#its sad joel hours

[ravensmadreads]

Do you think when joel beat that guard to death in the first ep with his bare fists and turned around after, he maybe expected to see Sarah standing there? Like he flashed back to the very first scene and was like: this is it. i did it. i saved her! ;only to see Ellie, and that's why he was so mad at ellie for so long because she was the daughter that he saved, only he didnt really want to save her, he wanted to save sarah. And every time he saved Ellie, he thought maybe this'll bring sarah back, and maybe this would, and maybe this will, until he died and he was like Oh. This will.

[mariatesstruther]

joel staying with his baby until her very last breath vs maria maybe not being able to do the same. whether she wasn’t with him because she couldn’t bear to see her baby like that or because she didn’t even know it was happening and was somewhere else—either way, she wasn’t there. she didn’t hold him. she didn’t get to tell him goodbye

[stylesispunk]

"You're the loss of my life"

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

part 2 here

summary: you and Joel went from one kiss to getting married to becoming strangers.

w.c: 5k>

Warnings: angst, implications of cheating, mentions miscarriage. Perhaps some grammar mistakes because no proofreading oops!

a/n: I know everything I write is angst but is what it fits in my mind right now. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

The day you killed yourself, you woke up. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why. 

You didn't want to talk, even less to answer the pitiful comments from people who thought they had a say on all this.

You remember the fall. You remember Joel running to Sophie to save her life instead of yours, instead of both. You and the baby who was inside you. The one who wasn't there anymore because of its tiny form didn't resist the impact of your fall.

What a tragedy.

Sadness overcame you in the aftermath. In a world like this, treating your wounded body wasn't as hard as treating your heart, which became a frozen glass shell.

The days that followed were a blur, each moment blending into the next, a never-ending cycle of grief and numbness. You avoided mirrors, hating the reflection of a person you no longer recognized. The hollow eyes, the lifeless expression—they belonged to a ghost, not to you.

Joel tried to talk to you, his words a constant hum in the background. "I'm sorry," he'd say. "I didn't know what to do." But his apologies were meaningless, lost in the chasm that had formed between you. He perhaps saved Sophie because he loved her more, because in that split second, she was the one who mattered.

Not you anymore.

You spent hours in the nursery, the room you had so carefully prepared. The crib, the tiny clothes, the stuffed animals—all mocking reminders of what could have been. Your hands would linger on the soft blankets, tears falling silently onto the fabric. It was in that room that you felt the closest to the baby you had lost—a place where the field of dreams you had died.

One night, as you sat in the dark, the pain was too much to bear, and you decided you couldn't go on. The world was too cruel, too indifferent to people's suffering. You wrote a letter, your final words, to those who might wonder why. It was brief—just a few sentences explaining the unbearable weight of your grief and the unending ache in your heart. Meeting your family and beloved ones in heaven sounded better than keeping yourself prisoner in a world that would never be a safe place for anyone.

You took the pills, each one a step closer to peace. As you drifted off, you felt a strange sense of calm, a release from the torment that had consumed you. You hoped that in death, you would find the solace that eluded you in life.

But then you woke up again. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why.

Waking up again felt like a cruel joke. You were back in the same world, with the same pain. But something was different. Joel was there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He took your hand, his touch hesitant and afraid.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered, his voice breaking.

You turned away, unable to meet his gaze. The wound was still too fresh, and the betrayal was still too raw to face them.

Joel's gaze burned in your back, and the smell of death was in the room. You held your breath for a moment. You wanted to smell the flowers and the baby smell of the little head of your baby, which you would never get to meet.

"Why?" he questioned, and for the first time, his voice did soothe your wounds; instead, it caused your blood to boil inside you and irritated you.

"I want Ellie here, not you."

"Baby- “

"Go." Your voice could slice Joel’s skin.

He recoiled as if struck, his face crumpling with pain. He stood there for a moment, looking lost and broken. "Please, don't push me away," he pleaded, but you couldn't hear him through the rage and grief that consumed you.

"Leave," you repeated, your voice cold and final.

Joel's shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating, a void that threatened to swallow you whole. You curled into a ball, the tears flowing freely now—a torrent of pain and loss.

“Go to Sophie,” you whispered to the void, allowing yourself to cry.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment; your sobs were the only sound in the quiet room. You didn't know how long you lay there, but eventually, you heard a soft knock on the door.

Ellie's voice was hesitant when she called out your name, filled with a mix of anger and concern. "Can I come in?"

You didn't answer, but she opened the door anyway, slipping inside and closing it behind her. She looked at you, her expression torn between fury and sadness.

"Why did you do it?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "Why did you try to leave me too?"

You looked up at her, seeing the pain in her eyes and mirroring your own. "I... I didn't think I could handle it anymore," you admitted, your voice breaking. "I lost everything, Ellie. I lost you, I lost Joel, and I lost the baby. I didn't know how to go on."

Ellie walked over to you, her steps hesitant. "You didn't lose me. I'm still here," she said, her voice softening. "But you almost did. And I'm so mad at Joel. He should have saved you both. He should have done more."

“Do you think Joel doesn’t love me anymore?” you sobbed.  The pain in your voice broke Ellie’s heart.

She kneeled beside you, taking your hands in hers. "I don’t know what’s on his mind now," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I do know he loves you. He's just... broken too. We're all broken."

You pulled her into a tight embrace, both of you crying together, sharing the weight of your grief. “I lost my baby because of him.”

Ellie held you tighter, her own tears mingling with yours. "Cry,” she said softly. "Blaming him won't bring the baby back. It won't help us heal. We have to find a way to forgive and move forward."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, finding strange solace in each other’s arms. The pain was still there, raw and overwhelming.

You were standing in the small kitchen of your home in Jackson, the dilapidated walls a far cry from the security of the life you once knew. But for a moment, you allowed yourself to dream of something better. Your hands trembled slightly as you held the small, worn piece of paper—a positive pregnancy test, a symbol of new life in a world consumed by death.

Joel walked in, weary from a long day of patrol. His eyes lit up when he saw you, but they quickly clouded with concern as he noticed the look on your face.

"What's going on?" he asked, setting down his backpack and walking over to you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Joel, I have something to tell you,” you began, your voice shaking. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, there was silence. Joel's expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then to something darker—fear and maybe even anger.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly. "In this world? How could you be so irresponsible?"

The words hit you like a physical blow, your earlier excitement and hope crumbling into dust. "Irresponsible?" you echoed, your own voice rising defensively. "It takes two people to do this, you know.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You know what it’s like out there! Every day is a fight for survival. We can barely keep ourselves alive, and now you want to bring a baby into this?”

“I know this is not the best way, but what do you want me to do?” 

“You know what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought them back, unwilling to show weakness at his suggestion. "I know it's dangerous, Joel. But it's also a chance for us to have a future. To have a reason to keep going."

Joel's face softened for a moment, but then the hard lines returned. "And what if we can't protect it? What if we lose it? Bringing a baby into this world... it's a death sentence."

You turned away, unable to look at him. "I thought you'd be happy," you whispered, the tears finally spilling over. "I thought this would be something good for us."

He reached out, but you stepped back, the distance between you growing. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now, but the damage was done. "I just... I can't see how this can work."

You clutched the pregnancy test to your chest, tainted by doubt and fear. “Are you mad because of the baby, or what would Sophie think of this?" you questioned quietly.

Joel's expression faltered, and he looked away, unable to meet your gaze. The mention of Sophie seemed to strike a chord, bringing a new layer of tension to the room.

"Sophie has nothing to do with this," he muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

"Doesn't she?" You pressed, your voice rising. "She's always in the back of your mind, Joel. Every decision you make, every risk you take, it's always about protecting her."

"She's my partner in patrol,” he shot back, his voice growing louder. "I’m just as protective as I am with everyone here! I can't fail her, or you. But this world... it's no place for a child."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know you're scared, Joel. So am I. But we can't live our lives in fear. This baby is a chance for us to have something real, something good. Don't you see that?"

Joel's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "I do see it," he admitted quietly. "But it doesn't change the reality we live in. I just... I don't know if I can take that risk."

The room fell silent, the tension hanging thick in the air. You turned away from him, your heart heavy with a mixture of hope and despair. "I'm going to do everything I can to protect this baby," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "With or without you."

Joel looked at you, pain and conflict warring in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it, shaking his head. He turned and walked out, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen, your heart breaking as the small symbol of hope in your hand seemed to grow heavier by the second.

The “I do” and vows seemed so foreign in the back of your mind now.

A week had passed since your almost-death. The days were a blur of grief and small steps toward recovery. Ellie remained close; her presence was a constant reminder that there was still something worth fighting for. In your head, you felt guilt and pity, not strong enough to keep believing you were the same woman who arrived here. You were the gosh of a lively fighter who became a lifeless frame.

Maria approached you in the cafeteria, where you were trying to busy yourself. She had always been a pillar of strength in Jackson and a calming presence for you since the day you, Joel, and Ellie arrived.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice gentle. "How are you holding up?"

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down. Maria sighed, pulling up a chair beside you. "I know it's hard. But you need to take things slow. You can't rush healing."

You nodded, though her words felt distant. The weight of your grief was a constant presence, making everything seem surreal. "I just... I don't know how to keep going. I don’t know how to do this again," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as Sarah’s lifeless frame came to your mind.

You had lost another child.

Maria reached out, squeezing your hand. "One day at a time," she said. "And remember, it's okay to lean on others. You don't have to do this alone."

You wanted to believe her, but the pain was too fresh and overwhelming. As the days turned into a week, you forced yourself to go through the motions, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. One afternoon, you found yourself in the cafeteria of Jackson. The noise and bustle were a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.

Maria was there, talking to a few people, and she caught your eye, giving you an encouraging smile. You tried to smile back, but it felt forced. The weight of your loss was a constant shadow, making everything seem heavier.

As you moved through the line, Maria came over, her expression concerned. "Hey, remember what I said. Take it slow. You don't have to do everything at once."

Something inside you snapped. The pressure, the grief, the guilt—it all came crashing down. "Take it slow?" you repeated, your voice rising. "How am I supposed to take it slow when everything is falling apart? How am I supposed to keep going when I not only lost my baby but also my husband?!”

The cafeteria fell silent, all eyes turning towards you. You could feel the weight of their stares, the shock, and the pity. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as the enormity of your outburst sank in.

Maria reached out, but you recoiled, your emotions spiraling out of control. "I don't need to take it slow!" you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "I need... I need..." You didn't even know what you needed; the pain was too overwhelming to articulate.

Joel was there in an instant, his face etched with worry. "Hey, hey," he said softly, reaching out to you. "It's okay. You're okay."

But you weren't okay. You felt like you were drowning, the weight of your grief pulling you under. You shook your head, backing away from him. "Don't touch me for fuck's sake! I don't want your dirty hands on me!”

Joel’s eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the best of the man you had married ten years ago.

Joel's eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the ghost of the man you had married ten years ago.

He froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. The cafeteria's silence deepened, the tension thickening. You saw the pain in his eyes, a reflection of your own turmoil, but it did nothing to quell the anger and sorrow boiling inside you.

"I can't do this," you said, your voice breaking as you took a step back, your chest heaving with sobs. "I can't keep pretending that everything is going to be okay. Because it's not! Nothing is okay!"

Ellie pushed through the crowd, her face pale but determined. "Mom," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "We're here. We're all here. We'll get through this."

Joel looked helplessly at Ellie, then back at you. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Just let us help."

You looked at him, the man who had once been your rock, now just a shadow of the person you had relied on. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, but Ellie’s presence brought a flicker of something else—a reminder of why you needed to keep fighting.

Ellie wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as you sobbed into her shoulder. The room remained silent; the weight of your grief was palpable. But in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope—a reminder that you weren’t alone and that you had people who loved you and who were willing to help you carry the burden.

Joel stepped closer, his hand hovering uncertainly at your back, not daring to touch you without permission. "I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "For everything. I’m so, so sorry."

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You killed him," you snapped, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I can’t forgive you.”

Joel's face crumpled, the weight of your words hitting him like a physical blow. He took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. The silence in the room grew heavier, and the tension was palpable.

"I know," he said, his voice barely audible. "I know I can never undo what I've done. I live with that guilt every day."

Your anger burned hot and fierce, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. "You killed him," you repeated, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "And you expect me to just forgive you? To move on like nothing happened?"

Joel shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. "No," he said softly. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't even know if I can forgive myself. But I want to try. I want to make things right as much as I can."

You looked at him, the man who had once been your partner, your confidant, now a stranger in the wreckage of your shattered life. The anger still burned hot within you, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else—pain, sorrow, and a desperate longing for the life you had lost.

"I don't know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know if I have the strength to forgive you."

Ellie's arms remained wrapped around you, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil. She gently guided you away from the cafeteria, her touch reassuring as you stumbled through the hallways of Jackson. The weight of your grief felt heavier with each step, but Ellie's presence gave you a glimmer of strength.

As you reached the door, Ellie helped you inside, guiding you to the small couch in the living area. She sat beside you, her eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice filled with worry.

You shook your head, the tears still streaming down your face. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice hoarse. "I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."

Ellie reached out, taking your hand in hers. "We'll figure it out together," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I promise."

You squeezed her hand tightly, grateful for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

She leaned in, wrapping you in a tight hug. "I love you, Mom," she said softly. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you hugged her back, her words echoing in your mind. "I love you too, Ellie," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

As you and Ellie held each other close, the weight of her love and support was a balm to your wounded soul. But amidst the embrace, a knock on the door interrupted the moment, causing both of you to startle.

Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours with concern. "Should I... Should I get that?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

You shook your head, wiping away your tears as you tried to compose yourself. "No, it's okay," you said, your voice still shaky. "I'll go."

Ellie nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before standing up from the couch. "I'll be in my room if you need me," she said softly, giving you a lingering look before leaving the living area.

As Ellie disappeared down the hallway, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. With trembling hands, you made your way to the door and opened it, revealing Joel standing on the other side.

His expression was a mix of worry and remorse as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a silent plea for forgiveness. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, the memories of your outburst in the cafeteria still fresh in your mind. But despite the anger and pain, there was a part of you that longed for closure, for a chance to understand.

"Okay," you said finally, stepping aside to let him in.

Joel entered the house, his footsteps hesitant as he crossed the threshold. The living room felt suffocatingly small as you both stood there, the weight of your shared grief hanging heavy in the air.

"I... I don't even know where to start," Joel said, his voice strained with emotion.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "I just... I need to understand," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I need to know why you did what you did."

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the abandoned streets of the city. You and Joel had been scavenging for supplies, your footsteps echoing in the eerie silence that seemed to permeate every corner of the world.

You had felt uneasy all day, a knot of jealousy and insecurity twisting in your stomach at the sight of Sophie, her laughter ringing in your ears like a taunt.

You had implored Joel to come. You just wanted to feel as worthy and important to him as you used to, even in your state. But despite your misgivings, you had pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand, determined to prove yourself capable and worthy of Joel's love and attention.

And then it happened.

If Joel had been more careful, he wouldn’t have allowed you to come. But he didn’t want to make you feel worthless.

A horde of infected had descended upon you, their snarls and growls a chilling symphony of death and despair. You had frozen; your mind was unable to comprehend the danger until it was too late.

But Joel had acted, his movements swift and sure as he pulled you away from the oncoming onslaught, his grip firm and unyielding.

And then he had seen her.

Sophie was trapped beneath the rubble, her screams echoing in the chaos as the infected closed in, their hunger insatiable.

And in that moment, something inside Joel shifted.

He had hesitated, torn between saving you and saving her, his eyes flickering with indecision, before he made his choice.

He had chosen Sophie.

He jumped off the horse, leaving you alone. You had watched in horror as he raced towards her, leaving you behind, your heart shattering into a million jagged pieces as the truth of his betrayal washed over you like a tidal wave.

You had screamed, your voice lost in the cacophony of the chaos, your tears mingling with the blood and dust that coated your skin.

And then the world went dark.

You fell from the horse, hitting the cobblestones hard. The pain was sharp and intense, searing through your body like a white-hot flame. You could hear the distant sound of screams and growls, the world around you spinning in a haze of confusion and agony.

Through the haze, you could dimly make out Joel's voice, calling out your name in desperation. But his words felt distant, a mere echo in the darkness that threatened to consume you.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos subsided, leaving behind a heavy silence that pressed down on you like a weight. You tried to move, to call out, but your body felt numb and unresponsive. Your world went black.

"I need to know why, Joel," you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you choose her over us? Why did you leave me behind?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you waited for his answer, the weight of his betrayal still fresh in your mind, a wound that refused to heal.

Joel's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his guilt. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I panicked. I made a mistake."

Anger surged within you at his words, a fiery rage that threatened to consume you. "A mistake?" you repeated, your voice rising with indignation. "You left me to die, Joel. You left our child to die. How could you call that a mistake?"

Joel flinched at your words, the pain in his eyes mirroring your own. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry. You were my wife; I should.”

"Were you my wife?” You sobbed, “Since when is that in the past, Joel?”

Joel's words hung in the air like a heavy weight, his admission of guilt and regret piercing through the veil of anger and pain that enveloped you. But amidst the turmoil, there was a flicker of something else—a longing for understanding, for closure, for a chance to heal.

"You are my wife," Joel repeated clearly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you. But I failed. I failed both of you."

His words stirred something deep within you—a wellspring of grief and longing that threatened to overwhelm you. "And now?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "What am I to you, Joel?"

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow. Not uttering a word.

“Do you have feelings for Sophie?” You asked, fear creeping to your bones, not wanting to hear the answer.

Joel's silence spoke volumes; his hesitation was a weighty presence in the air between you. You held your breath, afraid of what his answer might be and of the truth that lay hidden in the depths of his gaze.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Joel spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his words heavy with uncertainty. "

“You love her,” you stated. “That’s why you chose her.”

Joel's silence in response to your accusation only confirmed your worst fears, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a heavy ache in your chest. The truth hung in the air, stark and undeniable, like a shadow cast by the setting sun.

Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to process the betrayal, the pain of Joel's admission cutting through you like a knife. The realization that he might love Sophie and might have chosen her over you and your unborn child was a blow that threatened to shatter you completely.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice barely more than a broken plea. "I can't stay here, knowing... knowing that I'll never be enough for you. Living in a world like this is already hell, but you made it even worse. You made me feel disgusted by myself, worthless, and ashamed," you shouted. "You're a fucking coward."

Joel flinched at your words, the truth of your accusations cutting through him like a knife. For a moment, it seemed as though he might speak, might try to defend himself, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Hate me; I'll wait. Until you forgive," he finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to find the words to express the depth of your pain. "Forgive you?" you chuckled bitterly. "I won't."

There are two types of grievances. The one who met the spirits in death and the one who met with the ghosts of someone who should have died in front of you. You still couldn't comprehend which one was worse. Both were painful, and both watered your eyes. But having the ghost of someone who brought you warm, freezing your aura while slipping from your grasp, leaving you crying to yourself till your head tired up and there wasn't anything left that fell into the voiceless world of sleeping, where in your dreams, you were still the same woman in the white dress, marrying the love of your life.

"I needed my husband! I need him now! And the worst thing is, I still need you, but you're just a fucking phantom."

"I'm still here," he exclaimed.

"No, you're not.".

"It wasn't even born!" Joel said.

The silence met souls leaving the lovers's bodies.

You were left speechless, tears ricocheting. Your heart was clenched in pain, and your throat felt like it was being torn apart by a monster.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," you spat. You were exhausted, and your heart hurt so much that you couldn't even feel it beating anymore. "Sorry if grieving my baby was such a burden to you."

As you turned back to face Joel, the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the gaping chasm of loss that lay between you.

"Let me remind you of something, Joel," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Losing Sarah was the worst thing that happened to us, and just imagine how it is for me to know I carried her and this baby just to lose them both."

Joel's expression softened, a flicker of remorse crossing his features as he looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I know," he said softly, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"I'll move out," Joel said suddenly, his voice tinged with resignation. "So you can bring your new lover here and make all the babies you want."

His words cut through you like a knife, a painful reminder of the irreparable rift that had formed between you. "You know what really broke me?" you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "You... you're the biggest loss of my life, but as much as I love you, I despise you the same. You're the loss of my life I will be yours. There's no way back from this, Joel."

As the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, you reached for the wedding band adorning your finger, a symbol of a love that had once been unbreakable but now lay shattered at your feet.

With trembling hands, you removed the ring, feeling its weight in your palm as you stared at it, the memories of happier times flashing before your eyes like a cruel mockery of the present.

Without a second thought, you flung the ring towards Joel, watching as it spun through the air before landing at his feet with a soft thud.

"There," you said, your voice choked with emotion. "Take it. Take everything that remains of us."

Joel looked down at the ring, his expression unreadable as he reached out to pick it up and his fingers trembling as he held it in his palm.

"I don't want this," he whispered, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

But you shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you stared at him, the pain of his betrayal a raw wound that refused to heal. "I don't want it either," you said, your voice barely more than a broken whisper. "But it's all we have left."

And with that, you turned away, unable to bear the weight of his presence any longer. The wounds he had inflicted upon you ran deep, a festering wound that refused to heal.

