy. these were not obscure fics or small fics. u seem to assume an issue others r clearly pointing out theyve seen way more than others is only something some fridnge guy is complaining about instead of perhaps something UVE missed hm? uve seen 1 fic where joel and grian r kinda shitty to jimmy and get called out ive read multiple fics where scott breaks down jimmy as a person and needs to be saved from him, ive seen multiple posts calling irl scott smajor am abuser bc of one clip, ive seen pll say jimmy deadass is uncomfortable w FH and doesnt like scott which is just weird ass behavior. yes sausage gets flack i belive this but i haven't seen a shit ton of fics making sausage break jimmy soan mentally then get killed or punished in the end for being an irredeemable abuser. ive seen multiple of that for scott or just seeing scott in general in a veryyy negative light which is clearly due to an unfavorable interpretation of his character. which is fine, but name three fics where grian is intpreted that unfavorably w over 100 kueos. no seriously show me the fics where grian dies in the 3nd and its a thing everyone is happy about in the ficand they do not mourn him at all bc they hated him. go on!

its funny how ur orignal anon nitpicked my post and ur reply again nitpicks one part of a wider post as if the point i said was even what ur replyin to, im talking fandom space but even if i wasnt im talking life series fandom while i do mention oli thats just to ponnt out that One scott clip is not Just a scott thing, girl. vilinized in life series aka what i tagged, dont be stupid here its literally just making u look stupid 😭i used grian as an example bc hes someone who acts similar in the space i was criticizing and not sausage bc i am aware things may be different in a DIFFERENT context. ur majorlyyyy derialing and not rlly proving me wrong ur just proving that u dont rlly get what im saying which is fine but also all ur points r just...not disproving anything l. ur example is 1 grian and joel being criticized in one(1) fic(which is not what vilianized even means dude but hey ill give u this u did find one somewhat grian neg fic!) and 2 a guy not even in the fandom i tagged. girl...

#im gonna become the joker #scott smajor #anon #discourse #time to. joke on them. or whatver tf the joker does #im bored rn so rlly idc #conner used the ugliest baby photo for his anons i fear i might need to pull it out soon for u anon be so fr rn #mcyt discourse #im so sorry normals #im back in...the trenches

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wakandas-vibranium · 1 year

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Wednesday Nights || Part Four

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, time skip, angst, fluff

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit choppy. I am not a fan of time skips. Four chapters down, one more to go. Thank y'all for reading. Please like, comment, and share!

part one

part two

part three

part five

“Mom!”

You awakened with a jolt, in a cold sweat in your new living quarters. You'd been suffering the same nightmare for 20 years. You had to witness your mother turn and attack your father, turning him. Then, before they could attack and turn you, they were both gunned down.

That was 20 years ago and you still weren’t fully recovered. Your luck finally started to come through these last six months.

You were walking alone in the winter cold. The cold air was stinging on your skin as you traveled down the icy river.

Six people on horses surrounded you and grilled you so badly that you thought they were going to kill you. One of the men on the horses yanked his bandana down over his face and screamed your name so loudly that he startled the horses and a few of the others with him.

“Y/N!” Tommy called as he hopped down from his horse, running over to you. Even though his hair was longer and he'd grown a beard, you recognized Tommy right away.

The blood rushed to your face so quickly that you almost passed out. You thought he was dead. You assumed all three of them were all dead. You peered over Tommy's shoulder at the other riders as he drew you into a crushing hug. You didn't see Joel. Was Joel still alive? Was he even here with Tommy?

You rode back with Tommy on his horse, relieved to be off your feet. You'd been walking for weeks. You were in the dining hall eating with Tommy and his new wife, Maria. She was gorgeous and a little intimidating, but she made small talk.

You couldn’t help but notice her body language and the way her lips would thin into a straight line and shoulders would tense at any mention of Joel. Tommy let you know as soon as possible that Sarah didn’t make it. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, but managed to keep it together. Before today, you already assumed she died.

“It’s not like your brother is the best at making decisions,” Maria mumbled, fighting back an eye roll.

Tommy was sharing with you some of the things he and Joel had to do in order to survive. You’d done similar things and a few worse things. You weren’t one to judge and you weren’t going to judge Tommy and Joel. They were the only family you had left.

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” You snapped, no longer able to ignore the jabs Maria kept taking at Joel.

