#survivor blues joel miller

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Survivor Blues

Part Six: Kitchen Scraps

A/N: I feel like every single one of my author's notes begins with me screaming and apologizing for how long it took me to update the story, so pretend that's what this says. I am very excited to share this part of Survivor Blues because even though there's not a lot of action, it sets up a ton of things to come, and we get a lot more background information on Reader. From the bottom of my heart I hope you all enjoy these kitchen scraps. Thank you so much for reading!

Warnings: language, mentions of trauma, death, murder, mentions of illness, some angst but hey that comes with the territory

Word Count: 8,454

Summary: Three months into your new life in Jackson, you start to notice some changes. But how much change, and are you sure you're entirely ready for it?

June - 2037 

With the start of your third month in Jackson came a considerable number of changes. 

Your apartment, for example, began to look like someone actually lived there. 

For the first time in nearly a decade, your pack had been unpacked, your belongings given places of permanence instead of just pockets and pouches. The pair of chipped enamel camp mugs now sat side by side in the cabinet over the kitchen sink. Gavin’s stained and threadbare concert tee was folded and put away with the rest of your clothing. A hook next to the front door held your coat by the hood, the key to your place dangling on another one right beside it. The creased and tattered old envelope you’d carried with you for years that held photos and a handful of notes had been emptied and tossed. The notes, mostly from Gavin but a few from Laura and Kyle, as well as a faded old marker drawing your nephew had done for you when he was six years old, were tucked away in your bedside table.

But the photos you chose to display. 

Because they deserve to be seen. Everyday. 

You’d found some old frames in a box in the hall closet a few days after you moved in, but you weren’t ready to use them then. Now one sat atop your dresser, holding the last picture of you and Gavin taken before the outbreak - incredibly youthful faces smushed cheek to grin-split cheek, Gavin’s inked fingers holding up your wrist as you showed off the diamond ring he’d slipped onto your finger only moments before. Your engagement ring had been sold ages ago, back when you were still in the Philadelphia QZ and people still cared enough about things like diamonds to trade medicine for them. But the photo was worth more to you than a rock ever could be. 

And I still have our bands. Even though we never… 

You were never officially married, and since the bands had been hand-me-downs from Gavin’s grandparents and didn’t fit either of your fingers, you’d only ever worn them on chains around your necks. But you knew that never mattered. Not to you, and not to him. Not since the moment that picture had been taken. Not since you’d joyfully exclaimed the word yes when he asked you to be his wife. 

Another frame sat on the T.V. stand in the living room. That one held a picture of you and Laura from the summer before the outbreak, the two of you sitting on the steps outside her building, cups of brightly colored Italian ice in your hands and Kyle’s father’s arm sticking in from out of sight to add bunny ears to his girlfriend’s head. Both of you were laughing at some long since forgotten joke, but you’d always be able to hear the sound of her laughter when you looked at it. 

There was another picture taken that day, one of just Laura and Dante on those same steps. You’d taken it yourself, with Gavin’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind you as he made faces at his sister to get her to laugh. That one you didn’t have anymore, though. You’d left it with Kyle. It was the only photo you had of both of his parents. It was only right that it stay with him. 

The last two photos that you had in your possession were polaroids taken with a camera you’d found during your time at the farm. One of them was of you, Gavin, Laura and a two year old Kyle, the little boy perched on his uncle’s shoulders, the four of you standing in front of the old oak tree that his family had been taking pictures in front of for generations. Ty had been behind the camera that day, not wanting to be caught on film herself but more than happy to capture moments for the rest of you. The other was a candid she’d snapped of just you and Gavin from the same day, your hands linked together and hanging between your bodies and his face turned in your direction. The expression he wore was one of pure adoration as he watched you watching the sunset. Seconds later he was leaning in to press his lips to your temple, kissing a whisper onto your skin. 

“Love you, Sugar.” 

Memories like those didn’t belong in your backpack anymore. If you were going to build a life here, they deserved to be a part of it. 

Because they’re a part of me. 

Those two, because of their unconventional shape, didn’t fit in the 3x5 frames you’d found. But you had another option in the form of your stark white refrigerator door. Using the plain green circular magnet that had been stuck there when you arrived, you tacked up the photo of you and Gavin. The last thing that you pulled from your pack was what you used to hang the other - the rest stop souvenir magnet that Joel had given you the morning after you’d sewn up his arm. 