[strifetxt]

My Stupidest Intro Yet! | Hermitcraft 10 read on ao3

This is a story about love. About drama. About murder. About being really tall and handsome. A story about clicking the subscribe button. But mostly, it's a story about Joel. (written for @extremetimedchallengeexchange)

The scene opens on Hermitcraft Season Ten. We see the wide expanse of Magic Mountain, and the glittering cyberpunk city that rises from its face. As we zoom in closer, he comes into view: our very tall, very handsome, very talented protagonist.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Oh, [FAMILY FRIENDLY CENSOR] off. Let a man take a break, would you!

The audience may note that it’s been nearly a week since our protagonist’s last video went out, and that Editor Joel has bills to pay.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Look, I worked hard on that last recording! Do you see the size of that skyscraper? It’s the biggest thing I’ve built all season, and gathering all those materials took blummin’ ages. Can’t you bother some other Joel for a change?

Tragically, there are no other active Joels at the moment, so Hermit Joel will have to pick up the slack.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: What?! There’s no way that’s true. Oi, other Joels, what are you lot all doing?

GOD JOEL: Don’t look at me. My series ended ages ago, remember? Some Lore™ happened and I ascended to heaven to be tall and sexy for eternity.

KING JOEL: Same here. Season over. Definitely wasn’t because of anything bad happening though.

GOD JOEL: You literally got so sad you died.

KING JOEL: Hey, I wasn’t the one who made that canon. You did that.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Okay, I get that neither of the Empires Joels are available, but surely there’s someone else. How about SOS Joel? He's been active at the same time as me, right?

SOS JOEL: Oh, did you not hear? I blew up.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: What? You had such an easy job, you were just there to do challenges and goof around! You barely even had to do any building! What do you mean you blew up?

SOS JOEL: Look, the server was going to be ending soon anyway, so I figured, may as well go out with a bang. And boy, did we! Took out nearly the entire rest of the server too; I still don’t know how they managed to get the coins to bring all those people back.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Okay, fine. How about you, Life Series Joel? Surely it’s about time for you to have a go?

LIFE SERIES JOEL: Nope. Grian says he’s still working on it.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Ugh. Well, when you get there, can you try to at least make it to the finale again? Give the people some more content, come on, seriously.

LIFE SERIES JOEL: I don’t care how far I get as long as I can finally outlive Scott.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Fine, whatever. What other Joels are there?

Look, you’re just going to have to face the facts. You’re the only Joel active right now, which means you have a video to record. Do you want the Joel who tells people to subscribe to starve?

JOEL WHO TELLS PEOPLE TO SUBSCRIBE: [sniffles] Please subscribe?

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Oh, god, don’t cry, Joel who tells people to subscribe. I promise I’ll get to it, but— Listen, it’s a lot of pressure, being the main Joel! Surely there’s gotta be one other Joel out there with an active series.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Wait a second...

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Where’s Hardcore Joel?

Er, sorry, don’t know who you’re talking about. You mean 100 Hours Hardcore Joel?

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: No, not blummin’ 100 Hours Joel, I know he’s dead. I mean singleplayer Hardcore Joel. Remember? Over two thousand day world? That huge End Island transformation? That Joel?

Riiiiiiight. Um. Yeah, he’s not here.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: What do you mean he’s not here?

Listen, it’s not my fault. You’re going to have to talk to Editor Joel about that one.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Aren’t you Editor Joel?

God, no. Could you imagine, me being that idiot?

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Well, then, who the heck are you?

I’m just the Joel who’s narrating this scene.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Whatever, just get me Editor Joel on the line. I demand to know where Hardcore Joel’s gone!

Time freezes, as it is wont to do while Editor Joel speaks.

EDITOR JOEL: Editor Joel here. I can’t believe these idiots have made me step in. I know what you all think of me, but I do have a life, you know. I had a lovely day hanging with Oli just now, in fact. We went to a nice cafe. But no, none of that matters because I have to fix all the other Joels’ stupid problems before they’ll record any footage. Whatever, they can’t hear me since I’m speaking from the future. I’ll just put Hardcore Joel in and let him explain himself so I can go spend time with my wife.

Time resumes, and Hardcore Joel appears.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Wow, thanks, Editor Joel, I’m sure whatever you said was really stupid and useless like it always is. Anyway, hi, Hardcore Joel. Fancy seeing you here.

HARDCORE JOEL: Oh, yeah? I’m sure it is, since you basically killed me.

There’s a murmur of ‘oooh’s from the other Joels present.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: What do you mean I killed you? You never died! You left off your last video saying you were going to be doing another huge project and then just disappeared!

HARDCORE JOEL: Yeah, I did. Because you know what happened the next month? Yeah. You were born.

The other Joels gasp dramatically in shock.

HARDCORE JOEL: That’s right. As soon as you started Hermitcraft, there was no more time for me. I mean, do you have any idea how long it takes me to record a video? The last one wasn’t even a major project, and it still took more than 150 Minecraft days over the course of, like, weeks! And I had to keep stopping in the middle to AFK at my own farms that I built, and gather my own materials by hand! You have no idea how easy you have it with your stupid shopping district—

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Hey now, the shopping district only helps when people stock their blummin’ shops. Also, I’m poor. Do you even have a concept of being poor without an economy?

HARDCORE JOEL: [shakes his head] Look, I’m not trying to fight here. The point is, your whole existence basically took me out of the game. You can’t afford to disappear from Hermitcraft for weeks at a time just so I can grind out some ridiculous megastructure in a single episode. You get way more views by doing way less. That’s just numbers, baby. In fact, with how long Hermitcraft runs, you might just have to be the main Joel for a long, long time.

There’s a moment of silence as the Joels contemplate this harsh reality.

HARDCORE JOEL: Shut up, Narrator Joel. God, you’re almost as bad as Editor Joel.

[muffled grumbling]

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: But...surely there’s room for more Joels somewhere, right? I can’t be the only Joel forever!

LIFE SERIES JOEL: Hey, man, don’t worry. I’ll still pop up from time to time, as long as Grian keeps making games.

GUESS THE BUILD JOEL: I might get to make a video here and there!

KING JOEL: My series might be over, but I’m still around, one way or another. They even put me on a TCG card!

GOD JOEL: I’m still incredibly sexy.

MCC JOEL: I’ll be even stronger once we finally replace our Starlink Internet!

HARDCORE JOEL: I know I said you killed me, but really, it’s not so bad not being an active Joel anymore. And who knows, maybe if the inspiration hits just right, and we get some time here and there to chip away at it, I might come back now and again.

And so, Joel of Hermitcraft learned that even if he might be the only Joel currently making videos, he would always be supported by every Joel that came before him.

JOEL OF HERMITCRAFT: Aww, thanks, guys. You’re the best Joels a Joel could ask for. Especially you, Joel who tells people to subscribe!

JOEL WHO TELLS PEOPLE TO SUBSCRIBE: Subscribe!

[romanarose]

Something that kills me about TLOU is the before. In a lot of these types of shows and movies and games, the before; before the outbreak, the death, the world ending, whatever it is, is usually showing how wonderful things are, how unequivocally good it is.

But things are not going great for Joel.

Theres lots of good, yes. He loves his brother, but he's kinda immature. When Tommy calls about the fight, its implied he gets into trouble sometimes, this has to be stressful for Joel. He's at a bar, and i can't rememeber if its a weekday or not, but if you're getting in bar fights when you're drinking, generally its indicative of a problem (also yes I know Tommy was in the right on outbreak day, but the implication is that he isnt always.)

Sarah is his entire world and he's a good dad, but he's not exactly killing it. He's struggling. Financially, yes, but he's not out there hitting all the marks with Sarah either. I get the feeling his job can make it hard to go to all of Sarah's games, hard to be present even when he's there. He's tired. Sarah is stressed too, we can see it. She even looks a little sad sometimes.

None of this makes Joel a bad brother or dad. It's just that life isn't perfect

So why does this make me so sad?

Joel will always be thinking of everything he did wrong for her. He will be thinking how he missed that parent-teacher confrence. How he was in so much pain on his birthday Tommy took over doing the fun stuff. How he falls asleep at every movie she wants to show him. He's sitting in the regret of not only her death, but her life.

How could he have taken that extra job? That was 10 extra hours he could have spent with her. He should have stayed awake longer, gotten that extra 20 minutes. Why didn't he let her stay up late? Had a few more hours. He'd be thinking about the wasted time, the ways he could've been better, done more, even though he was a single dad just trying to give his baby girl the best he could

he'd always think it's not good enough.

[dancingtotuyo]

Part II

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: The weight of your husband being in jail starts to take its toll.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: prison, visitation, family stress, lots of tears

Notes: Shout out to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading this and helping out with the details! Also shoutout to @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 3310

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

You inhale deeply as you sit at the metal picnic table. Nathaniel bounces contently on your lap, taking in his surroundings. Families gather at each table, a low rumble filling the room. You glance down at your watch. The inmates are due any second, and Joel is supposed to be here too. Your eyes dart around the room at the families in the same boat as you. They all look a little different, consisting of different family components, but the same thing brought you all here. 

Joel rushes in, the summer heat and job site filth evident on his skin and clothes. You wave him over to your corner table, feeling more relaxed to have him here. You’ve been able to talk to Tommy for an hour every week, but this is the first time you’ve gotten to see him since his sentencing.

“Hey,” Joel says, breathless as he slides in next to you. Nathaniel lets out an exuberant greeting, hands banging against the table. Joel chuckles. “Hello to you too, bud.” 

“I thought you might not make it.”

“Cement guys were late.” Joel sighs, trying to brush the dirt from his shirt.

“Typical.” You mummer, earning a small chuckle from Joel. 

“You good?” Joel places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m excited to see him.” You smile, kissing Nathaniel’s head. 

A couple guards file in to stand watch. Then, a loud buzzing rings, and the other door opens. It feels cliche, like one of those law procedural shows on TV. The room goes silent as men in orange jumpsuits file in, hands cuffed in front of them. Their eyes scan the crowd for their loved ones. Slowly, the volume rises as families reunite. Tommy is one of the last ones through the door, but the moment your eyes land on him, you feel tension ease from your body. 

You stand, waving to him. His eyes finally land on you, lifting with a happiness you haven’t seen in a while. He has a cut over his eyebrow. It looks a couple days old by now, a faint bruise still visible around it. 

You’re allowed a brief hug. Nothing long enough to transfer forbidden items is the idea, not that you could’ve gotten anything in here with the security patting you down how they did. 

He melts into your soft touch just a little like he did when he’d come back from his second tour. “Hey, Baby.” He smiles into your cheek, his lips skim your cheek as you pull away to avoid being yelled out. 

Joel hugs him next with a big pat on the back. You can hardly keep your eyes off him, your hand drifting absentmindedly to Nathaniel’s shoulders. Your two-year-old stares at his father with a sense of familiarity. He looks up at you and then back to Tommy. “Daddy!”

Tommy’s head snaps over, smile instantly falling from his face. “What’s he doing here?”

“Tommy…”

“I told you not to bring him.” He snaps.

“He’s your son.”

“This ain’t no place for a child!” Tommy says. “You don’t see Joel bringing Sarah for a visit, now do you?”

“Sarah,” you say, pulling at all your self-restraint. “Had soccer camp today but she said to tell you hi. She was sad she couldn’t come.”

“I want you to get him out of here. Now.” Tommy insists, not backing down. 

“Tommy-“ Joel tries to quell his brother’s rising temper.

“Is this really how you want to spend visitation? Fussing at me for bringing our son to see his father?”

“Get. Him. Out!” Tommy says, smoke blowing from his ears. One of the prison guards starts toward your group. 

Tommy holds up his cuffed hands in silent surrender. The guard backs up with a warning glare. 

“I don’t want him here,” Tommy says. “I made that clear.”

Confusion skirts your brow. Your Tommy, the one you know and love seems to be at war with the person he’s become during his short time behind bars. 

“I’ll take him out,” Joel says, reaching out for Nathaniel. He accepts, sitting comfortably on his uncle’s hip. Joel pauses, giving Tommy a chance to change his mind, but he looks away. 

You bite your lip. Joel sighs. “I parked next to you.”

You nod as he walks out with your son. Tommy sits down at the table. You sit across from him, mouth drawn in a tight line. 

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

“He shouldn’t see me like this. You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“You fucked up, Tommy, but we’re still here. You really want to go two years without seeing your kid?”

“It’s not like he’ll remember,” Tommy says. You sigh in exasperation. A faint smile finds its way onto his lips. “It’s almost like old times. You upset with me.”

You choke out a humorless laugh. “This is nothing like old times.”

“No… I guess it’s not.” He sobers up. 

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Do you really not want him to come see you?”

Tommy nods, stuck in his resolve. “Don’t really want you here either.” A sly smile crosses Tommy’s face as he runs a finger over your knuckle without being caught. “Don’t like these other guys checking out my woman.”

You roll your eyes, helplessly falling for his flirting. “How progressive of you.”

You step into the Texas sun twenty minutes later, slipping your sunglasses over your eyes. You walk across the parking lot, following Nathaniel’s empty chatter to Joel’s pickup. Nathaniel busies himself in the back while Joel rests his forearms on the edge. You come up beside him, copying his stance. Nathaniel doesn’t notice you, too engrossed by the plethora of less-than-safe tools and scraps in the back of Uncle Joel’s truck. Your elbow touches Joel’s, the metal hot under your arms.

“Thanks for taking him.”

Joel nods. “Tommy really doesn’t want him to visit?”

“Nope.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He’s your brother.”

“You married him.” 

You let out a little huff of laughter, a half smile gracing your face, spreading to Joel’s. His deep laughter fills your body. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Any regrets?” Joel kids, turning his head to you. 

You laugh. “Never. I don’t live with regrets, Miller.” You nudge him with your shoulder, tapping the side of the truck. “Nate, it’s time to go. We have Sarah’s exhibition game.”

Your toddler turns around, hammer clutched in his hands. “Play!”

“Come on, kiddo. You can play with my tools another day. I got a whole garage full of ‘em,” Joel chuckles.  

Nathaniel seems to contemplate the words for a minute before letting the hammer clatter to the bed of the truck. You cringe at the sound before your son reaches for you. Joel chuckles, making sure his items are secure as you pull Nathaniel into your arms. 

“You don’t have to go, you know. Today has been a lot.”

“Of course, I’m gonna go, Joel. It’s Sarah.”

He smiles, knowing your role in her life goes above and beyond the duties of an aunt, but not knowing how to communicate his gratitude for it. “Save me a spot? I have to run back by the job site. I should make it for the second half.” 

You can see him cringe as he says the words. You know he feels guilty about it. Sarah’s been talking about this since the start of soccer camp. “Of course.”

Sarah clocks Joel the moment he walks into the building, her attention is no longer on the coach who’s giving a mid-game pep talk, but on her father across the field. Joel shoots her two thumbs up and a massive grin before directing her attention back to her coach. 

Joel slides onto the cool metal bleacher beside you, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank god this thing is indoors this year.”

You nod remembering the blaring sun and burning metal bleachers from last year’s camp exhibition game. Your eyes narrow over Joel’s appearance. He seems even dirtier than he did an hour ago. “You take a dirt bath at the job site or something?” You reach over, patting some of the dirt from his shoulder. 

“Something like that.” Joel chuckles. 

Your thumb swipes away a smudge along his jaw. His jaw twitches under your touch. He playfully swats away your hand, capturing it with his own. “That tickles.”

“You’re filthy.” 

“I didn’t really have time to shower on my way here.” He bumps against you lightly. 

“Hence the dirt bath?” You grin, returning the bump, but this time your shoulder and thighs remain pressed against the other’s. His hand falls to your bare knee, hanging off of it. As the second half starts, Nathaniel climbs into your lap, eyes fluttering toward sleep.

For all the cheering you can’t do, Joel makes up for it, spending much of the game on his feet. It might only be an exhibition game and there might not be an official score, but it’s glaringly obvious that Sarah’s team is dominating with Sarah scoring two goals of her own. Joel is beaming. 

“She looks amazing out there.” He says.

“She really does.”

“And she’s having a blast. Look at that smile.” Joel’s smile is just as big as his daughter’s, big enough to push away your own struggles of the day. 

Sarah makes a break for the three of you as soon as she's dismissed. She drips with sweat, but her smile never fades as she goes on about every thought that went through her mind throughout the game and Joel hangs on every word. 

Once Nathaniel rouses from his sleepy daze, he ropes Sarah into kicking the soccer ball around. Joel joins them on the field while you watch, your body coming down from the emotions of the day. 

“Mrs. Miller?”

Your head snaps around. A woman about your age dressed in athletic wear smiles at you. You’re pretty sure she was one of the coaches. 

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Coach Miranda. I lead Sarah’s unit this week.” She stretches out her hand. 

You shake it, supplying your first name in return. “Nice to meet you. I know Sarah had a blast this week.” 

“I enjoyed having her,” Coach Miranda says. “She’s a talented soccer player.”

You smile, pride swelling in your chest. She’s not your kid, but that parental feeling toward her is very much there. “She learned so much. Her dad and I were talking during the game about how much she’s improved this week.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” The coach rocks on her feet, briefly considering her words. “Look, I coach one of the travel teams in the area.” She hands you a brochure. “I know she’s still a couple years away from being old enough, but we put on a few camps and clinics throughout the year for kids her age.”

You flip through the brochure of information. “These look very… fancy.”

“We offer scholarships if money is your worry.”

“No- I mean, it’s pricey but… She’s six.” You finally manage something coherent. “She just turned six. It seems early to start anything this serious.”

“Your daughter is very talented, Mrs. Miller.”

“Oh- I-” You stumble over your words.

“Is everything okay?” Joel asks, joining you with Nathaniel on his hip.

“I was just telling your wife how talented Sarah is.”

“We’re not married.” You blurt out unceremoniously, face feeling flush. There were smoother ways to navigate this and you are missing each one. 

The coach’s face flashes with confusion and embarrassment. “Oh- I’m sorry. I just assumed when I said Mrs. Miller…”

“I am,” You feel more flustered than is needed. Nathaniel reaches for you and you take him from Joel. “I’m not his Mrs. Miller. I mean-”

“She’s my sister-in-law.” Joel finishes for you and you sigh in relief. “Helps me out a lot.”

Coach Miranda nods, a slight red tinge to her cheeks from the embarrassment. “Got it,” she says, holding awkwardness in her frame.

“It’s okay,” you assure her. “I’ll let him know.” 

She nods, excusing herself quickly. 

“That was odd,” Joel says.

“Being mistaken for your wife? Or her behavior?”

“Her. The wife thing I understand.” Joel shrugs. “Guess she was embarrassed.”

 “The wife thing you understand, huh?” You cross your arms, smiling pushing on your lips. “I’m sure your brother would love to hear that.”

Joel shakes his head. “Don’t think he’s interested in anything I have to say after today.”

You roll your eyes, not wanting to relive the day's earlier events. “Here.” You hand him the brochure. “Apparently the coach thinks Sarah should sign up for more camps.”

“These are pricey for a six-year-old.”

“That’s what I said. She just kept saying how good Sarah is.”

“Course she did. She was the best one out there.” Joel smiles proudly. He tucks the brochure into his back pocket without another thought. “The princess wants pizza tonight. Your little troublemaker agreed.”

“Wow, you gonna start blaming everything on my kid now, Miller?” You laugh.

“If the shoes fits.”

“Ironic considering you called Sarah the princess.” 

Joel rolls his eyes, waving the kids over. “I’ll pick it up on our way home. Your place or mine?”

“Yours works. I’m sure Sarah needs a shower.” 

“Works for me,” Joel grins. 

Nathaniel jumps into your arms. Joel takes your purse and Sarah’s duffle and the four of you walk out hand in hand, looking very much like the family Sarah’s coach assumed you were. 

Two Years Later

You’re two years into it, obeying the strict dress code, getting pat down by security guards, and brief touches and chaste kisses with your husband. You typically go alone, leaving Nathaniel with Joel or a sitter. Joel comes sometimes. Usually, he visits Tommy on his own time. 

The visits have gotten shorter, more curt. Tommy has been more irritable. You chalk it up to being stuck in prison, but this most recent visit leaves your emotions fried. Tommy barely looked at you, hardly strung together more than a sentence or single-word response. He didn’t flirt with you, his signature grin nowhere to be seen.

You press your back to the back door as it shuts behind you. Squeezing your eyes tight, you do your best to will away the tears you shed on the drive home. 

“That you, Darlin?” Joel calls, rattling around in your kitchen. “I was just about to put the steaks on the grill.” 

You hear Nathaniel playing in the living room. You catch a sliver of Sarah’s ponytail, back hunched over the table presumably doing homework. You take a steadying breath, but your diaphragm shakes. 

When you don’t respond, Joel peaks around the corner. His brow furrows as he takes in your defeated frame. 

“Sarah,” he calls out. Your eyes open at his strong voice, locking eyes with him. “Keep an eye on Nathaniel for me. I need to go out to the garage for a couple minutes.”

“Okay.” She says, none the wiser to your appearance.

Joel takes your hand, tugging you forward just enough to get the door open before he propels you back into the garage. Your body feels like a limp noodle, helpless to do anything but let him lead you. 

The door clicks shut. He cups your cheeks. His soft brown eyes laced with concern meet yours. 