And the fact that Tommy just sat there and let her insult his brother really pissed you off. Not so much Tommy, but Maria's uppity demeanor got under your skin. Who the hell did she think she was? Good for her if she never had to stoop so low to survive in this shitty post-apocalyptic world. Good for fuckin' her, you thought.

Tommy leaned forward and whispered something into his wife's ear. She cringed and glanced at you before apologizing. Tommy opted to change the subject and asked you what happened to you on breakout day.

“My parents turned right in front of me. Before I could even comprehend what was happenin’ to ‘em they were shot dead.”

You remembered that day like it was yesterday. It was awful. Your parents were taken from you too fast. It was unfair.

“Then I hauled ass across Austin to try and get to you, Joel and Sarah. None of you were answering your phones so I figured it must have been happening around y’all too.”

You had a severe panic attack once you realized that you were well and truly on your own. You were lost. You didn’t know what to do without any of them. How were you supposed to survive in a world when your favorite five people no longer existed?

“Eventually I ended up working with a small group of nine people to help find a cure for whatever this was. I worked with doctors, nurses, scientists on this. We were desperate to find a cure. Tommy, I’ve done things that I’m not proud of, but we’ve exhausted every single possibility and nothing. There is no cure for this.”

“Wow.” Tommy said, sighing deeply at your newfound news. He had held out hope that there was a cure, but he wasn’t shocked that there wasn’t one.

Enough about you. Tommy told you that Joel was alive and I just missed him by a few weeks.

“Where is Joel?”

“Ellie—the young girl he’s with is immune. Joel took her to a hospital — a firefly post so that they could use Ellie’s blood to make a cure.” Tommy explained cooly.

“What?” You uttered lowly. You had your fair share of run-ins with the fireflies. Enough for a lifetime, and each instance damn near cost you your life. You had the awful pleasure of meeting their leader, Marlene. She had an impressive right hook, but your left was a lot meaner.

The nine people you'd been traveling with for the past 20 years were all dead. The majority were killed by clickers, while the others were killed by firefly bombs. You were furious and alone. On a mission to find Marlene, the leader of the fireflies.

You were determined to kill her where she stood. You'd had a few run-ins with Marlene, and they always ended bloody.

You didn't belong to FEDRA or the Fireflies. You were part of a small group of surgeons, biologists, nurses, and medical researchers. You were the only immunologist on the team. Shortly after the outbreak, all nine of you got together to try to find a cure. You clung to them after you assumed Joel, Sarah, and Tommy were no longer alive.

After your parents were killed, you attempted to drive across town to Joel's house, but the highway was already shut down. You'd also overheard from an officer that Joel's neighborhood was a hot zone full of infected people. You were devastated. You had no family left within a matter of hours.

You last saw her and her band of fireflies in Atlanta about a year ago. She ordered her men to blow up a couple buildings where you and the rest of your group were hiding from FEDRA. You barely escaped with your life. Everyone else who was with you died. Blown to smithereens.

“There is no fuckin’ cure, Tommy.”

“But Joel said—“

“—Well whoever told Joel and Ellie that is a goddamn liar. They’re gonna kill that poor girl and it’ll have been for nothin’.”

Tommy chewed on his lip, pondering your information. He was probably even more worried about his brother now. As he should be. Joel wasn’t safe with the fireflies. No one was.

“Is there any way to contact them?” You asked, still hopeful.

“They’ve been gone for a month, Y/N,” Tommy admitted, hesitancy heavy in his voice, “Joel said they’d come back once they were finished.”

“Hopefully Joel realizes that Ellie will die and they’ll come back.” Maria reasoned, shooting you a small smile.

“This isn’t good.” You exhaled sharply.

Anyway, that was five months ago. You were still with them in Jackson. It was a safe community that actually thrived plus you weren’t going to give up the opportunity to see Joel again.

You were with Tommy in Jackson for almost six months now and still no word from Joel or his whereabouts.

You were starting to get discouraged.

You didn’t know it, but off in the far distance, Joel and Ellie were making their way back to Jackson.

You just needed to hold on just a little while longer.

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sixhours · 7 months

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Chapter 7 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

It’s the 21st anniversary of the day the world ended, and you decide to take your evening break at the Tipsy Bison, nursing a mug of hot coffee at the bar. The mood in the place is quiet, but not exactly somber. The place is dotted with people like you; one has already offered to buy you a drink. You’re not sure how that’s supposed to work in a trade economy, but you decline regardless. He’s not your type.