It was the first “new” thing you’d brought into the apartment since you moved in. The first new item in your collection of trinkets that tied you to moments and people that mattered to you. It scared the shit out of you to admit, but one of the biggest changes you’d gone through since your arrival in Jackson was allowing things to matter again. When Kyle died you thought your ability to feel anything but emptiness had died with him. You thought life, however much more of it you’d be unlucky enough to endure, would be nothing more than putting one foot in front of the other until you physically couldn’t anymore. No more laughter, no more happiness, no more warmth and certainly no more human connection. Just the hollow feeling in your skull and the involuntary drive to carry on. Left, right, left until you marched yourself into the dirt. Or worse.  

But then Joel and Tommy found you in that split-level not far from town and now here you were, with a refrigerator door decorated with things that mattered. 

You wondered if it would ever be as covered up with kitschy clutter as the one in your and Gavin’s tiny apartment. Photobooth strips and postcards, recipes that you wanted to try, either clipped from magazines or scrawled hastily on scraps of paper, a birthday card you’d gotten one year from your friend Dave that was too funny to take down, the test results from Gavin’s blood work that showed improvement after his surgery which he jokingly slapped up calling it his A+ report card. Magnets from trips you’d taken, a promotional one from your favorite dumpling place, stray letters from one of those colorful alphabet sets, objects you’d simply glued a magnetic strip to to turn into a magnet, like the little plastic stingray you found on the floor in the hallway of your building or the cork from the champagne bottle you popped when you moved in. 

Like a scrapbook. 

That was what Gavin used to call it. A memory pushed its way forward from the back of your mind as you stood there looking at your mostly bare by comparison fridge, a moment you hadn’t thought about in what felt like ages. 

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you scurried from the bathroom to the bedroom, fingers deftly fastening an earring before flipping the strap of your dress to lay it flat against your shoulder. The anxiety of running late and nerves about meeting extended members of Gavin’s family for the first time at his cousin’s wedding popped and jumped like corn kernels in your stomach. As a result, your thoughts tripped over themselves in your head as you stuffed your phone and a tube of lip gloss into a small purse. I still have to sign the card and - shit! The card! We need to stop at an ATM and grab cash for the card! Wait, the place is in Germantown, right?  

“Gav? Where’s the invitation? I need to check -” 

“Hung it on the scrapbook.” He followed you from the bedroom down the short, narrow hall to the kitchen as his slender fingers worked to form the knot in his tie. “Slow down, Shug, we’ve got plenty of time.” You plucked the invite from the collage you called a refrigerator door just as he finished his task, those same long digits now curling around your hips to pull you flush against his long, lean frame. When he spoke again, lips close to your ear and breath warm on your skin, you could hear the smile in his voice. “We’re not gonna be late, don’t you worry.” You closed your eyes as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “You look gorgeous.” His murmured compliment made you melt, made the nerves that were just exploding inside you go calm. And then he spoke again and made you snort out a laugh. “Gonna upstage the bride.”

You turned in his arms to see the smile still on his face, his eyes shining softly as he looked at you. You rolled yours playfully, smacking his arm with the invitation as you did to draw a chuckle from his throat. “Oh, stop. I’m sure Maya is gonna be a stunning bride.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded, leaning in to nudge the tip of your nose with his. “Just not as stunning as you.” 

You wondered if you would ever again feel even a fraction of what you felt in that nearly forgotten, long buried memory. Like you were floating. Radiating love. Sure of every part of yourself. Safe in the arms and heart of a man who always put you first. Blinking at the expanse of white, powder-coated stamped steel that surrounded the two pictures and two magnets, you decided it was far more likely that you’d fill up that empty space before someone else filled the empty space in your heart. 

But… it’s not entirely impossible. 

Your focus strayed to the Wyoming magnet, a small, soft swell growing in your chest as you remembered the look on Joel’s face when he handed it to you. Maybe it was possible that you could find both here. You scoffed and shook the thought from your head before you took it too far. You knew you were in no shape for anything like that, emotionally speaking. 

The last time you’d been in anything that resembled a relationship had been a little under ten years earlier, just outside the Chicago QZ, and you’d done everything you could to keep it as stunted and strictly physical as possible. A means to an end. A way to release tensions pent up for too long, a way to feel something other than fear or pain or white hot rage or the soul sucking sadness that clawed at your throat most nights. AJ - a tall, muscular smuggler with a deep voice, far away eyes and a teenaged sister he’d shoot you dead to save if it came to that - was happy to agree to those terms. He understood you and your bricked up walls and your need to keep your broken heart behind them. He understood those things without you ever saying them because he was doing the same thing. 