Your body eases into him, desperate and touch starved as you grab ahold of his soft shirt. Shaking your head, your whole body begins to tremble. Tears fall down your cheeks. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” It’s a stupid thing to say and he knows it. 

“No it’s not!” You shout. “My life’s a mess! It’s all a mess.” You devolve into a puddle of indistinguishable words and sounds. 

Joel pulls you into his chest, supporting your weight as your knees threaten to crumble beneath you. “Shhh, I’ve got you.”

If he’s being honest, Joel isn’t surprised by the breakdown. He constantly watches as you try to hold it all together. He’s visited Tommy too. He’s seen the impact of prison and self-loathing on his younger brother. 

His hand slides behind your neck, cool against your overheating flesh. His fingers play at the nape of your neck, soothing you as you soak his shirt. It’s an event the two of you have become overly familiar with. Joel’s arms represent stability in your unstable world.

Slowly, the tears dry and your chest stops shaking. Joel presses a long, firm kiss on your forehead. With one final deep breath, your heart rate returns to normal and you’re able to slowly pull yourself away from your brother-in-law. 

He gives you a smile, brushing away your tears. Wiping your nose on the back of your sleeve, you manage a weak laugh. “I’ve been kind of a mess lately.”

“You?” Joel quirks a smile. “I haven’t noticed.”

A laugh clears your throat. “Thank you for everything.”

Joel shrugs. “It’s what you do for family, and ours is going through a lot right now.”

You nod, smiling through bloodshot eyes. “I really do appreciate you, Joel. I don’t think I could do this without you.”

Joel reaches out, fixing the sleeve on your shoulder. His fingers drift over your soft collar bone not enough for you to notice, but long enough for him to memorize the feel of it. 

“Don’t think I could either, Darlin.” Joel forces a smile, masking his true feelings. 

He doesn’t say how mad it makes him that Tommy has put you through this, or that you deserve better, or even hint that he would support you leaving his little brother even though he knows Tommy would be heartbroken. He can’t say any of it because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Joel isn’t sure what those feelings are yet, but he knows it’s so much more than one should feel for their sister-in-law. 

“That’s not true.” You shake your head. “You did this long before I came along.”

“Maybe, but I think we make a pretty good team.” His chest tightens. That word doesn’t seem to encapsulate what you are to him. The words that do are inappropriate to use. You’re just two people brought together by their love of another person. Joel has repeated that sentence to himself more times than he cares to admit. 

“Yeah. I suppose we do.” A smile finds its way to your face and you clear the last tears from your face. “How do I look?”

“Like you’ve been crying for an hour.” Joel chuckles, letting his finger run the length of your jaw. He’s pushing a line. He knows, but he can’t help it. These stolen moments are all he gets. “But amazing as always.”

“I swear you and your brother couldn’t tell a woman she looked bad if there was a gun to your head.”

Joel shrugs, putting his hands in his pocket to avoid doing something he may regret. “We were raised right.”

“Mhmm, that’s why my husband is in jail right now.”

Later that evening, you’re cleaning up from dinner, a drink within reach when Joel speaks up. “I think we should go on vacation.”

“We?”

“The four of us.”

You turn the idea around in your head. It would be nice. You can’t remember the last time you had a real vacation, probably before Nathaniel was born. “What were you thinking?”

Joel shrugs. “Just the beach. There’s this place we used to go when we were kids. I’ve been wanting to take Sarah.”

“You sure you’d want us to tag along?”

“Did we not just talk about this?” He steals a dish from your hand, placing it in the dishwasher. “We’re a team, and we could all use the break.” 

“Yeah, It’s been a year… or two.”

“Try five.” Joel offers a weak smile. You return it. “I’ll call tomorrow. See what’s available.” 

“Thank you.”

taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours @duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee

[joekeeryswife]

Outbreak Day - J.M

a/n: hello angels! reader is 26 and pregnant and Joel is 36. there is a little twist 😵 best way to describe this imagine is that it’s sad, long and has a shitty ending lmfao. okay anyways, enjoy reading 🫶 please send me in some fluffy requests and some dad! joel requests too!!

big trigger warning this imagine is very gory and descriptive!

“Sarah honey, is that you?” you turned to look at the front door and saw your step daughter Sarah coming home from school. “hey mum” she said as she set her backpack down on the floor. “how was school?” you walked toward her and gave her a small hug and a kiss on her forehead.

“was good. got dads watch fixed but everyone acting weird, cops everywhere, shops closing early. i don’t know just weird” she said making your heart pound a little, you didn’t know why but hearing her say that scared you but you tried not to dwell on it too much. “yeah well it’s probably just people being stupid. we shouldn’t worry too much okay?” she nodded but then groaned making you frown.

“dad told the Adlers i’d go over there to help them make cookies” she sighed, it wasn’t that she didn’t like the Adlers it was just she wanted to spend time with you and her dad as it was his birthday. “look, go there for thirty minutes then say i need you home, i don’t mind you blaming me.” she smiled and thanked you.

“i was going to make your dad a cake but we don’t have the ingredients and i was too tired to go food shopping so he should be brining one home, he’s going to be home earlier today as well” her eyes lit up as you spoke “is it a chocolate cake?” she asked watching you nod. “i didn’t tell him it was because you have been craving one i told him it was because i was” Joel hated chocolate cake but for his girls he’d do anything to please them.

“thank you mum, you’re the best. i owe you one” she said as she turned to go out the front door again to the Adlers house. “no worries honey, if Mrs Adler bakes chocolate chip cookies please bring me one, the baby is craving them like mad” you said as you rubbed your growing stomach. she nodded and said her goodbyes before leaving to spend the worst 30 minutes of her life with the Adlers.

-♡-

“hey baby girl. how was school?” Joel asked as he finally got home, four hours later than expected. “you’re late” she said, completely ignoring his question as her eyes shifted from the TV to him. you had both been waiting for him on the sofa watching Harry Potter and you had fallen asleep not even halfway through the movie. being pregnant had made you extremely tired so it wasn’t a shock to Sarah when she saw you put a blanket over yourself and curl up into a ball on the sofa within the first 10 minutes of the movie playing.

“i know, im sorry. work has been crazy, guys calling in sick, it was just me, uncle Tommy and Dave in today. i meant to phone mum but my phone died” he said as he made his way over to the two of you. his heart melted when he saw you sleeping next to Sarah, you’d never looked cuter. “its fine, we had fun without you anyways” he lifted up your feet so he could sit between you both, careful to not wake you up in the process.

“did you at least get the cake?” she said shyly as Joel got comfortable on the sofa. “oh shit” he put his head in his hands “im sorry honey i completely forgot” she nodded, understanding that he obviously came straight home as soon as he finished work. “mum is probably gonna kill you. she wanted cookies earlier from the Adlers but they were making raisin instead of chocolate chip so i didn’t even bother asking if i could bring one home for her” Sarah said and Joel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his other resting on your legs.

“i’ll get you guys a cake tomorrow, i promise it just completely slipped my mind” she shook her head, indicating that it was fine and she understood he was stressed. Joel felt you stir and you woke up, your hair all over the place and your bones cracking as you stretched from a very good nap. “hi baby” Joel said softly as you looked at him.

he unwrapped his arms from Sarah’s shoulders for a moment so he could give you a hug and a kiss. “i miss you so much” you said as you sat up so you could rest on him instead of the arm of the sofa. “i missed you too. how are you? how’s the baby?” you nodded, still half asleep.

“fine, kicking like crazy” you were only six months pregnant and your unborn daughter was already giving you a hard time. you rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around both you and Sarah, pulling you both into him. “did you bring home the cake?” you asked making him sigh “no, i’m sorry baby, i forgot” you shrugged, eyes closing again as you tried to fight sleep but it was no use.

“i love mum so much but she could have slept through world war 2 and not have been disturbed at all” she said making Joel laugh quietly, trying not to wake you up. to be fair, carrying this baby had knackered you out and he understood that you needed sleep but sometimes you would be halfway through a conversation with him when he got home from work and you’d be falling asleep whilst you were taking. “to be fair, you aren’t wrong there” he ran a hand through your hair gently as he admired you, you were stunning and he loved you so much.

“anyway, let’s try spend some time together tonight, let’s put on a good film, this is shit” Joel said making Sarah scoff and look at him “that is a lie. Harry Potter is the best” he shook his head. “take it back or you work get your present” she said making him gasp. “you wouldn’t dare do that” he said to her, making her give him the ‘try me’ face which made him quickly change his comment and apologise to her.

she grabbed the box off of the coffee table and handed it to him. he unwrapped his arm from her yet again to try open it with one hand without waking you up. he opened the box and saw his now fixed watched that had been broken for three months. “aww baby that’s so sweet, thank you” he kissed her forehead and tried to put the watch on but failed miserably making Sarah help him put it on. “okay now we can watch your stupid old film dad but don’t expect me to stay awake” she said as they both got comfortable again “i wouldn’t dream of it” he smiled at her.

-♡-

green and blue flashing light woke Sarah up from her sleep. she looked around the room confused, she had somehow ended up in her bedroom and didn’t hear any noise in the house. she sat up as she heard helicopters fly over the house and car alarms go off. she quickly got up calling out for Joel as she walked around the house but she only found you in bed asleep, no sign of Joel.

she felt awful waking you up but she had no other choice. she crept to the side of your bed and shook you awake. “mum, can you wake up please?” you jumped awake when you felt her hand on your shoulder. “what’s the matter sweetheart?” you asked but your question was answered when another helicopter flew over the house. “what the hell?” you said sitting up quickly.

you grabbed your phone which was on the bedside table but there was no service. “what’s happening?” Sarah asked as you quickly got dressed out of your pyjamas. you were going to go outside and you didn’t want your neighbours, if they were awake, to see you in your pyjamas so you put on a tracksuit before walking downstairs. “i don’t know baby”

you turned on the tv and heard the broadcast ‘stay home, do not let anyone into your house. we will post more instructions soon’ you frowned, what the fuck was happening? you checked your phone again, this time trying to phone anyone, your mum, your dad, your brother, Joel and nothing. no calls were going through.

the two of you jumped at the sound of Mercy, the Adlers dog barking at your front door. Sarah quickly put on her shoes and went outside to retrieve the dog and you quickly followed, slipping on your trainers. “Sarah i don’t think we should go outside yet. we should wait for your dad” but she ignored you. she walked outside, bringing Mercy with her to take him back home making you follow after her as quick as you could.

“Sarah please come back inside” you said but the curious girl went inside the Adlers house after she heard a glass breaking. “no Sarah don’t go in there” you sighed, you loved that girl but she did not listen. Sarah was quiet walking into that house, making sure to not make any sudden movements as she did. the noise was coming from the kitchen and she quickly made her way there and almost screamed at the sight infront of her.

you were right behind her, you felt sick to your stomach as you saw Mrs Adlers mum chewing on her daughter’s neck with some sort of fungus growing out of her mouth. your eyes widened and your heart dropped, what the fuck was going on? the once disabled old woman looked up at the two of you and quickly stood up screeching and running after you when you told Sarah to run.

you weren’t as quick as you used to be but you were luckily quick enough the run away from this infected woman, she had fallen over the crinkled carpet giving you enough time to escape. “Sarah we need to get back in the house right now” you shouted as you grabbed her hand and tried to pull her into the house but as you did Joel’s truck pulled up.

“get in the truck right now” Joel shouted at you both, he sounded scared and he was never ever scared. this made you feel even more sick than before. he had a wrench in his hand and he quickly pulled the two of you behind him when the screeching sound approached you again. you all looked at the front door to see the elderly woman fall over the steps of her front porch.

Tommy got out of the car with a huge rifle in his hand making your eyes fill with tears, you were absolutely terrified but you didn’t want to show Sarah that you were scared, if she saw that she would feel even more frightened then she already was. you grabbed ahold of her hand and tried to pull her into the truck but she wouldn’t budge. it was like she was frozen in fear.

the old woman’s head shot up, her eyes were black and she started crawling towards you then she stood up and ran towards Joel and Tommy. “what are we doing Joel” without a second thought Joel cracked the wrench on her head making her fall to the floor. you and Sarah both gasped at what he had just done. Joel was never a violent person and this had shocked you.

he dropped the wrench and they both turned to look at you and Sarah. both of your faces were filled with fear and Joel quickly pulled Sarah into him “you killed her” she said, voice filled with fear “i know baby i’m sorry” he kissed her forehead and looked at you. you couldn’t believe what you just saw. you were confused and scared. “we gotta go” Tommy said making you all quickly get in the car.

you were sat in the back with Sarah who hugged you closely “it’s alright honey, it’ll all be over soon i promise” you whispered and you rubbed your hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her but also trying to comfort yourself. you could feel the baby kicking vigorously “are you okay y/n? you aren’t hurt are you?” Joel asked as he looked back at the two of you. you just shook your head.

you didn’t know why but all this fear made you wish you were back to being a little kid, wishing that your mum was there to comfort you when you were scared yet now you were the adult comforting your child and you didn’t know if you would ever even see your mum again.

“dad-” Sarah said but Joel quickly cut her off “i don’t know” he said like he knew what she was going to ask him. “they’re saying it’s a virus, some kind of parasite” Tommy added making Joel look at him. “does it come from terrorists?” she asked making Joel repeat himself “we don’t know”

“are we sick?” she asked and this time you answered “no, none of us are sick” Joel nodded “of course not” he sounded mad but you didn’t know what at. “why were they blowing things up?” her eyes were filled with tears as she asked all these questions.

“no idea, there’s no phone, no radio” her eyes darted between Tommy and Joel “how do you know?” she asked, voice laced with concern “what?” Joel looked back at the two of you, cuddled up together with you trying to act your calmest but he knew you, you were freaking out.

“how do you know we aren’t sick?” she was practically crying now. “they’re saying it’s mostly people in the city, that’s why they have the highway blocked off” Tommy said but he was quickly silenced when he drove past a burning house of one of his friends.

“the Adlers would take nana to the city, so that’s why they were sick?” Joel nodded “your right, that’s probably why” his thick texan accent was filled with concern but he tried his best to stay calm. “we are going to be fine, trust me” Tommy said but he sounded unsure of what he had just said.

he drive around the corner and quickly slowed down when he saw a small family. “what are you doing?” Joel asked and Tommy just shook his head “they have a kid Joel” Joel quickly cut him off. “so do we, are you forgetting that my wife is pregnant?”

“Joel Tommy is right, they have a kid we should help them” he turned back to you “no, we don’t know them. keep driving Tommy” he’d never spoken this was before and this was definitely not the Joel you knew. you just prayed that whatever this is would go away and you could go back to your normal lives.

-♡-

you were driving through the town, planes flying low, catastrophe everywhere and you were just scared. “right keep going down this way” Joel said as Tommy drove down a side road leading to a whole group of people who were fighting and running away from the danger. “keep driving Tommy” Joel said even though there were people everywhere.

“are you kidding? Joel i can’t just drive through a whole group of people” Joel cut him off shouting “just keep going damn it” cars were crashing into each other, the sounds of people screaming made your eyes fill with tears. the next thing you knew the cinema doors cracked open with a lot more people coming out of it, all of them crying.

“shit” Tommy said as he quickly stoped the car “go go, fuck Tommy go get out of here” Joel said as he looked behind him out of the truck and slammed his hand on the dashboard “i’m going, i’m going” Tommy started reversing back, careful to not hit anyone in the process.

Sarah looked out the back window and so did you, seeing the huge airplane falling rapidly toward the floor. “Tommy, you need get out of here” you shouted as the plane darted toward you. “fuck Tommy go now” Joel shouted but it was too late, the huge plane crashed on the ground exploding into a million pieces.

the huge flame almost blinded you, you felt sickened at the thought of all those people on the plane that didn’t even stand a chance. “oh shit” you heard Sarah say as a huge chunk of the plane crashed into you car and then your whole world went black.

-♡-

“y/n” you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder as you awoke from the darkness “y/n honey we need to get you out, can you get out slowly for me angel?” Joel’s soft voice filled your mind as you sat up, a sharp shooting pain went right through your stomach making you groan. “my stomach is killing me” you said as you put a hand on your belly. you looked out the window and saw Sarah sitting on the floor and Joel crouching next to where you were sitting.

“don’t panic, it’s probably nothing okay?” Joel’s heart dropped when he heard you say that, a pain in your stomach was never a good sign especially when you are pregnant. “can you get out sweetheart? or do you need help?” you just nodded and started making your way out of the car.

once you had gotten out of the car you stood next to Sarah and saw Tommy was on the opposite side “we gotta get off of the street” he said as you stood up right, you right hand still back on your stomach hoping to feel any sign of movement. “Sarah can’t walk, i’ll have to carry her. do you think you can walk?” you nodded again. “shit” you heard Tommy shout as a police car crashed into Tommys now ruined truck.

the car set alight and you were lucky you even made it out of the car that quick before it crashed otherwise you would have been dead and you wouldn’t have wanted your family to see that. “Tommy” Joel shouted as he tried to see Tommys face through the flames. “i’m okay, head to the river and i’ll meet you there” with a simple nod Joel picked up Sarah and pushed you behind him.

“stay close okay?” he gave you a quick kiss before you both started making your way through the side roads trying to find a way to the river. the two of you stopped once you saw a group of bodies with people eating them. “what the fuck” you whispered as you saw this horrific sight in front of you. one of the people shot up, looking at you twitching weirdly.

“go” Joel pushed you in front of him and you both started running through a random cafe. the man chased you, snarling and screeching as he followed. you could hear the man tripping over different things but you didn’t dare look behind you. you could hear Joel comforting Sarah who was now crying as you finally made it outside but you didn’t stop running until a gunshot filled the silent field.

you and Joel both stopped, turning to look back and the now dead body in front of you. “don’t move” you heard someone say next to you as a bright light shone on the three of you. “my daughters hurt her ankle and my wife is pregnant” the man lowered his gun and started talking to his radio “i’ve got three civilians by the river, one of them injured, one pregnant”

you couldn’t make out what the other person was saying but your thoughts were cut short when Sarah spoke up “what about uncle Tommy?” she questioned Joel just shook his head “i’m gonna get you both safe first then i’ll go back for him okay?” she just nodded and you all looked back at the masked man. “yes sir….. yes sir”

he raised his gun “we are not sick” Joel said as the man approached the three of you. “sir, i said we are not sick” with that the masked man shot a round of bullets and Joel heard you and Sarah scream. you all rolled down a small ditch and Joel quickly turned to look at the man who was now approaching him with his gun raised. “i’m sorry” he said but before he could shoot Joel another shot was fired, killing him instantly.

he looked up to see Tommy with his gun raised, he had never been so happy to see his brother in his whole life. “are you okay?” Tommy asked Joel who was just grazed by a bullet and Joel just nodded but Tommys eyes shifted to you who was covered in blood and gasping for air. “oh god” he said making Joel turn around to look at you.

all you could do was feel a throbbing pain in you stomach. Joel quickly got up and ran to you and Tommy made sure Sarah was okay and turned her away from you. he knew Joel wouldn’t want her seeing you like this and it was bad enough he had to see you like this. “no no it’s okay” he could see the blood soaking through your jumper, the once grey colour was now a soaked dark red and it was growing by the second.

“you’re okay, move your hand honey” Joel said once you’d moved your hand, putting pressure on the wound. you cried in pain as you still gasped for air. “i know i know im so sorry sweetheart i am” he said and he pressed harder on the wound to stop it from bleeding out more. you managed to speak through your pain as you grabbed onto Joel’s arm “go” he shook his head.

“go Joel, take” you took a few more deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down “take Sarah and go” he just shook his head again. “no, i’m not leaving you like this. i can get help and you’re gonna survive this” he said, his eyes filling with tears as he saw your tired but pained expression.

“you know how much i love you, i don’t” you closed your eyes as you breathed deeply again “i don’t want you seeing me like this” you stuttered out. you felt a tear roll down your cheek as you realised what was about to happen to you. “meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me” you could hear Sarah sobbing next to Tommy and you hated that she was even watching you, laying there covered in blood.

“i’m sorry” he said as he sat down next to you, he took the pressure off of your wound and you were grateful he had given up, there was no way you were going to be able to survive this and you didn’t want to prolong it. you just shook your head at his comment. “don’t-”

you felt pain all over your body but you felt tired, so tired that you wanted to sleep desperately. “i love you, i love Sarah. just take her and run okay?” he had tears now rolling down his cheeks, his bloody hand now stroking your cheek softly. “im not leaving you here on your own” you just smiled at him. you knew he wouldn’t leave but you wanted to save him from the trauma of seeing you go.

“i know” you looked at him and he kissed you, one last for however long he has left on this earth. “i love you so much” you heard him say and with that your eyes closed. he sobbed quietly, you were gone and nothing was ever going to bring you back.

you were carrying his unborn child and he wished he could go back in time and taken the bullet instead of you. you were this ethereal soul who didn’t deserve to die this way and he hated it. he hated it so much. he tried his best to calm himself down as he took your wedding ring off of your finger and put it in his pocket hoping to keep it safe. it wasn’t like someone was going to steal it but he took it off so he could have something with him that was yours.

he kissed your forehead and carefully placed your body back on the floor and turned toward Sarah and Tommy, he had tear stains on his cheeks but his expression was neutral. “let’s go” he said, he was emotionless “dad, we can’t just leave her-” he cut Sarah off “i said let’s go” with that the three of them left and never looked back.