The pretty brunette at the other end of the bar, however…

There’s a trio of young people, barely old enough to drink, laughing and talking amongst themselves at a table in the corner like it’s any other Friday night in September. It occurs to you that they’re not old enough to have known any other life.

You’re feeling very old when a gruff voice materializes behind you. “What’s up, doc?”

“Never heard that one before,” you say dryly as Joel takes a seat on the stool next to yours. He flags down the bartender and orders a double bourbon, neat.

You raise your eyebrows. “Thought you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t,” he says easily. He nods at the bartender when the drink is set down, then picks it up and takes a slow, nursing sip.

“Long day?”

“The longest,” he murmurs, then nods at your mug. “You?”

“Just coffee,” you say. “I’m on call. Sometimes it’s nice to get out, stretch my legs. Where’s Ellie?”

“Uh, she’s with friends. Same pack of kids. They all run together, I guess.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen them around. They seem alright.”

He scoffs lightly, side-eyes you. “Spoken like someone who’s never had a teenager.”

“Got me there.”

He nods and sips his drink. You sit together in unfamiliar but amiable silence.

“So, no kids,” he says, tilting his head in a question. “Boyfriend? Husband?”

“None of the above,” you say, smirking a little, glancing at the pretty brunette. She meets your eyes, holds your gaze for a touch longer than necessary and smiles. “No family. I was an only child, my parents were killed when they bombed New York.”

Your voice is flat; you’ve recited this fact about yourself so many times. For his part, Joel doesn’t feign shock or tell you how sorry he is. What would be the point? The world is full of loss; yours is just one in a long line.

You take another drink before turning the question back on him. “And you? Boyfriend? Husband? Family?”

He shoots you a sideways glance. “Just my brother, Tommy. Got his ass arrested the night everything went to shit, so I had to take the truck into town and bail him out. Made sense to just keep drivin’,” he says, staring into the bottom of his glass like he could see his future in the amber liquid.

“There’s a funny kind of luck in that.”

Joel grunts but doesn’t continue, and you leave him to his drink.

Nature calls. You ease yourself off the barstool and make your way to the restroom around the corner. The fluorescent light flickers as you do your business, wash your hands, and for a moment you’re almost dizzy with the sense of déjà vu; the world ended twenty-one years ago, but there are still podunk bars in small towns with grimy, badly lit restrooms.

You open the door and find a man standing in the frame, looking pointedly at you. You try to bypass him, but he puts his hand on the doorframe, leaning in, blocking your exit. You recognize him as the one who tried to buy you a drink, and your stomach tightens. He has a look in his eyes that you know too well.

“Hey, baby–how ‘bout that drink?”

“Not happening,” you say flatly. “Move.”

He grabs your arm, not tight, but enough to send a message, crowding you back into the tiny restroom. “C’mon, don’t be like that. We could have a little fun.”

His other hand comes up to stroke your jawline. You snatch the last two fingers away and twist them backward just enough to hurt.

“What the fuck bitch–”

His palm makes contact with your cheek; the slap rings in your ears and makes your eyes water.

Should have saw that coming. You’re going soft.

Without thinking, you drive your pointed fingers directly into his windpipe with all the force you can muster. He collapses backward against the stall door, falling inward, clutching his throat.

“Bitch,” he wheezes, but his eyes roll in his head, and when you move toward him, he scrabbles frantically away.

Another shadow in the doorway, and you tense, rounding on them, ready to defend yourself again. It takes a moment to register that it’s Joel, watching you with something like awe.

“He’ll be fine,” you say, trying to slow your breath, shaking out your hand. It hurts more than your cheek; you broke a nail. “Just needs to sleep it off.”

Suddenly the walkie on your belt scratches out a message, summoning you to the clinic.

“Shit. Guess that’s my last call.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Joel says quickly, still looking uneasily at the guy on the floor.

You scoff. “I don’t need your protection, Miller.”

You’re not expecting him to reach out and take you by the chin, delicately tipping your face to the side, examining the blooming red mark on your cheek.

“I can see that,” he says. “But I’m headin’ that way.”

You sigh, gently ducking away from his touch, brushing off your slacks. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You wait at the door while Joel talks to the bartender, probably figuring out how to get the asshole out of the bathroom.

“Sheriff’ll take care of him,” Joel says, pushing open the door and standing aside to let you go first.

“What happens then?”

“Not his first offense. He’ll prob’ly get put out.”

You whistle softly. “They don’t fuck around, huh?”