It lasted three months before he ruined it by offering you more. 

“You know, Gia and I are thinkin’ ‘bout leavin’ Chicago,” he told you one night in the upstairs bedroom of the stash house he let you and your family stay in while Laura rested a badly sprained ankle. In exchange, you kept his cache of smuggled goods protected from raiders. The fucking had just been a mutual bonus. “QZ’s goin’ to shit. Think it’s time we get out for good.” 

You balked instantly at the casual way he dropped his future plans on you. Your clothes were still strewn on the floor, your bare skin still pressed to his. You were too exposed for that kind of intimacy. Shifting away from his hold you felt yourself shutdown, an icy flush running through your veins to kill whatever warmth AJ had managed to put there before he spoke. 

“Oh?” Your voice came out flat as you sat up and reached for your shirt. 

The man in the bed behind you cleared the gravel from his throat and sat up, too. “Yeah.” His large palm landed too gently on your shoulder blade, and you knew he felt it when you flinched at the sweep of his thumb, but he kept going anyway. “I was thinking maybe you’d wanna come with us.” He leaned forward and broke another rule, brushing a stubble-studded kiss to your spine. “You and Kyle and Laura, of course.” 

You stood, putting more distance between you so he couldn’t feel the way your heart was banging on your ribs, telling you it was time to pull up stakes and go. Yanking the shirt over your head, you looked at him with empty eyes and a slight shake of your head. “I don’t know why you’d think that.” You arched one eyebrow and shrugged. “That’s not what this is.” You took another step, bending down to pick up the rest of your clothes so that you could seal yourself away from him. 

He let out a sound somewhere between a scoff and a sigh and you heard the bed springs creak as he got up. “It could be,” he answered, reaching for your wrist in an attempt to slow you down, reel you back in, try to coax you into agreeing to let this thing between you go from bare bones and scraps to something more fleshed out and filling. You shook off his loose grip and finished getting dressed despite the click of his tongue and the low murmur of your name. “You could let it be. We can keep each other safe. I can keep you safe, and-“  

A humorless laugh escaped your lips then. “If you think I need you to keep me safe, then you don’t know a goddamn thing about me.” You shoved your feet into your boots and laced them up tight. 

“I know you don’t need it, but-” 

Wheeling on him, you cut him off. “You know what, AJ? I think this has run its course. Laura’s ankle is healed, so-“ You hardened your features against the way his face fell. “We’ll be out of your hair in the morning.” 

And you were.

AJ had tried one more time to get you to stay. One more time to tell you that he wanted you in his hair, that he wanted you in his life. But that would mean him becoming a part of yours. That would mean Gia becoming a part of yours. That would mean two more people to anchor yourself to. Two more people for you to protect. Two more people to weave themselves into the fabric of your heart, and two more people you could potentially lose, causing that fabric to tear in two more places. You’d already worn yourself ragged with responsibility and loss. You weren’t looking for more. AJ was a good man. He could have been good for you. The timing was just wrong. 

But you were safe now. There was no reason to run from companionship or intimacy now. That didn’t mean it would be easy, though. 

Like that’s ever stopped you before, you could hear Gavin tease, a smirk on his face. 

It hadn’t. You had never been one to back down simply because the task at hand might be difficult. You moved out on your own for the first time with only what you could fit in your car. You took your first kitchen job without a lick of experience. You fell head over heels in love with a man with a heart defect, knowing full and well that any chance at forever with him could be cut short by his condition and diving in anyway. Easy wasn’t really in your playbook. 

Again, it was Joel’s face that came to mind. You had no real idea what his story was when it came to relationships, you only knew that he wasn’t currently in one. And with the way you had heard some women in town speak about him when they thought only their closest friends could hear, you gathered that it was by choice. That it wasn’t something he was looking for. 

And though you were almost afraid to admit it even to yourself, a part of you already hoped that you were wrong about that. 

Another change came in the way that you interacted with people in town. For starters, you’d stopped outright avoiding eye contact and dodging conversation when walking to and from your apartment. When people came into the bakery, you smiled and found yourself chatting about things you used to talk to your customers about before the outbreak. 

“Morning, Heather! How was Kaylee’s birthday? Did she like the cupcakes?” 

“Hi, Marty. Didn’t see you yesterday when they were fresh, but I saved you some corn muffins. I know they’re Carl’s favorite.” 