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Six

Words: 5.8k

Just as you approach something resembling contentment, this broken world will exact its toll.

Warnings: smutty smut, trauma, grief, Joel hasn't come to terms with what happened in Salt Lake, Joel is bad at feelings, but pretty good with his hands. Minors DNI.

Part Five | Series Masterlist | Part Seven

You were busy again, the new table earning its keep almost immediately, and the ease that you moved around your treatment room, the way that you could bend without reaching over, push with your weight rather than your wrists, meant that you could concentrate more, heal more effectively. You hadn’t realised how much the clumsiness of the old dining table had been holding you back. Every day that you used it, you wanted to find a new way to thank Joel. Maybe even sometimes, with all of your clothes on.

Except that the idea also terrified you, in a way that you were struggling to really understand. The idea of him, of being naked with him, not that you really fully had been, of kissing him even, no that you had, was enough to send an absolute riot of butterflies careening through your guts and down into your legs, into your knees. The idea of him scared you, his reputation proceeded him, and you kept thinking of how wary Maria was, how protective Ellie seemed to be, how sweetly oblivious Tommy was most of the time which you were beginning to suspect was actually a choice. You wanted to pull them all into a room and forensically map out who the fuck Joel Miller actually was. You were aware you were thinking like a crazy person. You didn’t care.

Because then when he was with you, when you fell into his orbit, looked into his eyes, there was something heavier and realer and more tangible than your stupid, flighty, squawking fears. It worried you, that he made you into a different person when he was around you. You weren’t sure what that person was capable of getting up to, left to her own devices, but you had an inkling.

You knew that you were pushing him away, pushing it all away, because it scared you, but also it felt like the only sane thing to do, had kept you alive for years and years, had meant that when you lost people it hurt less, maybe. Being busy again, and fairly invested in maintaining your denial for as long as you could manage it, you got back to your usual routine of seeing the broken and weary people of Jackson early, before the work hours, and then steadily throughout the day. It afforded you the illusion of being sociable, of contributing to the community, without having to actually be in it. Without Ray and Marla, with Maria and Tommy wrapped up in the baby, with Joel being…Joel, you had collected a long list of clients and a dwindling list of friends. It could have made you sad if you thought about it, so you didn’t, and you were too busy anyway, and how could you be lonely with all these people in your house?

Besides which, in the quiet moments you could feel the tension in people, the uneasiness woven tight into the musculature of most of the residents you now saw. Not everyone knew Marla or Jacob or the others personally, not everyone even necessarily liked them, especially not fucking Jacob, but everyone had an investment in their safe and hopefully bountiful return.

To escape it, you went for long walks along the foreshore of Jackon’s lake at the bottom of the township, until the dying light forced you back. You were there, hands in the freezing water feeling out for flat stones you could warm in hot water and press into particularly assertive muscle knots, when you heard the yelling. You were up and sprinting, the twisty and icy path underneath you occasionally threatening to boot you into the snow, and if you’d had time to think about it you have marvelled at the difference in your reaction from Joel and Ellie’s homecoming to this one. The elation you felt at their return, the relief of it, not just for you and Marla and Ray, but for Jackon. For what it meant for this community. For your community.

Trying not to knock yourself out on the way to the gate meant that you didn’t initially notice the quiet. There was a smattering of people still out despite the cold, the encroaching darkness, but they weren’t rushing forward, weren’t really helping the returned residents, were in fact milling around, some just standing in quiet observance, and it occurred to you for a second that they were like onlookers at a funeral. You pushed forward into the crowd, trying to see past unmoving shoulders, past still bodies, moving towards the sounds of horses, of panting breaths you weren’t sure belonged to whom.

And then you arrived at the front, and you had a clear view. And you realised the panting breaths were your own.

There were only two horses, and only three riders. Marla at the reigns of one, Jacob slung over the back of her saddle, slumping over at an odd angle, his head rolled back in a way that you thought would really strain his cervical spine, until you realised he was tied to the horse, had been roped around Marla’s midsection, that he was nearly as pale as the snow around you, that he was very dead. The other rider stared, unblinking, into the distance and was eventually helped down and led to the infirmary, not ever having said a word.

Marla had seen you, had watched you fight your way to the front of the crowd, had searched you out. She was shivering, a splatter of blood across her chest and under her neck, and you couldn’t tell if it was hers or if it was Jacob’s or someone else’s entirely, and in that moment staring into her eyes you knew that it didn’t matter, that it would never matter, that whatever damage it was it had already been calculated, tallied, on a ledger somewhere none of you would ever be able to balance.

You motioned to a few of the men around you, gesturing to the ropes around Marla’s middle. ‘Cut him loose,’ you said, in a voice you didn’t recognise, and reached your arms up to hold Marla’s hand. You held it, limp and contrite in yours, while Jacob’s body was freed from hers. When he was lifted away she slumped forward, her back having held his weight for god knows how long, and you caught her, pulled her down from the horse on wobbling legs, let her crumple underneath you and set her down onto the pavement. Someone pulled a blanket over her shoulders and you held her in it, gripped her hard and tight and let her shake in your arms. You looked up into the eyes of Ray, who looked like he might throw up or pass out or both, and you pulled him down with you, wrapped him around her while he cried into her hairline, and you watched as the horses were led away.

‘Did you bring anything?’ someone asked from the crowd, quiet but hopeful, and you wanted to reach up and slap them for every moronic word they had dared speak into existence, had thought to utter in this sacred space of abject loss.

Marla never answered, and you squeezed her. She twisted in your arms to look up at you, an angry purple and yellow bruise forming having formed under her eye. You turned to Ray. ‘Help me get her to mine,’ you said.

--

You had the fire going, and you pushed your old armchair right up to it, folding Marla into it under a sea of blankets. Ray went to get something to bring her from the mess hall, something warming but easy to chew, and you perched beside her, slid down until her knees were in your lap and she was resting her head against the wing of the chair, and you stared, together, into the fire.

‘We barely made it back,’ she whispered, her voice dry, her lips chapped and windburned. You stayed still, not wanting to shake her, not wanting to do anything that might stop her from talking. ‘Rode through, all night. I wanted to bring him back, bring them all but I could only get him.’

‘Was it raiders?’ you asked, and she shook her head.

‘Both,’ she said, and you didn’t understand. ‘Raiders that had…kept a few clickers, had them locked up, had them uhhh…weaponised.’

You shuddered. ‘Like pets?’ you asked.

‘Like torture devices,’ she simply replied. You contemplated this for a second, couldn’t imagine it, the terror of being faced with that choice: raider or runner.

‘We got within a few hours of where we thought the pharmacy was,’ she went on, her voice catching. She continued to shake, her hands tremoring underneath the blanket, and you tried to tuck her in tighter, tried to warm her up. ‘We’d gone through a valley, ended up on the other side of a glade, it would have been so beautiful in the before times. We found a farmhouse, looked abandoned. Wasn’t.’

She was jiggling her foot and you put your hand out to hold it, feeling that her socks were wet. ‘By the time we realised they were already on us, were ready, had seen us coming.’

She looked at you, tears forming in her eyes. ‘They tried to lock us in the cage with them,’ she swallowed. ‘Jacob was really brave, fought them hard, stopped them from putting us in.’

If cold had gotten into her boots she must have been freezing, was risking losing a toe. You lifted the blankets to pull at her sock, putting your hand on her bare skin to warm it.

‘But one of them, two of them maybe, they got out,’ she continued. You held the ball of her foot in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the top of her foot in what you hoped were comforting little circles.

‘I just wanted to get him back here,’ she said, just as you felt it, a raised, rough ridge on her ankle, tendrils of heat snaking up her shin. You threw the blankets back, saw the bite there, the way the ropes of twisting fungus had already started their march up to her heart. You froze, your terrified eyes snapping to her wet, sorry, scared ones.

‘Don’t let Ray do it,’ she said.

--

It didn’t matter that you hadn’t been there before, you knew where it was. You wrapped on the door so hard you would later discover the skin on your knuckles had split. All you could hear was the ringing in your ears, your vision narrowed down to a pinprick, the look on Marla’s face so drawn, so scared, so resolute, imprinted on the inside of your eyelids. You kept wrapping, hopping from side to side, your tears mingling with the frigid air. You called for him on his front porch, your voice high and choking on the fear, on the grief in it.

He'd wrenched the door open, having pulled his boots on but not yet done up the laces, the furrow in his brow deep, his eyes wild when he clocked you, when he checked your six.

‘Jesus, are you? What is it?’ he spluttered, and you couldn’t let him finish, had to get the words out in case they poisoned you.

‘She’s bit, Joel,’ you spat out, watching his face fall.

‘Who, Ellie?’ he asked, panic rising in his voice, and you choked out a sob, shaking your head fiercely. He grabbed you by both shoulders, bending down to look you in the eye. You shook underneath him, wanted to launch yourself into his chest and bury yourself in it.

‘Marla,’ you said, shivering so hard your jaw was barely cooperating. ‘She came back bit.’

‘Where is she?’ he asked, and you told him. You’d locked her in your treatment room. She hadn’t turned yet, and you figured there was still an hour or two, maybe. The tremors you’d thought were the cold, shock.

‘Please, Joel,’ you said, and he was already heading back into the house to grab his rifle. Tears were streaming down your face now, your knees threatening to give. ‘Please be kind about it.’

He pulled you in, off his porch and into his living room. Set you down on the rug beside the fire.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said. ‘You stay here, you stay warm. You wait for me. You don’t come lookin’, you hear me?’

You nodded, and he shook his head at you. ‘Repeat it,’ he said.

‘I won’t come looking,’ you said, quiet and desperate like a child. He nodded, then, his rifle slung over his shoulder. You took a long breath in, felt the burn of it down your chest and into your lungs. Felt the electricity crackle between the two of you, arcing from his chest to yours through the air, let it fuel you for the next part.

--

The three of you had just left Chicago, two or so days into your trek towards Wyoming, to maybe find something better, to maybe find more of the same. Ray and Marla were ahead of you by about four paces, you deciding to hang back to let them chat. You could hear their murmurs, Ray’s giggle high and giddy when Marla made him laugh. You could imagine the two of them strolling down a sidewalk together, one hand holding their coffees with the other hand holding each other’s. You could see the golden light of the late afternoon in the trees, backlighting them as they chatted about their work, about their friends, about what movie they wanted to see on the weekend. You could imagine them going out for dinner of an evening, Marla resting her head on Ray’s shoulder as the sun set over the water, the two of them intertwined and suburban and blissfully, delightfully bored.

You were so lost in this reverie that you hadn’t realised they were talking to you until you nearly rammed into them, and you stopped to see them smiling, warmly at you.

‘You were a million miles away,’ Marla observed, and she reached out to pinch your arm.

‘Years,’ you said. ‘I was a million years away.’

--

 You sat with your legs folded underneath you on Joel’s floor, the fire warming your skin enough to remind you that you were alive. Your stomach ached, your chest burned, you rocked backwards and forwards and tucked your chin into your chest and sobbed, alternating between wiping your tears with the top of your shirt and just letting them fall onto the carpet.

You saw yourself as if you were floating outside your body, observed yourself get up on all fours and keen into the carpet, unleashing a wail unlike anything you’d ever heard. You thought, for a second, that this woman on the floor was unrecognisable, was barely human, scratching at the rug and trying to breathe through the sobs.

The night grew darker. The fire died down. You collapsed in on yourself, felt the last guide rope tethering you to the ground fail, and you slipped under, crouched on the floor with your forehead resting on your arms, your knees numb from the weight of pressing into the rug, your mind empty, time having stopped, the world having fallen off its axis. A small part of you observed in wonder at how much grief you could carry. A larger part, a wiser part, a part that had taken a back seat to let the banshee take the wheel for a while, knew that this was so much more than Marla. Knew that it was all of them, a ledger steeped in red.

In the darkness you became vaguely aware of footsteps, the sound of the fire being stoked, logs being added. Felt a blanket thrown over your shoulders, then warm hands on the small of your back guiding you, pulling you up and over to sit astride a warm body, a strong pair of legs. You wrapped your arms around him, clung to him like a koala to a Eucalypt, snuffled your tear-streaked face into his neck, into his shirt. He held you to him, a hand buried in your hair and cradling your skull in his palm, the other wrapped around your back, easing the fabric away and tucking under, to touch you, skin to skin. You heard whispers of words, mixed with your own sobs, your own gasps. He held you through all of it, on aching bones on the hard floor, until the crashing waves settled, until you finally washed ashore.

‘You don’t have a couch,’ you said, after a while, pulling your head up to observe the oddly sparse furniture arrangement. He snickered, leaning you back to brush the hair out of your eyes, away from your wet face.

You realised, after a moment, heat on your cheeks. ‘Oh,’ you said, simply. He gazed at you, watched you put two and two together, stood unshaken in all that he had sacrificed for you.

‘But where do you sit?’ you asked, and he nodded towards the old rocking chair he’d pulled in from the porch outside. You nodded your head, because it was perfect really, and because it made sense, and because you needed it to.

‘Is she gone?’ you asked, shifting on his lap to watch his face. He blinked slowly, nodded. You felt your face crumple, felt him tighten his hold on you. ‘Was it bad?’ you choked out, and he shook his head.

‘She was so brave,’ he said, gravelly voice just above a whisper. He reached out and cupped your face, wiped a tear away, held your gaze to him. ‘She was ready. She said when it was time.’

‘She didn’t…turn?’ you asked, clinging to his forearms now, letting him anchor you. He shook his head once more.

‘No, baby,’ he said, and you wanted to wrap yourself up in the sound of it, let it blanket you in warmth and quiet, burrow down into it and hibernate for the winter.

‘Thank you,’ you said, simply. He hummed in response, collecting a tear on his thumb and raising it to his lips, licking it clean. You gasped at the sight of it, his eyes never leaving yours, squirming on his lap, the sudden heat in your cunt catching you off guard. ‘Joel?’ you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows at you. ‘Are your legs numb?’ and he laughed then, because you had managed to surprise him, and after he caught his breath he sheepishly nodded. ‘Take me to bed, then,’ you said, climbing off him and extending a hand. You hauled him up, his knees creaking. For a moment the both of you stood, staring at each other in the light of the fire. You felt breathless with need for him, your head swimming, the sadness shifting just enough to let the heat in, the want. ‘Up the stairs,’ he told you. You slipped your hand into his paw.

--

Joel’s bedroom was sparse, the walnut oak bed pressed up against the wall, a stack of books on the floor beneath a bare lamp, a guitar in the corner. His scent was all over the sheets, all over the clothes strewn around the floor. You pressed yourself against him in the hope that you would absorb some of it into your cotton.

The moment you crossed the threshold his hands were on you, pulling your clothes from you like they had personally insulted him, shucking your jeans off your hips and pulling your panties down with them until you were bare, standing before him at the foot of his bed. He took a step back and you watched his face as his gaze devoured you, the heat of it so scorching that you could swear you could feel his fingers on you even standing three feet away. You trembled from the cold air and the intensity of it, and he saw in your face, read in you that you wanted to turn away from it, from the intimacy of it.

‘Don’t,’ he all but whispered, coming towards you and running his hands up on the outside of your arms. ‘Don’t be shy, not now,’ he said. He slipped a hand behind your back and his knees between yours, pushing you gently onto the bed behind you, laid his body over you and nipped at the skin behind your ear. You pulled at his flannel, trying to claw it from him without even unbuttoning it, groaning in frustration when the garment held fast. He snickered, his little lopsided grin, as he pulled it away.

You lifted yourself up on one arm, bringing the other to cradle him to you, licks and nibbles to his collar bone, to the patches of hair on his chin. His brought his hands to your breasts, pebbled the nipple with his fingers while he pushed and rolled them, squeezed them together just to watch them bounce. He was hard and heavy between your legs, still covered in his jeans, and you lifted shaking fingers to his belt buckle. He froze, a sharp intake of breath between his teeth, as he watched you. You faltered, worried for a second you had read it all wrong, that he was going to push you from him, that he had seen something in you, that you had revealed something wrong and gnarled.

‘Do you…should I?’ you stuttered, and he came to his senses again, his brow creasing when he saw you were floundering.

‘Oh, my sweet girl,’ he said, and you thought it would be kinder if he just set you on fire at that point, ‘darlin’ I was just awed for a second, that somethin’ as gorgeous as you would want a man like me. An old man like me.’

You felt the relief wash over you, your pulse quickening now but not from fear. ‘Seasoned,’ you grinned, bringing him back down to you, pulling him on top of you as his hands helped yours to free him, push his jeans over his hips. ‘Worn in,’ you went on, and he grinned at your little game. ‘Fine wine,’ you finished, and he snickered again.

‘Vinegar,’ he said, and you pushed his head down to your chest, fed him your breast, let him lave at your nipple while you gasped and clutched at his hair.

‘Experienced,’ you whimpered, and he huffed out a warm laugh into your breastbone. You wanted to unlock your ribs, swing them open like an ancient garden gate, and capture it there for safe keeping.

Free, now, the two of you naked and lying together on top of his blanket, the sheets rumpling underneath you as you rutted against each other. He reached a hand down to cup your sex, groaning when he felt how wet he had made you, how you were dripping for him. You gasped as he ran his fingers up and over your slit, gently teasing your lips apart, testing you, teasing you. You rolled your hips, trying to snare him, trying to slide him inside, but he worked against you, zigged when you zagged, and your frustrated little gasps delighted him.

‘Joel,’ you groaned, your voice tight across your chest, not enough air in your lungs to properly scold him. He ignored you, instead lifting his lips to his fingers and sampling a little taste. You watched him, eyes wide as his fell shut at the taste of you.

‘So sweet,’ he said, almost to himself, before he opened his eyes as if he just remembered you were there. ‘Here, baby,’ he said, and he fed yourself to you, his fingers sliding over your tongue as you suckled at them, his hot breath on your face as he watched you, pupils dark in the half-light of his lamp, sweat forming on his brow.

When you had sucked them clean he lowered them again, slipped them inside you, bending down to rest his ear on your mouth when you began to pant, to whimper.

‘Show me,’ he said, pulling your hand to your cunt and watching as you began slow, lazy circles around your clit. He furrowed his brow, pushed off you and down to watch properly, lifted a leg to prop you open, planting your foot on the mattress beneath you to open you wide and obscene in front of him. You blushed, moved to cover your face with your hands, but he stopped and caught you, brought your fingers back to your core before he slipped inside again. You raised your head to look at him beneath you and you realised he was learning you, studying your movements to replicate them later, letting you teach him how to touch you so that you’d never have to do it alone again.

Your first orgasm hit you hard. Under his careful, studious gaze you felt yourself unravel, your legs shaking where he held you open, his hand grasping at your ankle to keep you from slamming shut. So lost in the feeling of it, of the blooming heat expanding out and into your belly, of the undulations of your cunt around his fingers, that you barely noticed him slip his fingers from you and slide to the ground beside the bed, pushing your legs into your chest and holding them there, pressing you in half all the better to ease his tongue into your cunt and lick up your spend, kitten licks at your sensitive clit before plunging his tongue into your hole, breathing hard through his nose and groaning, uttering filth in the base of his throat as he devoured you, wrung your second orgasm from you in a matter of minutes, rolling from side to side and head thrown back, hands tangled in his hair as his mouth rode you, as he stayed with you up to your peak and then over it, savouring and lapping at your come, rutting into the side of the bed as he let your thighs down to rest on his shoulders, your breath ragged and rippling with pleasure, hands clutching to the blanket to steady himself, to catch his breath.

He gazed at you in repose, ran his eyes over your sopping cunt up to your heaving belly, to the curve of the underside of your breast, the nipples straining into the cold air, and then up to your face, your head thrown back as you came down, as you squirmed from the overstimulation still coursing through you, as you let your hands drop beside you, sated and glorious in his worship of you.

You swallowed, your mouth, lips, throat dry. With shaky hands you reached for him, grabbed at the air above his shoulders, felt him shift and rise up to meet you, felt his weight blanketing you as you came back to yourself. With one hand in your hair and the other tracing your cheek, your jaw, you opened your eyes to stare into his, the desire carved hard and deep into his features.

‘Take it,’ you whispered, watching as his bottom lip quivered with need. ‘Please, Joel.’

He shifted his weight to one arm, reached down between you as you lifted your legs to bracket his hips, crossing your feet at the ankles behind his back. You felt him guide his cock to the weeping maw of your cunt.

‘Please,’ you whispered again, as you felt him slip inside you, the burn and the stretch and the force of him, so hard and pulsing as he parted you. He dropped his head, sighing, and you planted your lips to his brow, whimpered at the weight of his cock inside you, at the weight of the two of you finally, finally joined.

‘She’s tight, baby,’ he said, his brow creasing. He moved his hips, shoving further into you in one shot, and you gasped, grabbed at his shoulders, brought his eyes back to yours. He paused, gazing into your eyes, read the trepidation in them. ‘S’ok baby,’ he cooed, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheekbone. ‘You can do it,’ he encouraged, and you felt the warmth of his reassurance radiate down your thighs. ‘We can take our time,’ he said, languidly pulling back from you before gently, achingly, taking his place again. ‘Got all night for ya,’ he said, and you realised he had started to ramble, and that under his hot breath, on top of his blanket in his sparse bedroom lit only by his bedside lamp, in the cold Jackson night where the snow dampened all the noise, all the loss, all the sharp edges down, you never wanted him to stop whispering his filthy encouragement to you, never wanted him to stop easing his way into you, to the core of you, marking you where only he belonged.