Joel shakes his head, but he’s gone back to being quiet, broody. You walk down Main Street, your gaze drawn upward. The sky is clear and inky black, dotted with pinpricks of light.

“They never turned off the damn lights in the QZ,” you say offhandedly. “You couldn't see the stars.”

He follows your gaze. “I remember.”

You look over at him, questioning.

“Was in Boston for a while,” he says, catching your eye. “Total shithole.”

You turn your face back to the stars, hoping the current of shock snaking through you doesn’t show.

Boston.

“So…what brought you all the way out here?”

“Came lookin’ for Tommy. He ran off and married Maria, we lost touch…I thought maybe…” he trails off, but you get the picture.

“And you decided to stay?”

He shrugs, looking around at the main street. “Seemed safe. Safer than anything we’d seen in…well, ever.”

“And Ellie? She was with you?”

“She…tagged along,” he nods. “What about, uh, you?”

“Me?”

“What brought you to Jackson?”

“Oh, I…was at the QZ near Omaha for a while. But things went bad,” you say. “I decided I’d be better off taking my chances elsewhere.”

“Alone?”

You nod. “I managed.”

“Yeah, I bet,” he says, tossing a knowing look over his shoulder toward the bar.

“Jackson is…so different from Omaha,” you say, suddenly eager to deflect his attention.

You don’t tell him that it’s safer than any of the other communities you’ve infiltrated. You don’t tell him that you’ve gained weight because you’re fed. You work hard, you go to sleep in a soft bed with a full stomach…and you’re needed. The thought sends a thrill of belonging through you, and with it, an unfamiliar pang of guilt that you quash down immediately.

“You miss it? The QZ?” he asks as if reading your mind.

You bark a laugh, thinking of your rotting apartment back in Boston that you so rarely see. How can you be homesick when you don’t have a home? “Hardly. No, you want to know what I miss?”

He tips his head, waiting for your answer.

“Mango smoothies…the kind I used to get from the cafeteria when I worked at the hospital. I miss real fruit that doesn’t come from a can. I miss bananas. God, anything that isn’t a mealy, tasteless apple,” you sigh.

This elicits an honest-to-god chuckle, surprising you, the sound so unfamiliar from his lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’,” he says, but he’s smirking. The expression lights up his face, softens him. Maybe it’s the booze. “Fruit, huh?”

“Fruit,” you repeat, feeling vaguely defensive. “It’s the little things, I guess.”

“I s’pose,” he says.

The walkie crackles at your belt, calling your name; you realize you’re standing outside the clinic.

“Guess I’d better get back to it. Thanks for the walk, Miller.”

“G’night,” Joel nods, lingering just a touch longer than necessary before he ducks his head and walks off toward home.

~*~

The pretty brunette from the bar shows up at the clinic a few days later to invite you out for coffee. Her name is Theresa, and she’s one of Jackson’s regular patrollers. She’s younger, fifteen years your junior, but those things don’t seem to matter the way they used to. She’s good in bed and a perfect mark for gathering intel.

It helps that she likes to talk. After a few dates and a few drinks, you’re intimately familiar with the Jackson patrol routes and outpost locations. When you’re not working, she takes you to bed and uses her busy tongue to lick you senseless.

You have to admit, it’s nice to be with someone who knows where your clitoris is, for a change.

You’re lying together in a post-orgasm haze, legs tangled together, when she asks you the question.

“So…what’s the deal with you and Joel?”

You pull back, trying to shake off the lull of oxytocin burbling happily through your system. “Wait, what?”

“It’s a small town, babe. Heard he spent a bunch of time over here. Thought maybe you…y’know.”

“There’s no deal. I needed some work done on the house, he did me a favor.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” She rolls onto her belly, raising an eyebrow. “Some ‘work on the house’?”

“His daughter was sick, I treated her, he wanted to pay me back.”

Theresa clucks her tongue thoughtfully. “Joel Miller doesn’t do ‘favors’. I can’t even get him to cover a patrol shift when I’m on day three of the Red Death and the only thing keeping me upright is a double-dose of twenty-year-old Midol.”

You snort. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“So what’d you do? Fuck him?” she giggles, and you wait for just a beat too long to answer. Her sweet pink lips drop open in mock scandal.

“Whoa…you slut ,” she says appraisingly.

You roll your eyes, suddenly annoyed with this conversation. “Jealous?”

“Are you kidding? I swore off dick when I was fifteen.”