“Hey Nadia, you live next to Allie and Greg, right? How are they doing with the new baby? Can you drop their order off to them on your way home?”

On patrols and trail sweeps you picked up where you left off on topics you’d previously spoken to your partners about. It was never anything truly personal aside from when you were paired with a woman named Jo who still spoke with an unmistakable Pennsylvanian accent, and you shared that you were from Philly. In an extreme case of it’s a small world afterall, she turned out to be from Glenside, a suburb just a few SEPTA stops away. The two of you had spent that shift - an overnight gate patrol - talking about restaurants, bars and other places you missed in the city. Typically you talked about books or movies or music, trading recommendations or trying to recall lyrics to songs you hadn’t heard in decades. Sometimes, like when you were paired with Jesse or one of the other younger volunteers, you brought up a movie they hadn’t heard of and you ended up summarizing or explaining it to them. Like some kind of post-apocalyptic storytime. The Tale of The Men in Black. The Saga of The Breakfast Club. The Epic of Empire Records. 

It never strayed into “opening up” territory, but you were refamiliarizing yourself with being a person again, and not just trying to stay alive for another 24 hour block of time. You were still hesitant to attend one of the Friday night gatherings at the Tipsy Bison, but you had started to eat one or two meals a week in the communal dining hall. You’d sit with people you knew and felt the most comfortable with - Evelyn from the bakery, Tommy and Maria when you saw them, Eugene or Henrik if they waved you over. You rarely saw Joel there but sometimes you caught a glimpse of Ellie surrounded by some of the other teens. You still spent most of your nights alone in your home - cooking small meals for yourself, reading, sewing patches or buttons onto things as needed - but you were trying, and that was new. 

Despite all that had changed though, some things unfortunately remained the same. The nightmares, for example, had proven far more stubborn than your crumbling resolve to not form attachments. They still woke you up every few nights, your breaths coming in greedy gasps as you worked to convince yourself that you were safe in your bed in Jackson and not tearing through the dark woods with a twelve year old Kyle’s hand clamped in your own, a pack of hunters hot on your trail. Or that Gavin hadn’t met a horrific end at the snapping jaws of a horde of infected. Or that those men hadn’t caught you in that warehouse in Kentucky and kept you chained to a mattress in a back room.

But it wasn’t the close call and what if nightmares that were the worst of them. Not by a long shot. The darkest dreams you fell victim to weren’t conjured by your fears or anxieties. They came straight from your actions and experiences. They weren’t dreams at all, just memories played back in excruciatingly high definition. Memories of the worst things you’d ever done. Reminders that you might not deserve this new lease on life. Portals to places where you’d committed the unthinkable. 

Places like that waterlogged and overgrown Walgreens where you crossed the line for the first time - where you became a murderer, taking the life of a human being who wasn’t infected. Who wasn’t even a threat to you. Your mind would floor with details from that fateful day. The squish of the moss covered floor tiles beneath your boots. The odor of rust and mildew that permeated the air. The rustle of things being knocked off a shelf and the terrified hiss of “oh, shit!” that followed. The tilt of your head as you took in the sight of the bottle gripped tightly in the dirty-fingered grasp of the woman, identifying it as the exact drug that you needed. That Gavin needed to stay alive. The way she pleaded with you on behalf of her sick son. “Please, he’s only twelve. He’ll die without them. I’ll split them with you!” The way you didn’t even blink as you shot her dead. The maraca rattle of the pills as you pried the bottle from her hand. The way that shot rang in your ears until you made it back to the farm. 

It vibrated in your lungs, even in the dreams. And when you handed the medicine to Gavin, it was written on your face clear as day for him to read. You’d told him what you’d done, waves of nausea roiling through your belly and adrenaline coursing through your blood to make your hands shake and your breathing turn to sobs and gasps. “Oh, Sugar,” he’d said, opening his arms to wrap you in them, pulling you closer to the weakening, uneven beat of his heart. “Don’t lose yourself over me.” Your hot tears soaked into the old, stained concert tee that hung baggy and loose on his frame as you clutched fistfuls of material. “It’s not worth the toll.” 

You’d tried to argue with him then, because to you, anything was worth it if it meant more time with him. Another year, another few months, fuck, even if it only bought you mere days there was nothing you weren’t willing to do for Gavin. “We both know you can’t buy me much longer,” he said, speaking calmly as he stroked his long, tattooed fingers up and down your spine. “Don’t turn yourself into something you’re not. Stay you, Sugar. Stay you and stay with me.”