‘Doin’ so good for me,’ he went on, his eyes closing on their own, lost in the grip of your cunt around him, in the heat of you. Finally he was fully seated, the warmth of his belly coming to rest upon yours. He settled there, reluctant to move, until you squirmed underneath him, caged whimpers escaping your throat. He opened his eyes, his lopsided grin appearing above you, as he planted a kiss on your hairline, gazed down at you as you stretched around him. He brought his hand down to cup your jaw again, held you there under his stare, as he withdrew his hips and eased back in again, pushing deeper into you that you gasped when he bottomed out, his eyes never leaving yours as your mouth dropped open in surprise at the feeling he was pulling from you, at the need and the ache of your cunt spread so open and wanting for him, at the way he was so effortlessly taking you apart, so calmly and so warmly unravelling you.

‘Too good,’ you complained, your brow saddling and jaw clenching, as you felt your cunt grip and release, grip and release. He cooed at you, revelling in your whimpers, gasped as you did, shared in your breath, made you submit to the divinity he was pushing you towards. This was how your third orgasm found you.

Locked in his gaze you could only lie beneath him, holding him to you by the shoulders and groaning as he pistoned in and out, watching his eyes slam shut as he was dragged under, submitted to the pull, his come washing the fear and the stress and the grief out of you, replacing it only with scorching heat, with a kind of pleasure indistinguishable from a greedy, pernicious want, with something that, in another life, you could have shaped into love. 

--

You lay, entwined together, under his blanket. Your head on his chest, ear to his heartbeat, you felt your body rise and fall as he breathed underneath you. You hadn’t wanted the night to end, hadn’t wanted to close your eyes and wake to the aftermath. Together you lay and watched the sunrise. Occasionally Joel ran his fingers up and down your arm to let you know he was still there.

‘Joel?’ you whispered, and he hummed in response. You kept your head down, listening to his pulse quicken as you spoke. ‘Canna ask you something?’ you said, jaw resting on his ribs.

‘Uhhuh,’ he said, but his fingers were stopped now, frozen in place on your shoulder.

‘Before, when we were…’ you trailed off, because even though hours before he had been eyelevel with your swollen, puffy cunt, now suddenly talking about it felt too intimate. ‘Before,’ you started again, ‘you said you didn’t think I’d want a man like you.’

‘An old man,’ he corrected, and you smiled.

‘Seasoned,’ you corrected, and he groaned, theatrically. ‘But you said a man like you, then an old man like you,’ you reminded him. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the temperature in the room drop. ‘What did you mean?’ you ploughed on, because you were in it now.

He thought for a moment, swallowing hard. You shifted in his arms, looked up at him, saw the flicker of panic there, before he reset his features in stone. You pulled away from him in surprise, not having seen that look directed at you in weeks, not since the first time he had appeared reticent and sore at your door. Your stomach dropped.

‘I gotta check on the horses,’ he said, rolling you out of the way and moving to get up. You sat up with him, grabbing at his arm.

‘Joel,’ you said, trying to pull him back towards you, but so easily overpowered. He rolled his shoulder, shaking you off.

‘The two that came back, they need to be checked over. Waited for first light.’

‘Joel, I don’t understand what’s happening.’ He was standing, pacing around the room pulling his clothes back together, gathering yours and dropping them on the end of the bed. He stared at you, expectant, but you refused to move.

‘What kind of man did you mean, Joel?’ you pressed him, and he scoffed, pulling his jeans on and hastily doing up his shirt. He missed a few buttons, and in that moment you didn’t feel like helping him.

‘You know exactly what kind of man,’ he said.

You saw Maria’s tense shoulders when he came into her kitchen, bleeding. You saw her sitting in your kitchen as you held her feet to your chest, explaining how Tommy was different, how he had only wanted to impress his big brother.

Sort of dressed, he was now pacing, the morning light turning his skin a ghostly pale, and you thought for a moment he was haunting you. ‘You know exactly,’ he repeated. ‘Same reason you came running to me the second your friend needed killin’.’

You flinched like he’d slapped you, would have preferred if he had.

‘What kind of man, Joel?’ you asked, and he looked at you, then, tortured for a second before he wiped it away with his hand on his face.

‘A fuckin killer,’ he said, quiet and deathly in the chill of the morning.

You stared at him, heart racing. You were surprised and you also weren’t. You knew what this world demanded of people, the toll you had all paid for survival.

‘Infected?’ you asked, and he sighed, frustrated.

‘Don’t be so fuckin’ naïve,’ he said.

You remembered you were naked, but this was the first time he had really made you feel it, and you held the blanket to your chest, tight.

He wouldn’t look at you, staring instead out the window as Jackson woke.

‘I ain’t a good man,’ he said, quietly, and you shook your head.

‘I don’t believe that,’ you said, and he sneered at you then, picked up your clothes and threw them at you.

‘You don’t know shit about me,’ he said, and then he was gone. You listened as his heavy footsteps stomped down the stairs, the pause as he pulled his boots on, the slam of the door.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

@daddy-dins-girl

@kathaaaaaaa

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 1

Chapter One: Solitude

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 6.7K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, blood and gore

—————

Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own …

The northern winds were unforgiving to the open area abandoned of life, well the whole world was abandoned from life following the Outbreak. Cordyceps that destroyed the world in a matter of hours, though you weren’t there on Outbreak day you had dealt with your fair share of infected. But the secluded area you had found and claimed as yours didn’t give much of the fungi-humans. Sure there were the stray infected that came from the distance but they dead, sniped from a distance before they could get anywhere close to your home. It wasn’t the infected you needed to worry about when you were truly far away from populated areas for cordyceps to spread…it was the people that would think like you. And that’s what you were worried about and it seemed like your luck in this remote area had finally run out.

Your last hunt tied to your pack your rifle slung over your shoulder as you make your way through the snow to the cabin. Two rabbits that you were glad to find in your traps, it would have been great to have deer. Just a few hours ago a herd of deer had come through here and you had wished you could find their location but you had to settle for the rabbit for dinner. Coming over the small hillside, the path from the thicker forest and home was so routine that you could do it with your eyes closed. Seeing the snow-capped cabin appear you smile under the scarf covering the lower half of your face, you can’t wait to be inside and warm by the fireplace. The horses outside your home have you frozen as you swing your rifle into your hands instantly on edge and wary. You were so stupid to look after your tracks, did someone see you when you were hunting and followed your trail back? They couldn’t have you switch hunting locations every day and the different trails back would confuse anyone who does not know the area. Drawing closer to your home and see only two horses tied to the fencing as they mull around giving you no attention. Circling the home to avoid the front door in case they are camping right there to blow your head off. Finding the back door silently creaking it open as your breath is silent and footsteps non-existence after years of learning to become invisible. You can hear things being moved around as you creep into your own home. Your rifle aimed at the doors you knew you had closed now open checking to make sure no one is hiding in them. The bedroom door swings open and you press yourself against the wall as you watch a man with his rifle slung over his shoulder come out and turn in the direction leading to the living room. Before he could get a step down the hall the cool metal pressed against his back has him frozen.

“Slowly slide the rifle off your shoulder,” You growl and he slowly raises his hands and he lets the rifle slide off his shoulder and hit the ground.

“Tommy? Everything alright?” A man’s voice calls out and you press the barrel of your rifle into Tommy’s back.

“Walk.” You order as he keeps his hands raised and walks out towards the living room and you hear footsteps of the other man.

“Tommy? Did you hear what I sa-” “Keep your hands where I can see them or your buddy here gets it.” You say as you look at a younger man as he freezes with his rifle in his hand.

“Tomm-” “Jesse do as they say.” Tommy cuts off Jesse as the younger man nods.

“Rifle against the wall, finger off the trigger.” You say as Jesse slowly rests the rifle against the wall by the front door, “Same with the pistol and knife,” You say as he pulls the two both slowly out of his holsters and places them on the small table next to the door. “Sit.” You point at the couch in front of you and he slowly walks over there and takes a seat. One still holding the rifle you bring the other to the holster on the back of Tommy’s jeans pulling out the revolver opening the chamber emptying the bullets as they hit the floor, then you grab the hunting knife in his front pocket and put it in yours. Shoving the gun to his back to get him to move he too joins the younger boy on the couch the two with their hands up now defenseless with no weapons even their packs away from them. You could see both of their features, the older of the two with long black hair that was slightly pushed back from his face, and a decent mustache on his face, the younger boy with shaggy black hair as well that was hidden under a hat. They looked well fed while you had barely gotten by with the rations you have and the hunting. Their clothes as well looked clean, dusted with snow, but catered for their bodies while you wore a mismatch of different gendered clothes that you had to alter to adjust to yourself.

“Are there others with you two?” You ask your rifle aimed at the two as they look at you, they couldn’t see your features, a hat covers your hair, and the lower half of your face is hidden underneath the scarf that slightly muffles your voice but it’s filled with venom and lacks any hesitation to put a bullet in each of their heads.

“It’s just us,” The older man, Tommy speaks for the two, “We’re part of a community, lots of people, we have food, power, safety, if you want to come-”

“I’m not going fucking anywhere.” You say harshly your weapon more focused on the older man as he raises his hands higher to show he’s not going to try anything, “Does anyone else know about this place?” You demand and Tommy shakes his head.

“Only us, look we’ll get out of here and you’ll never see us again.” The man says and your silence only lets them brew with many questions and fears the main one being, are there leaving here alive? You should just kill them and end the discussion, how could you trust them that they weren’t going to come back? You would have to fucking leave and start all over again. You could head more north, hit Canada, and start over there. Your finger rests on the trigger as you stare at Tommy and you curse under your breath for what you were about to do.

“Get up.” You order as the two men stand and you usher them towards the front door that brings you out to the porch the sunset streaming an orange glow against the untouched snow. “If I see any of you or any of your people I won’t hesitate to fucking kill you.” You threaten as the men move to their horses, grabbing the hunting knife that was the man from your back pocket and chucking it as it lands in the snow before them.

“Best get moving, you don’t wanna be out in the dark here.” A mixture of a threat and advice as Tommy moves forward picking up the lone knife that is meant to protect the two men as they saddle up. Your weapon is still trained on the two as they take off and you make sure they are past the ridge waiting out there a full five minutes. You even climbed the hill rifle in hand expecting them to be waiting there to take you down but, you saw nothing but the tracks leading away and the empty plains and forest surrounding you.

Closing and locking the door you collect the new weapons resting your rifle on the coffee table as you take into account the equipment. They were of much better quality than the hunting rifle you called yours. It was here when you stumbled upon this place used to kill the previous owner you assumed he was tired of living in this fucked up world and wanted the easy way out. Your nerves felt heightened with that interaction, you can’t even remember the last time you saw a person though infected don’t count. Someone that speaks and has thoughts but can be manipulative and kill you if you let your guard down.

The night is eerie as you eat one of the rabbits the other gutted and strung to preserve for your next meal and use the fur for other uses. The rifle laid across your lap as you eye the front door, the back door of the home now barricaded by the old heavy bookshelf you pushed down the hall to block it. You hadn’t felt this on guard in months and maybe this is why people had appeared in your small sanctuary. You would rather deal with infected showing up here than actual people. Sleep wasn’t going to come to you your nerves were shot and the adrenaline from early kept you awake. Sitting on the couch silently waiting to take down whoever might try to get you until your lids grew heavy and your head slumped over sleep taking over.

The people of Jackson especially those who were close and dear to the Miller brother and the family and friends of the younger boy Jesse waited anxiously for their return. They were meant to return before sunset now dark and the older Miller brother paces the gate where he watched his brother leave. Joel was ready to steal a horse and go out and look for Tommy but here he was being stopped by his sister-in-law and his surrogate daughter.

“Jesse and him are alright Joel, there has to be a reason for them to be held back.” Maria tries to calm the quickly growing anxious brother her being better at hiding her fears of the location of her husband and the father of their child.

“They should have been here hours ago. Before sunset he said, it’s been three hours past that!” Joel didn’t mean to raise his voice but the nerves and fear of losing another member of his family to great for him. His hand clutches his watch the memories associated with it his only reminder of what he lost. Maria rests a hand on the man’s shoulder,

“He’ll be alright Joel, have faith in them. If they aren’t back in another hour I won’t stop you from going off and looking for him.” The leader of the community offers and the older man nods but before he can start coming up with a gameplan someone from the watch towers of the large gates calls out.

“They’re back!” Joel felt a sigh of relief leave his body and he could even see the woman release her own tension. He watches the gates open as the two men enter the town Joel instantly notices the lost weapons and their packs gone. He and Maria go over to Tommy as he slides off the horse letting it be taken away by a stablehand and Jesse is greeted by Ellie and one of her friends, Dina.

Maria hugs her husband her hands cupping the man’s face looking for any injuries, “Are you alright? What took you both so long.” She asks as Joel looks over his brother and he could see the thoughts running through his head.

“What did you see Tommy?” Joel asks and Tommy looks over at his brother and his hand reaches for the knife he was given.

“There’s someone out there!” Jesse says coming over to Ellie and Dina not far behind. Tommy gives the younger boy a look before sighing and nodding, “We were doing the normal patrols checking the towers and went a bit further and we found a cabin. Thought it was going to be deserted, maybe find some supplies or anything but it seemed we stumbled on someone’s home.” Tommy explains and Maria looks more frantically for any injuries but he waves her off.

“We’re fine, they only took our weapons and packs. Could have killed us but they let us go.” Tommy explains he could picture your eyes cold and expressive, but they seemed young but harden by the world around them all.

“So we go after them, we kick that guy’s ass, and get the gear back!” Ellie says and Tommy shakes his head same with his brother who gives a quick scold of her name.

“Told us if anyone of us shows up there again they wouldn’t hesitate to kill us, we just leave it. They stay where they are we keep away and that’s final.” Tommy explains and Maria nods.

“Come on it’s been a very stimulating day. I will let the council know of this so we can avoid that location on patrols.” Maria says and the people bid their goodnights as Jesse is brought home with his family Dina following with as the Millers plus Ellie stay together.

Joel looks over at his brother seeing the conflict in his eyes, “You alright there Tommy?” The man perks up before slowly nodding,

“Yeah...you know I offered them to come here…a lot safer than being out there all alone,” The man sighs scratching his cheek, “They said they were better off there.”

Joel nods patting his brother’s shoulder as they make their way to their respective homes, “Maybe it was for the best.” Tommy nods his hand grasping the hunting knife just remembering those eyes. He couldn’t shake the familiar feeling off them.

“Maybe..”

Weeks passed the winter was harsh for the people of Jackson but with the heated water and the power that was put through the community, they would push through. Both Miller brothers saddle up for their patrol ready to check on the communication towers with the large amount of snow that had come down on them this past week they needed to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary. On their horses just waiting for the earlier patrol to arrive so they can head off. Tommy and Joel turn to the gates as Jesse and William his most current pairing for patrols come flying in on horses.

“Tommy!”

Jesse yells coming beside the man on his horse, “I know you said to avoid the cabin and we did,” Jesse says trying to catch his breath as the older man tries to start scolding him when he heard about the cabin, “But from one of the trails you can see straight at it and it’s just cover in smoke…and there was blood everywhere.”

The four men went off after Jesse and William had cleared they were good to head out again and show them as the four horses raced through the snow, Tommy wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. You were a complete stranger, one that did almost kill them when they first met. But it was this gut feeling he couldn’t ignore as they reached the ridge and he sees the cabin, part of it has thick black smoke though it looks like nothing was on fire anymore.

“Stay alert,” Tommy warns all of them with their rifles or pistols as they depart from the horses. Moving towards the house the front porch steps is drenched in blood and the snow around it from the man dead on the steps a bullet obliterating his skull. Looking at the three other men signaling Jesse and William to check the back as he and Joel enter through the front. Once the two men disappeared around the wall he turns to his brother as the two stood on opposite sides of the door before they enter. The stench of death and the burning smell. Part of the roof was caved in smoking planks of wood leaving an open hole in the ceiling. They had to immediately climb over a body that is slumped over at a hatchet embedded in the man’s chest. The place was in a state of disaster a clear fight took place there. Furniture flipped, blood, and bulletholes everywhere. The couch Tommy remembers sitting at is flipped over and a man laying half on it and there are multiple stab wounds to his neck and chest area. A wheeze fills the air and the two men turn their weapons finding a woman against one of the walls her face sweaty from the clear blood loss she sustained from the knife still in her chest. Her eyes glazed over blood spilling freely from her mouth, “f…fuck..ing an..animal..” Her final words as she slumps over and the two men look more cautious. There’s no way you did all this. A thump comes from the bedroom as they turn to face the hallway, seeing the backdoor blocked by the large bookcase. Moving down checking each of the rooms leading there the violence only grew more. In the bathroom, a man lies in a puddle of blood his face caved in from the porcelain sink that is broken around him. Standing in front of the bedroom door Joel’s hand grabs the handle counting before pushing it open. He’s lucky he didn’t walk straight in as a bullet fires splintering the door and the wall between the two men.

“Fuck..” A very feminine voice groans as an item is dropped and the two men enter finding the destruction of the room. Two bodies are dead one at the foot of the bed and the other on the bed his blood soaking the sheets. On the floor in the corner with a clear shot to whoever enters the room. Tommy hadn’t known what his almost killer plus savior had looked like, everything was hidden by heavy winter clothes, and the only thing to show were your eyes and parts of your brows. He had truly thought you were a man. But with minimal layers, this fight probably happened when you were home, he’s staring at a girl…a very young girl for the fact. But also the fact he thought he was staring at a carbon copy of the man beside him looking exactly in shock and confusion as his brother.

You see two men before you one you recognize as the man you let go, Trevor or whatever the fuck his name was. The other next to him you’ve never seen but the two did look like similar brothers maybe. The revolver is aimed at the Travis guy you do know and you see the older man raise his rifle at you while the man with the gun pointed at him makes no move with his own. “I fucking told you I would kill you if I saw you again.” You hiss trying to shift your weight letting a hiss from the burning pain in your side. Thomas looks down at your side and sees your hand pressed against it blood soaking the fabric.

“You’re hurt.” He takes a step forward and your finger rests on the trigger while the other man has a clear shot at you, “Drop the gun girl.” The older man hisses and you barely glance at him as you speak.

“You’re in my fucking house dickwad don’t tell me shit.” You say before you open the chamber showing there are no bullets left, “If you’re here to get your shit back, it’s all gone or used to kill this fuckers.” You wave the empty gun to show the damaged room and the two bodies that are with you.

“Like I said before, get the fuck out of here and let me die in peace. Better yet toss me a bullet and let me finish the job.” You spat leaning your head back against the wall, waiting to hear them leave or maybe give you a way to bite the bullet. A sudden rise in pain as a pair of hands clutch your wound and your eyes widen as you look at Tristian put his hands on your wound with what looks like actual bandages.

“What the fuck?! Get…the fuck…of me!” You hiss trying to push him off as he only puts more pressure on your wound. “Should’ve fucking…killed you!”

“Shut up, tryin’ save your damn life.” He says as you glare right back at him, “Joel get the horses she’s coming back to Jackson.”

“No, I’m not!” “Tommy?!” You and this Joel guy yell at the same time as Tommy continues putting pressure on your wound as you struggle more against him, “How do you know if she’s not infected?”

“Do I look fucking infected dumbass?” You say and the man glares at you, “Watch your mouth kid.” Joel glares at you and you glare right back.

“Suck my dic-” “Hey!”

Tommy yells silencing the two of you. “You’re fucking bleeding from your side, so it’s either we leave you and maybe the guys you killed have buddies that come after you and you figure out if you can take them,” He says giving you a look, “Or you can come back to Jackson and stay alive. Your choice.” Tommy looks at you as you’re silent.

“Get the fucking horse, Joel.” You spat and Tommy sighs in relief as the older man glares at you, “You don’t tell me shit.” “Think I just fucking did.”

“Jesus Christ! Stop talking either of you,” Tommy says shutting you both up as your glares both enough to kill the other if looks could kill, “Joel please get the horses.” The man gives one last look before heading out of the room. Tommy looks back at you looking at your wound. You would get better treatment when they return but this would be the best he could give you. Tommy helps you to your feet and you groan in pain your hand pressing to your stomach he has one of your arms thrown over his shoulder as he starts leading you out of the room.

You’re semi-dressed for the weather not as good as he would like it but he grabbed a coat by the doorway slinging it over your shoulders to give you some warmth. The frigid air and brightness of the snow reflect off the snow as you move past the body at the doorway and the steps seeing the four horses as Joel holds two of them and two other men are standing there one you recognize from before as he watches you.

“The fuck you looking at.” You growl as the boy and the man snaps their gaze away from you as Tommy curses under his breath.