She seems to grow serious, one finger gently drawing a path from your temple to your jaw. “I’d just…be careful with that one. He’s got a reputation.”

“Mm, I’ve heard as much.”

“No, not like that. I mean…he’s…lethal,” she looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Her finger brushes your lips, gently pulling down, and you swipe at it with your tongue, sucking the slender digit into your wet mouth as her pupils blow wide. “Dangerous.”

You think of him drawing the gun, the cold, hard look in his eyes. “I like danger.”

She rolls you onto your back, straddles you, curves over your body like a comma, slick center dragging hot and heavy against your belly. Her tongue is in your mouth, and your fingers are threaded in her hair, and soon Joel is the furthest thing from both of your minds.

~*~

“I suppose you could do worse.”

“Hmm?”

“Joel.”

“Back on this again,” you mutter, sitting up, picking up your clothes piece by piece. “There’s nothing there, Thea.”

“I mean, I guess he’s hot…for a guy,” she teases, wrinkling her nose.

You shoot her a look. “I’m going to take a bath. Wanna join me? Or should we keep talking about the asshole?”

Thankfully she opts for the bath.

~*~

It’s October, and on a rare day when she isn’t patrolling and you’re not at the clinic, Theresa drags you to the annual Jackson Harvest dance. It’s the highlight of a weekend festival to cap off the harvest season, with games for the kids, a pie bake-off, and an old-fashioned cider press; all the comforts of a fall day in a world that no longer exists except in this secluded little bubble in the middle of nowhere, Wyoming.

Tables and benches are pushed to the side of the cafeteria to make space for a dance floor, lights are strung up along the beams, and someone has cobbled together a sound system and a box full of old vinyl, cassettes, and CDs. They’re playing 80’s music when you enter, something you used to know by heart, probably sang at the top of your lungs into a hairbrush when you were a kid, but haven’t heard in a very long time.

Theresa immediately grabs your wrist and pulls you into the middle of the room, but it’s claustrophobic in the crush of people and you excuse yourself.

You make for the edge of the cafeteria, thinking you’re going to need alcohol to get through this. It feels like high school all over again–draped against the wall, waiting for the girl you liked to ask you to dance, knowing she wouldn’t dare–except this time you’re solidly in middle age and watching your girlfriend grind on a twenty-something in skinny jeans.

You’re starting to think this relationship is reaching its inevitable conclusion when you spot a familiar face near the concessions. Ellie is standing with a cluster of teens, all of whom look furtive and overly casual like they’re trying hard not to be noticed. You suspect they’re hoping the adults will look away long enough for them to sneak a beer or three.

You make your way over to the table and sure enough, your presence causes them to scatter, Ellie included. You half smile and grab a bottle of homemade hard cider to sip at while you study the room.

There’s no sign of Joel, but you spot Tommy and Maria talking to another couple. This must be a date night. Theresa is still dancing, and her eyes light up when she sees you. You give her a little wave but take a seat, content to watch from the sidelines.

Eventually, she finds you nursing your cider on the bench.

“Hey,” she says, plopping down next to you, grabbing the bottle from your hands and taking a long drink. “Didn’t take you for a wallflower, babe.”

“It’s…a lot,” you say truthfully. The crowd, the sounds, the lights; you feel the start of a headache gathering behind your eyes.

The music changes, something slower–Radiohead, you think. Theresa leans into you. Her breath is sweet-sour from the cider. “Come dance with me.”

“I’m not–”

“C’mon, it’s a good one,” she says with a pout. “Besides, I saw you watching me.”

“Fine,” you say, grabbing the cider back and downing the remains in two big gulps. “But you’re going to regret it when I step on your feet.”

She pulls you onto the floor and into her arms, looping them around your waist, swaying with the music.

I've given all I can,

It's not enough…

“Not so bad, huh?” she leans in to purr into your ear, and you grudgingly admit to yourself that it feels nice; the softness of her body against yours, the warmth. You relax into her and let her head rest lightly on your shoulder. Her curls are sweet and musky with lavender oil, her fingers hot against the skin where your t-shirt rides up at your waist.

For a minute there,

I lost myself, I lost myself…

Slowly you become aware of Ellie, standing across the room…watching you. You make eye contact and she immediately looks away, turning, and then she’s lost to the crowd as Theresa leans back and grins at you.

“You haven’t stepped on my feet yet.”

“The night is young,” you quip.