In the end though, it was him that couldn’t stay, and that particular nightmare would always end with you sobbing into your pillow. Alone.  

More recently your nightmares took you to that grimey hotel room where you helped Kyle end his life. Where you killed him, your subconscious would remind you. Details you didn’t even realize you’d absorbed would come leaching out once you were asleep. The feel of the dust encrusted carpet against your sweaty, blood soaked palm. The pocked and peeling paint flaking from the walls and piling up in little heaps. The icy draft that came through the broken window to freeze the tears in your eyes. The way your nephew suddenly became so heavy as you held him. And that nagging, illogical thought that burrowed itself into the center of your brain and slammed every cell like a cymbal - He could have been immune. You don’t know that he wasn’t. 

There had always been rumors about the possibility of natural immunity to the Cordyceps infection. You’d heard the whispers whenever you moved through a place that had or previously had a Firefly presence. Genetic mutations are always possible, they’d posit. You’d always rolled your eyes and called it a hopeless hope, a pipe dream. Just something that desperate people told themselves so they could justify what they’d done or give themselves motivation to keep going. Everyone you’d ever known to be infected had turned within a day or two. You weren’t holding your breath for a miracle mutation. 

And even though it was one of the rules you and your family had written for yourselves decades ago, and even though it was what Kyle wanted, and even though you still thought it was easier than having to see your sweet, smart, funny, thoughtful nephew become a snapping, snarling monster, that thought still reverberated in your mind whenever that dream woke you up. He could have been immune. But now you’ll never know. 

There were others, too, but those were the ones that came most frequently. Those were the ones that the firewalls in your sleeping brain had no chance against, the ones there was no falling back to sleep after. 

On those nights you woke shaken and shaking, pulling yourself from the bed and turning lights on as quickly as possible to banish the things that crept into your mind. On those nights you didn’t try to find sleep again, knowing that the ache in your heart and the spike in your adrenaline wouldn’t let you. Instead you’d pad into the kitchen and do what you’d always done when you couldn’t sleep - open the cabinets and preheat the oven and bake something to take your mind off of whatever had just taken over it. 

In college, before you’d dropped out, it was blueberry muffins to distract yourself from the stress of exams. You’d bake dozens of them and give them to your friends as study fuel. On the nights following Gavin’s open heart surgery it was rye bread and cinnamon buns. You’d take them with you to the hospital when you visited him, giving them - along with your unending gratitude - to the nursing staff and doctors that worked on him. At the farm when you worried that you wouldn’t be able to keep your family safe it was potato rolls. And for the few months that you stayed in the Chicago QZ it was a modified oatmeal cookie recipe that tasted more like sugarless styrofoam due to the lack of certain ingredients, but bless their hearts, Laura and Kyle still told you they were delicious. 

Three months into your stay in Jackson, at six in the morning on your weekly day off, it was sourdough and carrot cake muffins. 

By ten o’clock you’d finished baking three loaves of bread - two of which you were planning to take to the community center to be used for meals that day - and were just getting started peeling carrots for the muffins, when there was a knock at your door. 

And as you crossed the room to answer it, wiping your hands on the dish towel that hung over your shoulder, you noticed another change - you hadn’t reached for the knife in your boot. You hadn’t even put your boots on that morning, your feet still only covered by the socks you yanked on before coming out to the kitchen. Your heart didn’t start to race. Your fingers hadn’t even twitched. You’d just heard the sound and moved to respond to it like it was normal. Like you would have before the outbreak. 

Like I would have back at home. 

Unwilling to have that conversation with yourself while someone stood waiting outside your door, you shook your head to clear your thoughts. Not now. Peeking through the view hole, you actually smiled as you saw who was on the other side. I wonder what… 

You unlocked the door and opened it. “Hey, good morning, Ellie. What are you up to? Everything alright?” 

She groaned in dramatic teenage fashion. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Except for the fact that I’m dying of boredom with these lame shifts Maria put me on this week.” 

Maria tried to keep the younger volunteers busy with tasks in the town or on the walls as often as possible, only sending them out when the schedule demanded it to relieve other patrol members, and it seemed that was what had brought Ellie to your apartment. Good. Boring is good and safe. I’m sure Joel loves boring for you, kid. 

“Oh yeah? What’s she got you doing today that’s so terrible?” 

“Compost duty.” She held up a metal pail that you hadn’t noticed at first, nose wrinkled and top lip curled. “I’m here for your rotten vegetables.”   