“Maria’s gonna kill me.” He could already think of the fight that is going to happen when he gets back. They already had to deal with Ellie and the sailor of a mouth she has plus the intensity of Joel but it seemed like you were both of them put together and then times that by twenty. Reaching the horse Tommy climbs on first before reaching for your free hand as he pulls you up as you groan in pain your teeth grinding trying to muffle your sounds of pain. You felt breathless and out of energy from just that, Tommy has one hold of your arm to his front while your other holds your wound. “Alright let’s go!” He yells and the horses take off as your face presses against his back trying to focus on your breathing. In for five…hold for four…out for five. Repeat. It was the only thing you could focus on as the world around you blurred. Leaving your destroyed sanctuary behind to wherever Jackson is.

The ride is intense each bump in the road makes you grip the man’s hand hard as a flash of white light covers your vision. You weren’t sure how long you were awake or did you daze, until you found hear Tommy in front of your speaking but everything sounded underwater. “The gates are just ahead kid. Hold out just a bit.”

A garble of words is slurred back to him as he spurs the horse faster and he squeezes your hand in reassurance though he only feels your cold ungloved hand. They reach the gates as they open, Jesse, William, and Joel coming off their horses quickly while Tommy slows down. “We’re here kid, you’re gonna be alright.” He says when he feels your grip on his hand weaken before he turns seeing you slipping off the horse your eyes rolled back. 

“Joel!” He yells to his brother grabbing your shirt to try to stop your fall but your sleeve rips. His brother comes at the right moment to catch the top half of your body and the two of you hit the ground your head protected from the ground. Tommy is off the horse before the two of you as Maria and others quickly join seeing the patrol returned with an addition.

“Christ Tommy. What the hell did you do?!” Maria yells as her husband presses his hands onto your side as he shouts out for the town doctor. “I’ll explain everything once she’s tended to.” He says and he sees your eyes slowly flutter open and he’s drawn back to you.

“Hey, kid keep those eyes open. I’m getting you help. Just need you awake..umm, tell me the year? You got a name kid?” He promises as you look at him in pain as he waits for a name. “bite…me.” You say before darkness quickly takes over as you hear a final curse.

You felt rested which was weird and the pain in your side was less of a constant screaming pain to a dull feeling. Shifting feeling the slight comfort of a mattress as you slowly blink your eyes open and you hear shuffling coming from the other side of the room. What looks like a younger-looking lady as she goes through cabinets before she comes over to a metal tray in her hand she places it on a small medical table she doesn’t seem to notice your conscious staring. Where the fuck were you…you remember the cabin..the fight...then it was a blur you remember voices and someone holding you but you weren’t sure what was real or not. You see the lady pick up a needle filling it with something and she turns away from the briefest of seconds and you strike. Snatching the metal tray you swing it as it collides with her head and she drops to the ground. Moving off the bed you bring your hand to your shirt lifting it and see a clean bandage covering your side instead of the old cloth ones you were forced to work with. A groan from the injured woman makes you move. Reaching the doorway you snatch the coat off the rack and the cold air sends a shiver down your body. Slipping your arms in the thicker coat flipping the hood over your head. Taking in your surroundings seeing people milling about though you avoid their gazes. You take in the streets, no run-down buildings…or ration lines. This wasn’t the QZ this didn’t even look like a Fedra run area. You almost stopped to take in the large pine tree covered in lights of a collage of colors and the top of a large star. What the hell was this place?

“What do you mean she got out?” A voice yells out and you quickly lean against a wall to make yourself unnoticeable. From your peripheral, you could see two men walking frantically down the street as they stop a bit before you.

“Look Claire said she wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, and I was going to ask Jesse to keep an eye on her. Didn’t expect her to wake up and give the poor girl a concussion!” The familiar voice says as you see the man with long black hair rack his fingers through the tendrils in stress. The other man with shorter brown hair that was greying and a salt-and-pepper beard. His hands are on his hips as he shakes his head.

“Okay we watch the gates, she would only head for the exits if she plans on running. Have everyone on the alert, we don’t know if she might try to cause harm to anyone here.” The man says,

“Joel she’s a kid, not some rabid animal.” The younger man says and the older one, Joel crosses his arms with a glare on his face, “Tommy you saw that cabin, she did that herself and already seems to be proving us right.” Joel says and you try moving past them just act casual and keep heading down the main road. If you can get to a gate before they can spread the news you’ll be home free.

You had only made the mistake of glancing back at the pair making direct eye contact with Joel as he is mid-sentence before he stops his eyes widened seeing you staring back at him a few feet away from him. You’re just a few seconds short of dodging him as a strong hand grips your wrist before you can run. Your hand whips out a large crack filling the air as it makes contact with his face. Joel stumbles back clutching his nose with a curse as you dart, racing through the streets shoving past people as they yell at your retreating figure and you can hear the chase behind you. Sprinting into what looks like a hall, multiple pairs of eyes meeting yours as you bust through the doors looking like a madman before sprinting towards the large double doors that lead to the kitchen. You hear the doors open as Tommy and Joel yell at you to stop. The kitchen is busy as you shove past people looking back and seeing the two in the room with you. Seeing a tower of crates filled with plates. You grab them pulling them as you run past they crash to the floor stopping the two men in their tracks. Seeing the emergency exit sign you break through reaching outside as you sprint through the snow-filled streets. Lungs on fire, your side burning as you slide in the snow picking yourself up as you turn the corner and see the sign Rancher Street. Spotting the first house you see sprinting up the porch your hand grabs the door ready to break it down when it swings open as you tumble inside. Slamming the door behind you catching your breath as you survey the home. It looks like a normal home, clean but cluttered showing it was lived in. Your mind already running on the ruthless fighter side you had to protect all these years.

“Joel?” A girl’s voice calls out from upstairs as you freeze, “You home already old man.” The sarcasm in her voice as you see a girl bound down the stairs expecting the gruff older man but sees a girl slightly older still covered in blood and grime. The two of you stare at each other and her hand slowly moves to her pocket but you strike first. Your fist slams against her face stars filling the girl’s eyes as she pulls out the switchblade trying to stab at you but you grab her wrist as she pushes forward with a yell. The blade slashes out catching you in your face as the two of you collide against a table it moving with force. She puts her weight as she tries to bring the knife through your chest it digging into your skin and gritting your teeth in pain, Holding her back with one hand the other scrambles behind you, your fingers brushing against a glass vase curling around it and slamming it against the girl’s face. She cries out pulling back as the shards create scratches as you tackle her to the ground she lets out a gasp the wind knocked out. Seizing the weapon a struggle as the roles are reversed and the blade inches closer to her neck.

The main door kicks open and Joel and Tommy heard a scream coming from down the street from his own home. Rage fills the older man seeing the stranger pinning down his injured daughter with a knife dangerously close to her. Grabbing you by the hair ripping an animalistic shriek as he throws you into the wall. The knife flies from your hand when you hit the corner of the wall, your back seizes and you feel a rip in your side. A hand grabs your throat pulling you to stand as you try to fight back but your legs are pinned the same with your arms held in his tight grasp that would bruise in his free hand that is choking you out.

“Joel!” The two voices behind him yell out as he pins this teen to the wall ready to finish her off for daring to assault Ellie. “Joel stop I’m fine!” The younger girl calls out despite the scrapes and quickly forming bruises but was more worried about the man choking the life out of the girl.

“Joel.” Tommy's warning voice as the red filter in front of him begins to fade as he’s left staring at a young girl her teeth barred her face slightly red from the lack of oxygen. He steps back and you drop to the ground gasping for air your hand lightly touches your throat. Your other hand lifts your shirt cursing under your breath seeing the popped stitches bleeding through the bandage. “Up kid.” You hear Tommy say as you glare at him before spitting at his feet. The man sighs as the door opens revealing there are two more men. Your body reacts trying to run but Joel still bleeding from the nose but which had started to clot up grabs you by the arm as the two men grab you by each arm.

“Fuck you.” You snarl as you thrash in the men’s arms as they pull you out of the house, people from other houses family of all ages watch the event as you bare your teeth at them as they pull their children closer to them in fear. You are silent letting them force walk slash drag you to what you find out is their town jail.

The place was empty probably not needing any use until now, you’re thrown into a cell as the door close. There’s a concrete bench/bed built into the wall and nothing else as you shove yourself into a corner giving them no other way to come at you. The only passage of time is the small window high up on the wall and the bleeding from your side that was once a spilling red to now clotted up with the bandage. The small wound on your chest had stopped bleeding and didn’t need any treatment. They didn’t seem to think to leave someone to watch confident nothing would happen and you had to admit they were right. No amount of jumping for the window that you knew you couldn’t squeeze your body through or shaking the metal door hoping it was not fully locked. The cold room comforted you as you picked at the blood and dirt from under your nails when you heard the sound of footsteps.

Looking up seeing Tommy leaning against the back wall and a woman with dark skin pulls up a chair from the wall and takes a seat. Folding her hands in front of her as she looks at you seeing the cut on your face from the girl’s knife and the quickly forming bruise around your neck. “You’re lucky Joel didn’t shoot you back there.” The woman says and you roll your eyes looking away from her.

“Yeah let me go thank him for almost suffocating me instead of shooting me.” You spat before leaning, “Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna open this cell and fuck off.”

“You don’t get to make the decision here.” You shot up grabbing the bars your face pressed against the bars.

“Open this fucking door!” The bars rattle with your pulling as the woman makes no reaction to the murderous look on your face.

“Did you tell anyone about us?” She says as you push back, “Fuck you.”

“You’re just increasing your stay here with the backtalk. Now did you tell anyone about this place?” The woman questions.

“I didn’t tell anyone shit! There’s fucking no one to tell.” You yell throwing your hands up in the air as she watches you before speaking up again.

“How old are you,” “85.” You say not to give up any information as she gives you a look.

“What’s your name?” “Princess fucking Diana.” You spat and she smirks as she leans back crossing her arms.

“How about this, you tell me what I want to know, and I’ll tell you what you need to know,” She offers as you lean against the wall across from her. “Okay, my name is Maria Miller, and this is my husband Tommy.” She points to Tommy who is behind her. “Now you. What’s your name?” You’re silent before offering your name,

“Y/n.”

Maria nods, glad to at least get something, “Nice to meet you Y/n. How long have you been living in that cabin?”

You shrug flexing the bruised knuckles from your fight earlier, “ I don’t know…’bout a year now. Now you answer my questions.” She shakes her head,

“I only have one last question. You have absolutely no one going to look for you. No parents…family..anyone that might be coming for you.” She says and she notices the sudden frown that appears on your face and the loss of snark and bite at the mention of parents. It was the small crack in the harsh mask you put it but the topic seemed to strike hard and strike deep.

“No.” Your voice is rough your body still your hands balled in fists, “No one’s coming.” Your gaze avoidant you felt uncomfortable and embarrassed as if the truth of a lack of parents would make the older woman laugh at you. It made your skin crawl with how easily it affected you feeling the little girl crawling to come out but you shove it away the harsh look covers your face. “Can I ask my fucking questions now?” You ask and Maria nods waving her hand for you to speak.

“Why did you even bring me? Let me leave. I didn’t ask for your fucking help. You don’t even have to give me anything just let me go back to the cabin and you’ll never see me again.” You say, just have them point you in the direction of your home and you’ll make it on foot. You felt uneasy here, these people were clean and fed, and they looked normal, unlike yourself and the people you’ve seen in your lifetime. Maria is silent before she sighs shaking her head,

“I can’t do that.” You step close to the bars as she speaks, “Those raiders are part of a larger group, they’ve probably been following you for days before they decided to strike. Coming here there is the possibility they might come after you in revenge. You already know too much about Jackson and we can’t risk you revealing anything about this place.” She stands as your hands grasp the bars.

“None of them are gonna come after me! I told you what you wanted to know! Let me the fuck out!” You yell as she looks at you the rage written across your face, “You fucking told me you’d let me go!” Maria moves towards the door her husband following behind her as you shake the bars screaming at them, “You fucking bastards! Let me out of here! You can’t fucking do this! Let me go! Fucking let me go!” The two leave as you move back against the corner sliding down to the ground, holding your head in your hands.

Your luck had run out and you had no idea what you were going to do to get out of this one.

[pedge-page]

Joel dealing with preggo wife #7. 5 Special where Joel DOES get you the dog

Decided Olive from the Esquire shoot will be Spoon because LOOK AT THAT PRECIOUS BABY

Notes: Joel's wifu is never not gonna be pregnant but hypothetically this is a snippet if Joel does decide to follow through after his promise in part 7. Again, not part of main timeline or series but would take place in future after the baby is born:

- - - -

Flash forward after your pregnancy, when your healthy little girl is already over one-year-old and Joel can just now barely trust Tommy to babysit her without assistance …

True to his word, Joel brings you to the local pound. You bounce giddily in the passenger seat of the truck with more energy than you’ve had in the last 18 months.

"Ya know, you're almost more excited to get a dog than when we brought our own baby home."

"Gee I wonder if it had anything to do with a 9 hour labor and then splitting my vagina apart, not sleeping for 3 days and then having to wear a pad the size of Africa as she cried the entire ride home?"

He shivers at the thought, remembering how your temper due to sleep deprivation was at its worst yet. "Yeah. Yeah good point."

 You both peruse through the sad, shaking little animals behind the serilized gates, and you almost want to burst into tears and leave. But he takes your hand and you both listen closely as the handler explains each story. How they were rescued, their recovery stories, certain needs and comforts, whether they’d be comfortable with children.

You find one who’s chipper to have an audience today, eagerly sniffing you through the gate and wagging his tail.

“Oh, Joel!”

Joel glances at the clipboard on his cage, noting the name: Tommy. 

“Hell no.”

“Oh come on, he’s perfect! Already part of the family!”

“Aint letting a dog named after my brother lick your face, hump your leg, and steal you away from me every night. No way.”

The handler comes over and apologies: “Tommy actually already has a family coming to pick him up tomorrow, so he’s not available.”

“Ha!” Joel puts his hands on his hips with a sassy head tilt. “Good—for the dog of course,” he adds to the annoyed handler.

 Then Joel finds an anxious little dog whos previous owner had died with no one to look after her. You two sit in the room for a while, quiet and calm and patient until the mut finds the courage, tail tucked between her legs, to rest her chin on your knee. You come in and visit Spoon, as she's appropriately named given how much she likes to conform to your leg and rest, every day for the week before you're absolutely sure she's coming home. And just like that, you two adopt her into the Miller house.

At first Spoon isn't sure of the new home, and especially unsure of the interesting smells coming from the small human in the crib but eventually she quietly relaxes.

Joel was pretty quick to establish rules that would be absolute BS.

"No dog on the couch" well that went out the window week 1. "No dog on the bed" yeah fuck that by week 3. "No food of the plate" bitch you JUST saw him give her the rest of his lasagna.

You had to scold him about giving her too much shit food for her health.

By week four, you started to notice that Spoon is taking a real liking to Joel.

More than she likes you. And Joel is eating it up. Belly rubs, cuddles, even training responses are better suited with Joel than with you. Spoon pretty much only comes to you when she feels like it, never when called. Never sits for you. She's sweet, but pretty much ignores you. And it's kinda fucking--upsetting that your dog is stealing your mans.

Until you find out the dog speaks Spanish.

"That's not fair!" You shout to Joel as Spoon excellently heeds and sits to Joel's every command, tail whipping excitedly with each praise--all in Spanish.

"Its not my fault, honey."

"You KNEW"

"How would I have known?"

Ok, fair point.

And you're kinda pissed but it's so adorable watching Joel really love and train this dog--basically everything he said he wouldn't do cuz it was supposed to be "your" dog.

And while you were scared to introduce her to the baby, Spoon acted like a pro--extremely gentle, happy tamed wags as her big head and wide eyes perched on her petite feet and watched with curious quiet eyes for hours as she slept soundly. She adapted to true guard duty better than even Joel, especially when you would breastfeed, or burp her, or just sway her in your arms. Spoon watched and kept a tight perimeter that not even Joel could intercept when it was Baby duty.

Then one day on her own, while you're reading a book on the couch, Spoon drags her body over and rests on your lap. Always looks at you, presses her snout into your stomach and lies there for hours. And it's so cute, until she's preventing Joel from coming close to you, growling protectively, and keeps being a guard dog for you whether the baby was there or not.

"The hell is wrong with her?" Joel asks, being shoved off to the less-than-deseriable side of the couch.

You shrug and stroke Spoon's ears.

It's not until you go to the doctor with woozy symptoms and an upset stomach that you figure out why Spoon's behavior towards you changed:

You're pregnant again.

--

Series Masterlist

Permanent taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover

[ravensmadreads]

Do you ever think about how Joel never had the time to be truly happy? Like he never got complete happiness? When he was young he had Sarah (and also technically Tommy) so he couldn't really be wild and care free, and when he had Sarah her mom died/left and he had to raise a baby, and as the baby grew up he had to worry about providing and caring for her and raising her good, and then the world ended and she died (and he FAILED) and when he finally finally got a second chance and saved his daughter Ellie stopped talking to him, and just when he thought he could start to make things right with Ellie he died?

The only happiness Joel ever had was the bits and pieces he wrestled out between moments of despair, and honestly, that's so depressing :(

[tightjeansjavi]

The Menu | Part 5

“my body is a cage”

A/N: I wrote this in a matter of hours yesterday..and also decided to say fuck the canon timeline so <3

~word count: 4.6k~

Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel promises that he can make your pain go away. He’s a man that never goes back on his word.

Warnings: trauma responses from SA (not by Joel) mildly descriptive flashback to SA, degrading language, hurt, comfort, dark!joel, protective!joel, he’s kinda shit at communicating, but he’s trying his best for you, softish!joel, talk of the past, angst, sprinkle of fluff, intense emotional feelings, you and Joel let your guard down around one another, age gap, (Joel is in his 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s. I played around with the canon timeline a bit) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

A languid roll of condensation drips down the base of Joel’s glass that has long since been abandoned the second you fell to your knees in an unceremonious fashion between his parted thighs.

Acceptance already began to make its home again in your heart when you watched Joel slowly shake his head. It hurt, like all rejections do, but it stung a little deeper than you were willing to admit.

Joel Miller didn’t want you anymore. He’d forget about you when the dust would inevitably settle. He’d find someone else to bury his troubles into. It wouldn’t be you, and maybe that was for the better. Maybe the presence of Joel in your life was not a good thing.

It still hurts. No amount of whiskey-melded poker face could mask that.

The weight of his actions seemed to strike their mark along him as well. Another drop of moisture slid down the glass, pooling along the worn down coffee table. He blinked once, twice, swallowing the prominent lump growing in his throat. His pupils had blown wide like two shiny 8-balls. Fuck.

The blooming awkwardness reared its ugly head when a silent tear traveled down your cheekbone. Once the first one escaped, the flood gates opened.

His gut twisted and churned painfully like a stranded ship being tousled by an onslaught of unforgiving swells. He couldn’t tear his sights from your doe-eyed teary gaze. His own tears threatened to spill when you flinched from his right hand moving upwards towards your face.

His fingers quivered when they finally settled against your clammy skin. Joel Miller would never believe himself to be a gentle-touched man. Maybe a long time ago when the sun warmed his skin, and joyous laughter echoed in both ears, and his eyes were bright and full of life, but now? His kindness was reserved, locked away, buried six feet under the cold clutches of earth. The key was thrown away, forgotten and rusted away along with what remained of his tattered and bruised heart.

Here in his hold, your skin warm, soft beneath the rough calluses of his palm, he felt. He felt not just anger, but guilt, sadness, a newfound ache that was tangled up in that stupid four letter word that he would be damned to ever utter its existence again.

“Hey, it’s okay, Angel. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He reassured you, big brown eyes never leaving yours.

You had never heard this brutish man speak to you in such a sincerely soft way. There wasn’t an ilk of pity or condescendence in his tone. Nothing but concern, fear, a desperate need to ascend comfort in his words.

He was so..confusing.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, choking back a sob that died in your throat. “You—you should go, Joel.” You went to brush away his hand to crawl as far away from him as physically possible, but he wasn’t budging. He’d never leave.

“Hey, look at me.” He commanded softly. His other hand found purchase around the left side of your face. His movements were gentle and slow. He wanted to ground you, to keep your soul from being plucked up like a marionette. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You pushed and pulled against him, grinding your teeth together when he still sat unmoving. It was as if you were the unsuspecting bird, and he was the wet cement that would soon harden and fossilize around your body.

“Why?” You questioned. Your sadness had ebbed away and was quickly replaced with simmering frustration. “You don’t want me anymore, Joel. There’s nothing left for you here, so just—fuckin’ leave.” You snapped.

“Angel, I never said I didn’t want you anymore. Please stop fightin’ me. Please.” He pleaded, the rough pads of his thumbs swiped under your eyes, collecting the tears that pooled there while they awaited their time to fall.

“You didn’t need to say it, Joel. I could fuckin’ feel it.” You sniffled, falling back on your haunches in defeat.