The song fades out and now they’re playing some teenybopper boy-band hit you remember from the 90’s, the kind of thing you’d never have listened to before. Now, though, you let your body move to the music, letting yourself feel it, and Theresa laughs approvingly.

For a few minutes, you don’t feel the subtle ache in your hips or the pressure on your aging lower back. You throw your hands up, rock your head from side to side. You’re twenty-three and in med school and they’re playing your favorite song and you’re out at the club trying to blow off steam, trying to forget that someday you’ll hold a person’s life in your hands. All your failures lie ahead, and you’re safe in the embrace of youth.

You look up and meet her eyes.

Joanna.

Your breath catches, your skin breaks out in a sweat that has nothing to do with exertion. The little cafeteria is stifling, bodies on all sides, and the floor is spinning under your feet. You lurch, leaning into Theresa, who mistakes your distress for love, pulling you closer.

“Gonna grab some air,” you gasp, breaking away before she can answer.

You burst into the cold night, relishing the way the air prickles your overheated skin. Hands shaking, you reach into your pocket and pull out a single cigarette and a lighter; you haven’t had a drag in weeks. You flick the lighter until it catches, already anticipating the balm of the smoke filling your lungs.

“Whatcha doin’?”

You jump at the voice, the unlit cigarette flying from your fingers and landing somewhere in the grass. You turn to see Ellie sitting on the porch railing, swinging her feet. You stash the lighter; the cig is a lost cause.

“Fuck,” you whisper, then turn to her. “It’s…warm in there. Needed to breathe.”

She quirks her lips, eyeing the bulge of the lighter in your pocket. “Right.”

“Does your dad know you’re here?” you mutter, wondering if you’ll be able to find the cigarette in the grass.

“He’s with the baby. Tommy said he’d keep an eye on me,” she says.

You’re pretty sure Tommy is three sheets to the wind right now. You imagine Joel would be pissed if he knew, and Ellie knows it because now she’s looking at you with trepidation.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say. “Where’d your friends go?”

Ellie shrugs, but her eyes go dark, focused on a spot over your shoulder. You turn and see a couple standing in the dark alley across the street. He’s leaning into her, and you can hear a faint giggle over the din of music coming from the cafeteria.

“Ohhh,” you say, beginning to put it together. “That’s…Jesse, right?”

She shoots you a look of contempt, absently picking at her lip, chewing the skin. “Dina…and Jesse.”

Oh. Dina.

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” you say carefully, leaning against the wall. “I used to hate it when people did that.”

She considers this, then leans forward, curious. “So…she your girlfriend or somethin’?”

No, but she’s convenient.

“Who, Theresa?” you say, trying to keep your voice light.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “No, Delores the lunch lady.”

You press your lips together, barely holding back a smile. You like this kid and her smart mouth, despite yourself. “Yeah…I guess you could say she’s my girlfriend.”

She looks like she’s chewing on this, so you add, “Never seen that before?”

“I knew girls who…y’know…when I was at FEDRA school. They usually got the shit kicked out of ‘em.”

“Kids can be cruel,” you murmur.

Ellie scoffs, kicking at the railing with her heel. “Wasn’t the kids we had to worry about.”

You wince. You couldn’t count the number of women who came to you–came for you–and went back to their shitty boyfriends for protection, or the number of times you were called a dyke when some asshole found out you weren’t going to fawn over them just because they had a dick.

“Yeah…well…some things haven’t changed, I guess,” you say. “But for what it’s worth…no one’s kicked the shit out of me yet. Not here, at least.”

She shrugs as if to say the point was moot, eyes drifting back to her friends.

“So…FEDRA school, huh? Was that in Boston? Your dad said you came here from the QZ last year.”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Ellie shrugs, then her eyes brighten. “Hey, did you find any more of those comic books?”

“Oh…I haven’t. But if I do, I’ll let you know.”

Her face falls, but then the door swings open beside you, and Theresa is calling your name.

“There you are,” she says. “You disappeared, I was worried.”

“I think I’m done for tonight, Thea.” The thought of stepping back into the mess hall makes your insides churn.

“Well, if you’re sure,” she frowns. “Mind if I stay a bit longer?”

You shake your head, forcing a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, babe,” she smiles, leaning in for a lingering kiss before ducking back into the building.

Ellie gives you a knowing little smirk when she’s gone.

“Well, she’s no Dolores,” you murmur, and the girl’s laugh is an unexpected balm.

#fanfic #the last of us hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #joel and ellie #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #fic recs #the last of us

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