You let out a laugh in the form of a snort, pushing the door to open it wider. “Well they’re not rotten yet, which is kind of the point, but they’re all yours. Come on in. I’ll grab the jar, it’s in the fridge.”

Closing the door behind herself, Ellie followed you through the small living room towards the kitchen. “Ugh, it smells fucking amazing in here. Are you baking? Even on your day off? Jesus, what time did you wake up?”

You shrugged and looked back over your shoulder at her. “Yeah. You caught me.” You pointed to the counter where the loaves of sourdough sat cooling, moving aside so she could see them. “That’s what you’re smelling.” 

She groaned and slumped against the doorframe. “Oh my god those look so good. It’s making me hungry.” 

Laughing again, you pulled a serrated knife from the block on the counter. “You want a slice?” 

Her eyes lit up as she stood straight. “Are you kidding? Hell yeah I do!” You smiled and turned to saw off a hunk, the knife’s teeth scraping at the thick outer crust before sinking into the soft center. “You know, nothing against Todd or Evelyn, but the bread from the bakery is so much better now that you’re working there.” 

You chuckled, letting her compliment wash warmly over you. “Thanks, Ellie, I take my bread seriously so that means a lot to me.” You handed over the slice and she immediately took a bite. 

“Fuck,” she groaned through a mouthful, eyes rolling closed as she chewed. “So damn good!” 

“Good.” You wiped the blade off and sheathed it in the block again. “I haven't tried it yet, so thanks for helping out with quality assurance.” 

“Literally anytime,” she said around another bite. 

You smiled and already it was hard to imagine that you’d started that morning shaking and in tears. “Hey, if you’re not in a rush I’ll have even more to throw in your compost bucket if you can wait until I peel these carrots?” Picking up the peeler, you used it to gesture to the pile of vegetables on the cutting board. 

She shrugged. “No rush. Peel away.” You nodded and went to work as Ellie leaned against the countertop on the other side of the sink. “So, can I ask you a question?” 

You took a breath and considered the kind of question she might ask. “Um… sure.” 

“You were a baker, like… before, right? That’s what Joel said, and I mean -” She held up the remainder of the sourdough slice as proof. 

“I was.” You answered. “Had my own shop and everything.” 

“Okay, so then… How did you not… I mean, fuck, how do I ask this?” 

Turning in her direction you took a wild guess to help her out of her struggle. “How did I not become infected immediately since the initial cordyceps contamination was spread through flour?” 

She held up one finger, slightly gaping mouth snapping shut. “Yes, exactly.” 

You chuckled and went back to the carrots. “Mine was a little different from a regular bakery. I specialized in baking things for people with common food allergies. Eggs, wheat, dairy, things like that. So the flour I used came from a completely different source than…” You trailed off because you knew she got the picture. 

“Huh. Do you have allergies? Is that why you decided to bake like that?” 

You shook your head. “No, I don’t. I had…” You swallowed. “I knew people who couldn’t eat certain things, so I did it for them.” 

“Well…” She raised one scarred eyebrow. “I guess that was a good choice.” 

Snorting, you nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

She pushed away from the counter and stepped closer to the refrigerator, her head tilting slightly to one side as something there caught her eye. The pictures. She’s looking at… Your grip on the peeler tightened, a pulse of panic seizing you at the thought that you might have to talk about your family. That was something you hadn’t done in a long time, something that you were still just on the cusp of readiness for. Hanging the photos up for your own eyes to see was one thing. You hadn’t thought about the prospect of others in your home seeing them, too. She’s gonna ask about- 

“Hey, Joel has this same magnet.” Reaching out with her pointer finger, she tapped the one shaped like your new home state. 

He… What? You let out a breath and set the peeler on the cutting board next to the pile of long orange carrot skin curls. The flash of panic turned to flurried confusion, Ellie’s comment catching you completely off guard. He took one, too? Clearing your throat, you prepared to respond when she spoke again, this time throwing something that looked like a smirk over her shoulder at you. 

“What, were they on sale or something?” She tapped it again. “Buy one, get one- Oh, shit!” 

The press of her finger must have shifted the magnet, freeing it from the pull that held it in place. You watched as she whipped her head back around and scrambled to try to catch not only the dislodged magnet, but also the picture that was stuck beneath it. She was only successful in saving one from the ground, though, juggling the plastic piece between both hands before closing it in one fist while the polaroid fluttered to the floor. Crouching down she snatched the picture up and reattached it to the door. 