“No, sweet girl. You’re mistaken. I swear. I’m shit at this. This whole..communicating thing has never been my forte. I’m sorry. I’m so—sorry. But somethin’ about this ain’t feel right. I—I don’t want to assume, but somethin’ happened to you. I know you don’t want to tell me, but maybe—”

“But maybe what, Joel? Why do you even care? Why all of a sudden—when you said yourself that I’m nothin’ but your whore on stilts. A tight hole to fuck whenever you please. What, did you have a sudden change of heart? Gonna manipulate me into believing that you actually care about me? Fuck you—”

“I swear on my daughters fuckin’ grave that I care about you. I am not manipulating you into believing anythin’ that is leaving my mouth, Angel. I am tellin’ you the truth. You mean somethin’ to me. Puttin’ it into words ain’t easy for a man like me, but you’re hurtin.’ You’re in pain, and I swear to god if some sick fuck put their hands on you, I’ll make sure they never see the light of day again.” He confessed fiercely.

He might as well get down on one knee and sign his life off to you in red ink. To ensure his promise to keep you safe and protected like he was some knight in shining armor.

Benji yanked you up by the scruff of your neck like you were some stray cat, or a tattered ragdoll. You felt like a bug at his mercy, awaiting a painful death of being squashed beneath a leather boot, split into a million pieces. You could hear his friends snickering in the back while they were still fisting their cocks like the disgusting hounds that they were. “Jus’ remember your place in this world, Angel. No matter what anyone tells you, you will be nothin’ but a come-stained, filthy whore. And when you return to him, like I know you will, he’ll toss you away like yesterday's trash. All men are the same, sweetheart. They don’t like it when another dog has been in their bitch.” He spat cruelly, a glob of saliva landing along your cheek.

“No, Joel. I’m nothin’ but a come-stained whore, and you’ll toss me away like yesterday’s trash.” You whispered solemnly, chin tilting downwards in disgust with what was instilled in you to be your true identity. Crestfallen tears were wept. Tears that trailed down your cheeks and rolled down the expanse of his bare wrists and forearms. Each teardrop that landed upon his skin sent his anger flaring upwards the way that smoke rises from a blazing fire.

“Who did this to you, Angel? Tell me his name, and I swear to you that I will make this all go away. Tell me the name of the man who laid his fuckin’ hands on you. Tell me, please. Please, Angel. I want to help you.” He was on the cusp of begging, hating the fear that began to douse the flames. The fear that maybe it was too late, and the damage was done already.

Your eyes slowly meet his, rimmed in red, skin puffy and dry. From just the look alone that you gave him, he knew who had done this to you. He knew the second your lips parted, and uttered the name that sent the beast inside of him awakening once more.

“Benji.”

The dam broke the moment his name left your lips; you crumbled. An echo of gut wrenching, broken sobs tumbled out of you as Joel scrambled to keep you together. He was on the floor with you now, cradling you in his arms while struggling to gather up the broken pieces figuratively scattered around him. It was as if you were loose grains of sand, and no matter how many times he scooped you up into his gentle palms, you kept slipping through the cracks.

You found yourself crawling into his lap, straddling his hips with your arms latched around his neck. You anchored yourself around him while his shirt soaked up your heavy flowing tears like a sponge. His arms were around you like a cage, comforting you the only way he knew how; through touch. One large hand came to cradle the back of your head, while the other rested along the curve of your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin with the rough pads of his fingertips.

It’s okay, Angel. I have you. You’re safe. I promise.

and through your tears, and your aching, you wanted to believe him. But believing and trusting someone never came easy. Especially in this world. To throw all your eggs into one basket would be considered foolish. Since the night of the outbreak you had convinced yourself that you needed no one. Not a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to confide in. You hadn’t sought for human connection till you crossed paths with Joel Miller. And now you felt guilty for webbing him into your life. For making this mountain of a man feel.

Was it intentional? No. But sometimes we lose all sense of control and ultimately find ourselves giving into that thing that we fear the most. In all retrospect, you had tried to push Joel away from you, but he was a stubborn man. The most stubborn person you had ever met. A whole lotta bark and bite. Fearless until he gave into feeling. Unmoving until he began to feel for you. The girl that was just looking for a vice to fill a void, and instead found a man that would quite literally kill for you. He’d lasso the fucking moon and bring it down to you if you asked. He’d be your friend, your shoulder to cry on, your comfort in the odd hours of the night when the nightmares would creep in.

He’d be your laughter, your anger, your sadness. He’d be whatever the fuck you wanted him to be. That was the thing about men like Joel Miller, they were fiercely loyal to the ones they loved to the point where maybe he was the foolish one. Maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew. And if that were the case, he’d lick his wounds, convince himself that he was okay, and move on until his body would ultimately give way to the grief he carried day in, and day out.

“Will you let me take care of you, Angel?” He asked suddenly, so softly you could barely hear him through the thick of your messy tears.

“If you wish it.” You sniffled, cheek pressed firmly against the damp fabric of his shirt where your tears had soaked through.

He rumbled a sigh, nostrils flaring while he tilted his chin down to take a peek at your current state. He’d never seen you look so tiny, frail, curling into yourself like a mouse shriveling from a house cat on the prowl. His latent caretaker instincts were kicking into full drive after the dust had been blown off of them and wafted through the stagnant air.

“C’mon, sweet girl.” He urged in a gentle tone, strong arms tightening their hold around you while his hands gently hoisted you up by your thighs. His knees creaked and groaned from carrying the weight of himself and you to a standing position. You clung to him still in a koala like fashion.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked unsurely.

“Takin’ you to the bathroom so we can wash the pain away.” He replied quietly.

His footsteps are soft, yet calculated while his hands stay secured around your thighs. He uses his shoulder to push open your flimsy bathroom door. You find yourself sitting along the toliet seat, back resting against the wall with your hands in your lap. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails absentmindedly. You flinch slightly when the sharp edge of your nail tears through dry cuticle skin surrounding your thumb. The sting feels nice, calming in a sense.

Your eyes stay focused on the wall even when the shadow of his silhouette looms over you, and his warm palm suddenly engulfs your own.

“Don’t do that.” He whispers, brows furrowed when he notices the bead of blood on the side of your thumb. “You have beautiful hands, Angel. Don’t go’n ruin ‘em.” He means every word.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can really say.

He slips his fingers through your own and you can feel every ridge and rough callus through his skin. His thumb strokes the outside of your hand in a tender sweep.

You want to cry, but you don’t. Instead you lean your head back against the wall and close your eyes while the sounds of the water sloshing into the tub drowns out your thoughts.

With his freehand he constantly checks the temperature of the water to make sure it’s not too hot, and not too cold. The last thing he wants to do is shock your system. He glances up at your face for a moment before he focuses on his blurry reflection in the rippling water.

How can I make her pain go away?

It's not something that will ever go away. It becomes bearable, but with time. All you can do is be there for her the best way that you can. He reminds himself.

“Angel.”

Your eyes snap open at the sound of his voice ringing in your ears.

So it wasn’t all a dream.

“Uh..the water should be good now. Do you want some privacy? I don’t—need to be in here with you..I understand if you—” he’s stumbling over his words more than he intended to, but this is uncharted territory for him, and he’s unsure.

“No.” You finally speak, “I want you to stay.”

He breathes; relieved for a moment. “Okay, I’ll stay. Do you..want some help?” He’s referring to your clothes and if you require assistance in undressing.

“Please.”

He nods reassuringly before standing up to his full height from where he was kneeling alongside the tub. “Arms up.” He softly requests while he reaches for the hem of your shirt.

Your body works strictly on autopilot, boneless as you lift your arms above your head so it’s easier for him to pull your shirt up.

His wounded knuckles brush gently against your sides when he begins to lift the fabric from your body slowly. Gooseflesh begins to rise when you're exposed to the room temperature air. Your hands instinctively move to cover your modesty and he pretends to not notice the way you immediately fold in on yourself.

It hurts him to see you in such a state as this, but his feelings do not matter, he reminds himself. Yours are far more important than his own.

He waits for your consent to pop the button of your jeans followed by the zipper. His eyes stay locked on your own when he begins to ease the worn denim down your thighs. There’s two gaping holes in the fabric around your knees that weren’t there before. He begins to feel the bile rise before he forces it back down.

You're trembling by the time he reaches for the elastic waistband of your tattered panties and he finds himself freezing in place when your hands snatch his wrists frantically.

“I won’t take them off, okay?” He reassures you. “I promise.”he adds for good measure.

You trust him, and that scares you, but it’s enough for you to release his wrists from your death grip.

“Turn around, please.” You croak out, still struggling to find your voice.

He doesn’t protest, or say mean things, or make you feel ten times smaller than you already felt. He obliges your request silently.

You wait until his back is facing you before you pull your panties down over your thighs. You catch a glimpse of a maroon saturated stain that will be forever tattooed in the flimsy fabric. You want to sob, but instead you drop the material to your ankles and discard them with the rest of your tattered clothing.

He doesn’t turn around to look at you until you give him permission. By that point you were already carefully lowering yourself into the tub. He finds you with your knees protectively tucked up to your chest, folded in on yourself. A dull, sullen look glossed over in your once vibrant irises. Your eyes cast down to your reflection before staring off into nothingness once more.

“Can..I get you anything? Are you hungry? I can whip you up some soup or somethin?’” He asks while lowering himself to sit alongside the tub. He doesn’t care that his lower back pinches a bit, or his knees creak, he just wants to be there for you in any way that he can.

“Just a cigarette would be nice.” You mumble out a reply. Your eyes meet his softened gaze for a moment with your chin resting along the dip of your knee. “He took the ones that you rolled me, along with the pills, and the pistol you lent me. I’m sorry, Joel. I—I’ll pay you back.”

“Hey, you don’t have to pay me back for any of that, okay? I don’t give a fuck about the pills, and I lent you the gun and cigarettes, Angel. Don’t worry about that, okay?” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his own stash and a lighter. He leaned forward, placing the cigarette between your lips before he ignited the unlit end with the lighter.

You took a long drag, letting the smoke attack your lungs, and the nicotine ease your brain into relaxation, and calm your rising anxiety.

“Okay.” You finally speak, willing yourself to scoot closer towards the edge of the tub to ash the cigarette over the side.

“Tell me something that..makes you happy.” He catches you off guard while you take another long drag. You blow the smoke off to the side, creating a hazy cloud that soon dissipates.

“Something..that makes me happy?” You question apprehensively.

“Yes. Jus’ anythin’ that you can think of that makes you happy, Angel.” He rasps softly as he awaits your response.

“The rain. But specifically when it’s storming. I love that earthy smell after a storm. When everything smells fresh, clean, alive. I like the dreary days too. Where it rains from morning through the night. I like the sound it makes when raindrops land on the pavement, or roofs. I know it might sound silly, but when I was a kid I used to sit out on the driveway with some neighborhood friends and watch the storms roll in. Always found myself getting excited when the clouds grew darker and the wind picked up..that first flash of lighting, and rumbling thunder?” You trailed off, unsure if you said too much, or too little for his liking.

“Oh, yeah, I have to agree. Who doesn’t love a good heavy storm? Perfect sleepin’ weather too. Back in Texas we’d get some pretty wild storms out there. Flash floods and all that jazz. Didn’t matter to me cus’ I’d always sleep with the window open. My younger brother, Tommy, was afraid of thunderstorms, up until the point of me tellin’ him that we were always safe inside. Think he got over the fear by the time he was ten.” Joel found himself reminiscing on his childhood, and a simpler time that felt like a ghost to him now.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” You ashed the cigarette over the side of the tub once more before offering it to him. He declined with a slight shake of his head. You need it more than I do.

“Yeah, he’s..well, I don’t know where he’s at. Left with the fireflies a few years back. Thought he could be a hero and save the world. I send him radio messages every now and then jus’ to check up on him.” He sighed softly. His arm came to rest along the side of the tub, palm resting upwards in case you needed to, or wanted to hold his hand.

“Do you miss him?” You asked, shifting closer to him.

You could visibly see him tense from your question. Tommy was a sore spot for him, a festering wound at times. He felt resentful after everything he had done for his younger brother. The sacrifices he made to keep both of them safe from harm. But deep down he knew he couldn’t stay mad at his kin forever, but he wasn’t ready to let that resentment go just yet. He still needed to heal.

“I miss him more than I’m willin’ to admit, Angel. Not sure if he really misses me all that much.” He shrugged indignantly. “What about you, do..you have any siblings?”

He realized then that he didn’t know much about you at all. He knew your name, and your body, but he wanted to know more about what you were like before the world went to shit.

“Nope. Only child. Mom and Dad tried for another, but some things just aren’t meant to be.” It was your turn to shrug now. He caught you eyeing his outstretched palm resting along the chipped porcelain. If he had the ability to read minds, he certainly was reading yours now.

“And..your parents?” He asked, assuming the inevitable answer.

“Both dead. Car crash a couple years before outbreak. I was too young to comprehend any of it. Grandparents took me in luckily. We pretty much lived in desolation out in the middle of nowhere after that. Not much civilization out in the sticks.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” His tone is soft, baritone deep and soothing. And truth be told, you’re still confused. You can’t help it especially when you know this is the same man that just hours ago was trying to bust down your door.

Joel Miller made your head spin.

“It’s alright, Joel. No need for you to be sorry. Life sucks sometimes. It’s just something I’ve come to accept.”

He nods affirmatively. Life does suck sometimes, ain’t that the truth.

“So, where exactly are you from then? South? Midwest? West?” He couldn’t help his curiosity to know more. He didn’t expect you to be an open book by any means, but he’d take anything you’d give him.

“Montana. Grandparents owned a horse ranch out there. Real peaceful, open country, fresh air.”

“Ah, so a real country girl then? Well, guess you and I are closer than we originally thought, huh? How’d you end up all the way in Boston?” He stretched his arm out slightly when it had grown stiff from the position it had been in.

“If you consider Texas and Montana to be close, then sure, cowboy.” There was a glimmer of sass in your tone. Just enough to cause his ears to perk up. “Honestly, after the outbreak, things just turned into one big blur for me. It’s like I had to grow up overnight. Grandpa taught me how to use a shotgun, killed my first infected shortly after that. Grandma was the first to fall, and Grandpa followed a year later. I stayed in the ranch for as long as I could, fendin’ for myself. Was only a matter of time before raiders became a problem, and I packed a bag, took a horse, and headed east.”

Joel was having a hard time comprehending just how young you truly were when the world as you knew it turned to shit. You were just a kid, a little girl fending for yourself. When he realized you were just about Sarah’s age, he didn’t know how to process that newfound information either.

“You were..just a kid when this all happened.” He nearly whispered in disbelief at the thought of a younger version of yourself, strapped with her grandpa's shotgun, and nothing but open country to trek through.

“I was.” You confirmed. “I’m sure this is just my brain blocking all the bad shit out, but I don’t remember much of what happened after I left the ranch. I guess it’s a miracle that I managed to survive this long. Guess my luck hasn’t run out entirely, huh?”

“No, it certainly hasn’t, Angel. You’ve managed to defy practically all the odds that were placed against you.”

You fall silent again, casting another look down at your reflection while the cigarette perched between middle and forefinger dies out. “What’s your favorite color, Joel?”

“Oh, so now we’re goin’ elementary?” He teases lightly in hopes to brighten your spirits just a tad. He’d kill a thousand men just to see you smile again. “I think I have to go with a shade of blue.” He decides.

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious, cowboy. You’re the one who started with the personal questions. I think knowing your favorite color is definitely considered a personal question.” You feel your lips twitch, almost as if they are trying to curve up into a smile, but it doesn’t quite happen. “And blue..like the sky?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, “blue like the ocean. But y’know..like all the shades. What about you, Angel? What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple.” “But not just any shade of purple. The kind that you can see in sunsets. It’s almost got like a pinkish hue to it? Or the purple in lavender fields. We had loads of it growing at the ranch.”

“Mm.” He hums thoughtfully, “Sunsets sure are pretty.” He’s far more relaxed now with his legs outstretched in front of him, and his chin resting along his bare bicep as he looks at you.

He asks you more questions, finding out that your favorite movies were arguably LOTR (unfortunately the third, and highly anticipated film never made it to the theaters; damn you cordyceps) and The Last Unicorn. He learned that your favorite drink of choice, before the outbreak, was either a virgin pina colada (because it tasted like the beach) or the classic kiddy cocktail; a childhood delicacy.

You learned that he and his younger brother Tommy, worked as contractors in Austin Texas, and that Joel used to be married..and he had a single daughter that he raised practically on his own. Her name was Sarah, and she died the night of the outbreak; Joel’s birthday. You also now know that his favorite movie was Curtis and Viper 2.

And through the midst of your back and forth domestic conversing, you find yourselves holding hands again. You’re not sure if he initiated it, or vice versa, but neither of you let go.

There was an unasked question that circled heavy in the air, like two vultures waiting to dive in for the kill. He could sense it just as much as you could. Addressing the elephant in the room was not going to be easy, but you were beginning to realize that Joel wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, you were shocked to find that he hadn’t climbed into that damn tub with you.

“Joel?” You ask suddenly, skin beginning to prune from being in the water for too long.

“Yes, Angel?” He’s hopeful, but realistic given the circumstances.

“Did you..mean what you said earlier? About..making this all go away?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to answer. He was not the kind of man to go back on his word. “I will make sure that he pays for what he did to you, Angel. He’ll suffer, and I’ll make him wish he was never born.” Oh, he’d make him pay alright.

“Good. I want you to kill him, Joel. And I want to be there to see you do it. I want to be right there when he takes his last pathetic breath—” you don’t even realize how hard you're squeezing his hand in your grasp that his knuckles are beginning to turn white from the pressure.

“Of course I’ll kill him for you, Angel.” That wasn't even a request in his mind. Benji would die at the hands of Joel, and you would get to watch.

and then..you told him everything.

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[days-until-burnout]

Double life. Boat boys (Romantic). Joel cries. Angst to fluff. Please do something with these words :)

i have another ask similar to this one. dl smalletho angst to fluff. the smalletho hivemind do be strong, unless youre the same person >.> anyways. here is some smalletho that... well, fluff is very open to interpretation, yes? either way, personally, it's not even suggestive. but that's your warning if you read :D _____

📧 Day 63 -

Characters - Etho/Joel Words - 741 Time - 30 mins Content - Double Life | Suggestive

What’s the difference between anger and sadness? Where is the line? If he breaks it down, Etho could potentially draw the line, separating both feelings. He could draw a line, encase each feeling on its own, isolate them and deal with one at a time. It’s an option, it’s possible—if, and that’s the important part, these feelings were his own. 

Fiery wind touches his face, a fire that burns and burns, lighting up their corner of the world. Although it has been hours, although they had brought the rest of the server down in flames, although the sun has fallen long ago, the fire keeps burning. Taking, taking every inch of the ship, of the Relation, eating at it slowly like silverfish chipping stone. It burns. Bright and hot. He doesn’t forget the water bucket in his inventory, he knows it’s there, that’s an option too. Kill the fire, make a new bed, rest tonight before sunrise. What then? A lot of things could happen tomorrow morning, their death included in the list. It’s a possibility, and it’s the end of not only his run, but something else too. Something much personal. 

An ember dies against the back of his hand, causing him to blink his eyes down. Soot covered hands, fingers still strangling the flint and steel. That, too, burns against his palm, the heat of anger, of sadness. Where is the line? What’s the difference?

He pockets the item into his pocket and feels it burning against his clothes, no fire but all the heat. Unlike the shell, the bits that remain of the ship, most of the hull gone now. His eyes flicker over it quickly, mostly uninterested in flashbacks of another precious wooden thing of his that burnt down, instead, he finds the real mess. 

Standing in front of the fire, body frozen almost catatonic, staring at the fire, the remnants of the ship, for hours. 

These feelings are not his own. This muddled mess of emotions are not his own. Joel doesn’t care to differentiate between the two. 

His soul stutters and hiccups, it sizzles like a slime ball trapped in a room of magma blocks. Bouncing on every wall, burning up yet igniting the fires with every touch, it picks up speed and makes a mess of everything over and over again. 

Feelings are not his area of expertise. But by the looks of it, neither is it Joel’s. 

His soulmate. His partner. 

Etho walks to him, and he doesn’t even flinch or react. Mesmerized, caught, cursed to stare at their home slowly slipping from their fingertips. Joel doesn’t try to hold on, letting go easily, choosing the handle of an ax instead. It’s how he returns the favor. Destruction. It’s how Joel kills his fire, destroy everything until there is nothing else to burn. An extreme method, but he lets himself be swayed, he understands and desires the same. Joel feels plenty for the both of them, cried as much too. 

His hand is ice on Joel’s face, burning skin and scorching tears, but Joel doesn’t push him away. Joel falls under shadow, Etho’s as he blocks the fire, as he centers himself in his sight, in his life. He runs his thumb from the corner of his lips almost to his jaw, once, twice, tingling skin on tingling skin. His free hand near yanks his mask off, instantly crashing his lips into Joel’s. Cold meeting heat, their souls and their bond sizzles. 

Without fight, Joel lets his body tumble back as Etho pushes them far from the fire, into the night where it’s cold and there is only one bed among chests. It shuts their minds and keeps their mouths occupied, with the benefit of keeping words unspoken. Joel doesn’t need to talk, Etho doesn’t need to talk, they just need to make the world around them burn. 

Joel falls back on the bed, ripping his lips from Etho’s, and how can he not chase? How can he not take? He practically hides him from the stars, guarding him jealously, all to himself as his lips lock on jawlines and necks, lips nipping and sucking on skin, teeth catching muscle tenderly. Hands on bodies, under clothes, each touch and kiss fuel for the fire, every breath like smoke burning skin. 