“Fuck! I’m sorry! It- I didn’t mean to…” 

It was then, as she carefully put the photo back in its place, that you noticed the recognition on her face. Like she hadn’t even really seen the picture until that moment, hadn’t noticed anything beyond the familiar magnet. She went quiet, a sadness you wished she didn’t have to know creeping into her expression as she realized that none of the people standing next to you in the photo were there in Jackson with you now. 

“Is this your family?” There was a hollow tone in her typically light and bubbly voice as she stared at the smiling faces on your refrigerator. Like she didn’t want to ask but felt some compulsion to know. Like she already knew but couldn’t keep the question on her tongue. Like she should have been able to do something to change the outcomes for the people you’d lost. 

You recognized it right away and it broke your heart to see it in her, too. The guilt. The deep dark blues of surviving when everyone you loved was gone. When everyone everyone loved was gone. Oh, Ellie. 

Though only moments before you felt panic at the prospect of talking about the people you lost, suddenly, when asked, you were filled with an overwhelming urge to tell her about them. To show her - and maybe yourself, too - that not every memory hurt. That most of them didn’t. 

“Yeah,” you answered around a bittersweet smile. “It is. From about…” You hummed. “Fifteen years ago.” Wetting your lips and blinking back the stinging threat of tears, you stepped closer to where the girl stood. “That’s my-” 

You stopped yourself because you didn’t want to choke on the word you were about to use. You’d never had to explain to anyone who Gavin was to you. For years, the only people who mattered had simply always known. But that’s not the case anymore, is it? Not if you truly were serious about trying to have a life here. Left hand coming up to touch the outline of your chain through your t-shirt, you took a breath and focused on his smile in the photo. Hey, handsome. 

You cleared your throat and started over. “That’s my husband, Gavin.” You pressed the rings to your chest as you spoke his name. “And his sister, Laura.” Dropping your arm back to your side, you raised the opposite one to point at the little boy under the mess of curls that sat perched on Gavin’s shoulders. “And that’s Kyle, my nephew.” 

She stayed quiet for a few seconds, looking at the faces of the people you’d just introduced her to as though committing them to memory. “They look…” She sniffed. “You all look happy there.” 

She’s right. Despite the thick knot forming in your throat, you smiled. “Yeah.” Nodding, you looked down at her. “We were. Those were really good years.” 

The girl looked back up at you, lips pulling to the side before curving back into a small smile. “I’m glad you had those.” 

You took a breath, feeling somewhat lighter than you had in a long time even if it was a bittersweet lightness. “Yeah, me too.” Wetting your lips, you reached for the fridge handle. “Um, let me get those compost scraps for you, yeah?”  

Ellie nodded, lifting one hand up to wipe quickly at her eye. “Yeah. I should get going.” She moved over to the counter and scooped your pile of carrot peels into the bucket, then turned back to let you dump the contents of your scrap jar in as well. “Dina and I are supposed to hit all the apartments on this side of town before noon, so…” 

“So you better get moving, then,” you finished for her. “If I remember the schedule correctly, I think you and I have gate patrol on Wednesday night.” You winked. “I’ll make sure to bring snacks.” 

She grinned, almost all of the sadness that had crept into her expression gone. “You’re the best.” 

That made you laugh. “I’ll see you around, Ellie. Tell Dina I said hi.” 

She told you that she would, adding that she was also going to tell her that she missed out on the best damn sourdough left in the world by choosing odd numbered apartments, which only made you laugh harder. Closing your door after her, you couldn’t help but think of what a kick Gavin would have gotten out of Ellie. She would have made you laugh, too, Gav. 

Over the next hour you finished up the batch of muffins and cleaned the kitchen. Wrapping the two extra loaves in clean dish towels, you stuck them both in the canvas tote bag that you usually used to pick up your groceries from the general store. Once they’d cooled enough to handle, you did the same with the muffins, bundling them up and adding them to the bag. 

That done, you decided to get yourself together, changing your flour streaked shirt for a fresh three-quarter sleeved one, and the sweats you were wearing for a pair of jeans. When you looked in the mirror you were hit by yet another change - you no longer had that lost, wild, withering look that you arrived with. Your eyes had more light in them and fewer bags beneath. Your cheeks were less hollow and the windburn on them was healing well. You looked more like yourself and less like a spectral waif using your name than you had in longer than you could remember. Not that it matters but… Your lips - no longer peeling and chapped - hitched into a small grin. Not terrible. You took a second to adjust your hair, tucking stray pieces into place, and then flipped the lightswitch and left the bathroom. 