If Joel can’t separate sadness from anger, Etho smashes lust and anger in the same fire that will burn them to the ground.

_____

*checks that i mentioned 'adult' in description* *checks what i wrote on my pinned* *nods to myself* also, i mean, not that i want to alienate people from requesting or anything, but i'm not necessarily pearl-clutcher friendly, let's just say<3 if you want to specify no nsfw/suggestive, you are in all your right. it's not like it will be super common, but it can happen. and again, as per my pinned, i still reserve the right to do whatever i want<3

[hotgirlbedtimescenarios]

Wish

For the first time in years Joel acknowledges his birthday and wishes on a star. He gets pulled into the past and relives his birthday, the day that changed everything.

Words: 1.7k+

Warnings: all of the emotions. Sadness, depression, but also happy moments and hopefulness :)

*part of @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge*

Main Masterlist

---

September 25, 2033

It’s almost Joel’s birthday. Again.

Over the years, he’d let it pass without thinking about it. Losing track of the days was easy while he roamed, too caught up in trying to survive.

But now, in Jackson, time isn’t as elusive. Joel wakes up knowing that Mondays and Tuesdays are for patrolling, Wednesdays and Thursdays are for guard duty, Fridays are for helping with construction, and the weekends he keeps to himself.

The powers that be in Jackson also keep track of time, mostly for crop rotation and organizing the seasons, giving structure to the lives of its citizens. That means Joel has been aware of his birthday this year, creeping closer and bringing along memories he hates.

This year, he can’t live in blissful ignorance while it comes and goes, especially with Tommy around to remind everyone. So instead, he runs from it.

Joel walks down the soft, snowy streets of Jackson with his camping gear strapped to his back. He told Tommy he was going outside the walls tonight, making up some excuse about scouting a building that might have supplies to scavenge.

It was a lie.

Joel needed space—a place where he could wallow in solitude when the old feelings haunted him as his birthday approached.

With his gathered supplies, Joel mounts his favorite horse and rides out of the commune, waving to Tommy atop the lookout tower.

“See ya when you get back! And happy early birthday, big brother!” Tommy yells down.

Joel winces at the reminder and rides off into the distance.

---

Hours later, Joel makes his way to a familiar spot in the forest, a clearing he often visits while out on runs.

This hidden clearing, nestled deep among the trees and brush, is spacious enough for him to see the stars twinkling overhead while remaining safely concealed from any lurking dangers.

He sits by a small fire, eating his rations and gazing up at the night sky, lost in thought. He reflects on how he ended up here, all that he’s been through and all that he's done, dragging himself deeper and deeper into the pit of despair he so often finds himself drowning in.

Suddenly, something twinkles far above in the night sky, streaking across the tops of the tall oak trees.

A shooting star.

Joel had never seen one before; he had thought they had vanished like so many other pure wonders and good things in the universe. But tonight, he was wrong.

Unable to resist, Joel’s eyes follow the tiny, sparkling fragment as it glides across the sky. In that moment, he decides to be hopeful just one last time. After all, his birthday is approaching. Despite years of loathing it and skipping celebrations, maybe he deserves to make one wish.

As midnight strikes and the star falls, Joel closes his eyes and makes his wish.

He wishes to no longer hate this day. He longs to free himself from the burden of September 26th—the day he was born, but also the day he lost his reason for living, the day he lost Sarah. He wishes the memories of despair would lift from his shoulders, that things could have been different. That he could have cherished just one more birthday before everything fell apart and the world went to shit, giving him more good memories to hold onto and keep him company throughout the years.

When the shooting star fades from view and the sky darkens again, Joel feels a wave of silliness wash over him. Of course, his wish wouldn’t come true. With a sigh, he stamps out the fire, crawls into his sleeping bag, hand resting on his rifle, and drifts off to sleep.

---

September 26th 2003

Joel wakes to the sound of an alarm clock blaring.

He bolts upright, heart racing, and instinctively reaches for his gun—only to find nothing there.

As his vision clears, he realizes he’s not in his sleeping bag anymore. He’s in a bed—his bed—from thirty years ago.

Joel rubs his eyes, blinks, and even pinches himself, trying to shake off the dream, but it feels all too real.

Looking around his old room, everything is just as it was on the last day he lived there: rumpled sheets, a pile of dirty laundry in the corner, an old newspaper, and a glass of water on the bedside table.

It’s as if he’s been transported right back to 2003.

Warily, Joel gets out of bed and notices his joints don’t ache as they should. He races to the mirror attached to his dresser and takes in his features. He looks exactly as he did thirty years ago: fewer lines of age and worry, hair short and dark, no grey in sight, and far more muscular. There isn’t even a scar across his nose or temple.

Joel stares at himself in the mirror, breaths coming rapidly. It’s a dream, he tells himself, repeating it like a mantra.

But what if it isn’t? What if everything is as it’s supposed to be? A redo.

Just then, he hears something he never thought he’d hear again, and it takes all his strength not to fall to his knees.

“Daddy!” Sarah yells, her singsong voice bright and clear, just as he always remembered.

She bursts through his bedroom door, grinning from ear to ear—beautiful, whole, and safe.

“Happy birthday, you old fart!” Sarah teases.

Joel bounds across the room, scooping her into his arms.

“Babygirl,” he chokes back tears, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “You’re okay.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” she replies, her voice muffled against his chest. “Why are you being so weird?”

He doesn’t want to scare her, so he pulls himself together, trying to act like this isn’t the most magnificent moment of his life—a blessing to have another chance with his girl.

Gently, Joel loosens his grip and smiles down at her, cupping her cheeks in his hands.

“I love you so much,” he tells her.

“I love you too, Dad. I wish you didn’t have to work today. Working on your birthday is so lame.”

She’s right. That is lame. So, Joel does what he should have done the first time around: he pulls out his old cellphone and calls his boss to take the day off.

“Does that mean I get to skip school too?” Sarah jokes.

“Well, it’s only fair,” Joel says, a grin spreading across his face.

Sarah’s eyes widen. “Really?!” she squeals, excitement radiating from her.

“Why not?”

---

Joel meets Sarah in the kitchen, and together they spend the morning making pancakes and dancing to their favorite tunes. When Tommy arrives, Joel manages to talk him into skipping work as well.

“Come on, Tommy, you’ve never complained about skipping work before,” Joel teases.

“Fine,” Tommy says, his mouth full of pancake. “But when I’m short on rent this month, I’m counting on you to back me up.”

The three of them enjoy breakfast together, relishing their time as a family.

They spend the day having fun together, going to the park for Sarah to show off her soccer skills, stopping into town for ice cream on the way home, and lounging around on the couch, soaking in the quality time.

They end the day with a movie—a birthday tradition featuring "Curtis and Viper 2." This year, they even have a cake since Joel was able to skip work to pick one up.

With bellies full of sugar, Joel, Tommy, and Sarah are all sleepy-eyed on the couch, watching the end credits roll, when Sarah suddenly perks up.

“Present time!” she cheers, darting to her bedroom. Moments later, she returns with a small box in her hands.

“You got me something?” Joel asks, pretending to be just as surprised as when he first opened his birthday gift.

Sarah hands him the box and settles next to him on the couch. “You kept complaining about your broken watch, so I figured… you know.”

Joel opens the box to reveal the watch he prized above all else. He picks it up delicately, admiring the shine of the silver and the smooth, unbroken glass of the watch face.

“You like it?” Sarah asks, her voice tinged with nerves.

“Honey, this is nice,” Joel replies, tapping the watch. “But I think it’s stuck.”

“What?” Sarah exclaims incredulously. “No way! I just got it fixed—”

Joel bursts into laughter, and Tommy joins in.

“Oh ha ha, you got me,” Sarah concedes, rolling her eyes. “That was lame.”

“Where’d you get the money for this?” Joel asks, placing the watch around his wrist and snapping it into place.

“Drugs. I sell hardcore drugs.”

“Nice, kid. Real proud of you,” Joel laughs, playing along.

“Maybe you can help me out with this month’s rent then,” Tommy jokes from the other end of the couch.

“Thank you, honey,” Joel says, pulling Sarah in for a hug and kissing the top of her head. “I love it.”

Soon after, Sarah falls asleep on the couch, leaving Joel and Tommy some time together. Joel appreciates this; he’s missed his brother, and it weighs on him how their relationship has deteriorated over the years.

“Wanna go out to the bars to celebrate?” Tommy asks after a while.

“Hell no,” Joel replies. “Your ass will end up getting arrested.”

“Not fair! That only happened once!” Tommy whines.

“And it sure as hell will happen again if I don’t keep you in check.”

“Whatever,” Tommy concedes, settling back into the couch and scrolling through TV channels in search of something to watch.

“I’m gonna take her up to bed,” Joel says, nodding toward Sarah before standing and gently scooping her into his arms.

He carries his sleeping daughter to her room one last time, tucking her in with a kiss on the forehead. Instead of leaving, he wants to soak up every moment with her, as if any could be his last. So, Joel kicks off his boots and slides into bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her.

He falls asleep with a full heart and a smile on his face, grateful for the best birthday he’s ever had.

---

September 27th 2033

When he opens his eyes again, Joel wakes up on the cold, hard ground to birds chirping in a forest clearing. He should feel disappointed to be back in the present, but instead, he chooses gratitude. Grateful for the chance to relive the last moments with his daughter. Grateful for a wealth of new memories to carry with him through the years.

He realizes that maybe next year, when his birthday rolls around, he’ll remember the laughter and dancing in the kitchen with Sarah instead of the horrors that have haunted him for so long. The warmth of those moments will be a beacon, guiding him away from despair and toward hope.

With a deep breath, Joel rises to meet the day, ready to embrace whatever comes next.

[yrobdtsrv-rei]

tbh i just dont want the dsmp to be remembered in infamy for being just a server who had criminals on there. it was so much more than just a minecraft server to me, and if it means that im the only dsmp fan lying around, so be it. i like the lore. i LOVE the characters.

i dont care if some of the cc's are assholes/just vile people, im fully separating the characters from em, because, y'know what? the characters aren't the cc's, they're fictional.

i think im gonna plan a lil project, yknow, just to send a "farewell", well, not for me, im still gonna be here lmao, but to the people who're leaving/left the fandom permanently.

to make the memory of the server not tainted by whoever was exposed for doing something vile, to make the memory of the server alive.

it's to make it less bittersweet, and more happy. im happy you were here, im happy you had those memories here. don't be sad or frustrated because it's over or some shitty cc's, be happy because it happened at all. be happy for all the experiences you had in this community.

that server was purely driven by fanworks, you made that server happen, you were apart of its success, you made that little song a whole symphony. and i wish you well on your future :)

-

also, kindly fuck off if you'd like to hate on dsmp or mcyt in general because of creeps, this server wasn't only here because of them, it was the fanbase, the songs, the animations, the art, the fanfiction.

there was a story here, tons of lore throughout hundreds of hours of livestreams on twitch. a story about war, about broken friendships, about nations falling them rising back up and then falling again, about a man wanting control, about a child soldier, about an anarchist, about so, so many things.

so many former fans that have a superiority complex where they deem themselves "better" than people who left later or are still here just because they left. you arent better than any of them, you need to learn that. you just left earlier, you cant just call yourself better than any of them.

im so sick of hearing those fucking jokes with minecraft or dsmp youtubers as the punchline, this is why so many dsmp cc's distance themselves from it. not every minecraft youtuber is a terrible person, what about grian? what about tommy? what about joel? what about scar? what about lizzie? what about tubbo? are they all just bad people apparently because they're minecraft youtubers and/or associated with the dsmp or other servers? no, they arent.

have a more open mind.

WS supporters and dream team stans also kindly go fuck off (support victims btw). i support shelby, alice, niki, lexie, caiti, andi, and freddie, get out of my page, this isnt a safe space for you. get off, go on.

-

just be happy you were here in this beautiful community to begin with :D

anyway, on a lighter note

here's a lil info about my lil project: everyones gonna have new designs / outfits for it !! :D / its an animatic thing lol

(im a lil excited abt it buttt im keeping it under wraps lol)

have a wonderful day :)

[hotxcheeto]

❥ 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

"𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙠. 𝙤𝙧 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚."

❥ 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 - 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁

❥ 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

❥ Before | Angst - Ellie and reader were best friends until Joel's untimely end. After Ellie blames you, you have no choice but to deal with it. Now, you have patrol with her, until you just so happen to meet the same end as the man before.

❥ Faces of the Past | Angst + Fluff - You hadn't seen your sister or anyone from your past in years. Deciding to let that part of you fall away, disintegrating away into the wind. But those faces plague you, staring back at you as you have to choose. Your family now, or your family from the past? Whoever you don't choose, isn't going to have a happy end.

❥ Muffin Love | Fluffy + NSFW - Your child of a girlfriend can't seem to go to back to sleep despite the early morning hours. You, being the perfect partner, get up ready to bake you guys some breakfast. That is until a few comments towards Ellie's bedroom abilities give the green eyed girl another idea.

❥ A Minute Is All It Takes | Angst - Ellie and Dina leave you and Jesse in the dust. Together while you both wallow in your sadness, drink after drink you find yourself wandering to the bathroom. But a heated argument makes you fall apart, and it all happened in less than a minute.

❥ Cinnamon Swirl | Angsty fluff - You can't seem to get out of bed, and your girlfriend decides that its her job to cheer you up. Even if it means laying with you until you start to feel okay.

❥ She Was Home | Fluff - Ellie comes home wanting to lay down with you. Talking to you about everything and nothing. Only problem? You can't seem to stay awake for long, not that she minds.

❥ Hold Me Till the Sun Comes Up | Fluff - Nightmares plague your mind and despite the overwhelming darkness you decide not to wake up Ellie. Though, the girl seems to have a sixth sense, waking up and despite your pleads. She won't go back to sleep until you follow her into your dreams.

❥ Quiet | Fluff + VERY Slight Angst - You don't talk. Always silent, and despite dickheads telling you you're the rudest person to ever walk the planet. Your girlfriend doesn't seem to care.

❥ Too Much Talking | Smut - Ellie just can't seem to stop talking, not paying attention to you and you decide that just won't work. Time to shut her up, and it works, almost too perfect.

❥ Friends | Fluff + NSFW - You'd never lived in a good home, and neither had Ellie really. And despite all the bad in the world, and the short time you'd both been friends. You guys just clicked, in more ways than one.

❥ No More Tears Left to Cry | Angst - Ellie just can't seem to contain her jealousy, even if it hurts you in the end.

❥ Early Birds | Fluff - An early day on the farm, and you just love those sheep. Even if one is technically a goat, seeing you feeding the baby goat from the bottle makes Ellie start to wonder. Maybe having more people around the farm isn't such a bad idea.

❥ Avoidance | Fluff - You were in love with your best friend and you hated yourself for it. But she had the same idea, and old birthday party by the lake from almost 30 years before might just be the token to your love.

❥ Sunday Afternoon | Fluff | MODERN AU - Ellie's favorite series gets delayed and finally a new issue is released. And despite it raining and your want to stay on the couch. You take a trip down to the bookstore, and it turns into time of fun.

❥ The Piano Key to my Heart | Fluff - You love to play piano, and Ellie loves to watch. Especially on those rainy, cloudy mornings. But she can't lie, she does love to sleep.

❥ High Jealousy | Smut - Ellie is especially jealous when she smokes a little weed. Even more so when you tell her you just might have to stay a little late with the one person she hates.

❥ A First for Everything | Smut - You were a virgin, Ellie knew that and she didn't care one bit. And neither did you up until Dina made a small joke that gave you the push you needed.

❥ Late Night Terror | Angst + Fluff - Ellie had a nightmare and yells for you, but of course you had to use the bathroom just as she needed you. Good thing you didn't go far.

❥ Partners | Fluff - You and Ellie are new partners and you can't believe you haven't hung out before then.

❥ Crybaby | Smut + Fluff - You've been a brat, and Ellie is patient with you, always. But this time she wants her fun, even if she calls you her little crybaby, she loves you. She loves you alot when you beg, because your her little baby. Her little crybaby.

❥ Caught | Smut + Fluff - Ellie cancels your movie night and you can't help but feel disappointed so to make up for it, you decide to have a little 'self love'. But you end up getting caught by the same person you were thinking of, though it turns out better than expected.

❥ Bathroom Activities | Smut + Slight angst + Fluff - You were jealous of Dina, even though neither her or Ellie would hurt you. She's just so perfect, but Ellie is here to remind you that you are just as perfect, especially to her.

❥ Watch Me | Smut + Fluff - Your best friend Ellie has never had a lap dance, you decide to change that which leads to a little more than a dance.

❥ Rollercoaster | Fluff | MODERN AU - You're a bit scared to go on the bigger rollercoasters, once Ellie catches on, she makes sure you know it's okay to be afraid.

❥ What Friends Do | Fluff + Smut - Ellie and you are best friends, no filter and no bullshit. But a hot and heavy scene happens to appear on the movie she put on. And you have been so needy lately. So maybe she can help, i mean, that is what friends do.

❥ Argumentative | Angst + Fluff - Ellie is such a dick sometimes, and you don't want to go on a mission without resolving your issues but she's just too stubborn and argumentative. Then something happens, and she realizes that you were right, she was being stupid.

❥ Addiction | Smut + Fluff - Ellie is very inexperienced and so desperate to get off. You don't mind helping, even when she's so addicted to your body. And uses you like her favorite little toy.

❥ Not A Couple | Angst + Very Slight Fluff - You and Ellie weren't dating but she knew you liked her, she knew and she still chose to break your heart in two. And she hates herself for it.

❥ Little Green Monster | Smut + Fluff - Ellie can get easily jealous, only afraid of losing you and loves to remind you that your hers. But she'll deny till the day she dies that she's jealous, even though it's written all over her that little green monster paid her quite the visit.

❥ Desperate Clinging | Smut + Fluff - Ellie is your clingy little desperate baby, and you'll always take care of her. Always. Even if she's a little annoying.

❥ What's Your Favorite Scary Movie ? | Fluff | MODERN AU - Ellie and you happen to meet at a drunken hang out and she just so happens to like you, a lot more than everyone else anyway.

❥ The Best of Friends | Smut - You and Ellie are best friends, until a certain situation makes her confidence spike, and all it took was a spicy scene on her TV.

❥ Her Life and Her Death | Smut - Her existence begins with your love, and it will always end with it. Especially if she's got a choice in the matter. But hearing you say it out loud... man, she could hear that forever.

❥ In Her Eyes | Angst - You're becoming just like your father, and Ellie has to watch as you spiral back to his angry ways.

❥ Insomnia | Smut + Fluff - Ellie can't sleep and can't figure out why, until she accidentally wakes you up. And you seem to figure it out real fast.

❥ Renaissance Portrait | Fluff - You're an actress, Ellie makes props, of course you'd cross paths.

❥ Waking Up Again | Angst + Fluff - You get bit, and though it seems like the end. Nothing ever really ends, does it?

❥ Movie Night | Fluff - You and Ellie have a movie night.

❥ Pink Catalyst | Smut - She really liked your new, pink shorts. So much, she of course had to show her appreciation.

❥ Melatonin | Smut + Angst + Fluff - Ellie, ever the insomniac, wakes in the night and may just need you to comfort her. In more ways in one, that is.

❥ Bad Idea, Right? | Smut + Angst + Fluff - Your ex girlfriend Ellie is at the same party you're at. And when she just so happens to 'run into you by accident' you talk... and talk until you decide to go home with her. I mean... this is a bad idea, right? Fuck it, it's fine.

❥ From top to bottom | smut + fluff - opposites attract they say, and you make sure to see it through.

❥ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

❥ Spicy Toys (HC) | NSFW + Fluff

❥ Her Kinks | Smut

❥ Ellie With Your Younger Sibling | Fluff

❥ Ellie With a Rockstar Gf | Fluff + NSFW

❥ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

❥ smut drabble #1

❥ smut drabble #2

❥ 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

❥ A World Inside Walls | Part Two | Part Three

- You were new to Jackson, having no one left to console you, everyone you know now a corpse somewhere. You find solace in the local graveyard, and so does another girl. Time after time you get to know her, Ellie. , one thing just happens to lead to another despite the weight on both of your shoulders.

❥ One Night Stand Masterpost | Smut + Angst + Fluff - You and Ellie meet on a one night stand, that ends up not being just a one and done.

❥ The Before, Then the After | Part Two | Fluff + Slight Angst - You and Ellie have known each other for a long time, and things have changed, you have changed, but no matter what you still love each other.

❥ 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬

❥ 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚

❥ Shirt Stealer | Fluff - Time for bed for the three of you, but you can't find your shirt. But you know just where it is.

❥ 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲

❥ Euphoric | Smut - Ellie decides she wants to try something new, inviting a good friend into the bedroom. Both of you excited to try out this new idea, and God, you loved it more than you thought.

❥ Double Trouble | Smut - You, Ellie and Abby never seem to get along for more than five minutes. A strange tension lingering over your arguing, that's until one day you nearly die, and the two figure out that you might like their teasing a bit more than you let on.

❥ Three is a Charm | Smut - Three is a charm, two is not the same. I don't see the harm. So are you, game?