Grabbing your bag of baked goods from the kitchen, you shoved your feet into your boots and slipped your knife into place. Some things were unlikely to change after two decades of always needing to have a weapon on you, and you knew that it was the same for many other residents in town. Your gun, though, was left behind with your pack. Those items were reserved only for patrols, trail sweeps and supply runs. They had no place in your daily life anymore. Another small change. 

There was still a lingering late spring chill in the air as you stepped outside your building, but the sun was shining unimpeded in the clear blue sky and you hummed as it warmed your skin. It’s beautiful out today. As you turned onto the main street you were met with the sounds of the town. Windchimes and laughter, barking dogs and the clang of metal on metal from the blacksmith’s shop, birdsong and conversation. It felt like the much more rural version of strolling through your neighborhood in Philly on your way to the farmer’s market that used to pop up in the park on Thursday and Sunday mornings. It made you wonder what it was like here twenty some years ago, and how different things were now. 

The call of your name from somewhere to your right interrupted your thoughts before they could wander too far. You recognized the voice as you turned, eyes widening in surprise to see Joel Miller lifting one hand in greeting from the other side of the street. Oh. Hi. You stopped walking, raising your hand in a return wave and waiting for him to cross to your side.

As he did, you took a few seconds to let your eyes rake over him. He still wore a thin white bandage around his bicep, and it was visible beneath the short sleeves of his faded green t-shirt. As were his muscled arms, the warmer weather letting you see more of them than you had previously. His jeans were worn in but fit him well, the denim broken in to accommodate his movement perfectly. A toolbelt hung at his hips, hammer, tape measure, pliers and several screwdrivers attached to the loops or sticking out of the pouches. Right. He said he was in construction. You drew in a small breath as he came close enough that you could see the sunlight catching the silver in his hair. And then he smiled. Damn. 

“Thought that was you,” he said as he took the last few steps to close the distance. 

Forcing yourself to focus on the conversation at hand and not on how good he looked wearing a toolbelt, you smiled back at him. “You were right, it’s me.” 

That earned you a small chuckle, Joel raising the same hand he’d flagged you down with to scratch at the back of his neck. “How are you doin’ today?”

You tipped your head back, closing your eyes and letting the sun hit your face before responding. “The sun is out and I have a bag full of bread and muffins.” Bringing your chin back down, you shrugged the shoulder that your bag was on. “So I’m doing great.” He didn’t need to hear about the nightmare that preceded the baking. “How are you?” 

“A bag full of bread, huh?” He dropped his eyes to the goods and then brought them back up to yours. “Well I’m doin’ alright but not a bag of bread alright.” 

You laughed and pulled one strap of the tote bag down, reaching inside. “I might be able to help with that.” Pulling out one of the muffins, you offered it to him. “Carrot muffin?” 

He grinned as he took it from you. “If I ever say no to that question you’ll know there’s somethin’ wrong with me.” Nodding, he held your eyes for a second and the rush of warmth you felt had nothing to do with the sun. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Joel.” You cleared your throat and tilted your head in the direction you’d been walking in. “I was on my way to drop this off at the community center. Are you heading that way, too?” 

“I am. Meetin’ up with Tommy’n a few others to do some roof repairs.” You both started walking again, once your mutual destination was established. “Figure by now we won’t be gettin’ anymore snow, so it’s a good time to get up there and poke around.” 

You blew out a huff and shook your head. “The idea of snow in June or even April or May where I’m from is laughable. It’s probably 85 degrees in Philadelphia right now.” 

Joel made a similar sound. “Snow at all is laughable where I’m from.” You figured he was from somewhere in the south due to the slight drawl in certain words that he said, but before you got the chance to ask where exactly, he took a bite of the muffin you gave him and groaned at the taste. “Christ, that’s good.” 

Hoping you didn’t look as flustered as the sound of him groaning like that made you feel, you managed a smile. “Yeah?” He nodded, eyebrows drawn together in a serious expression as he chewed. “Good. You and Ellie make good taste testers, you know.” He tilted his head in question. “She stopped by my place this morning on her compost collection rounds.” 

“Uh huh, and she weaseled baked goods outta you, did she?” He took another bite, the reaction smaller this time but still visible and still making your chest puff up just a little. 

You shrugged. “She said she was hungry and she complimented my bread. What was I supposed to do?” 

“That girl is always hungry,” he said with a roll of his eyes that you could tell was just for show. “And if compliments are all it takes then let me tell you again, this-” He held up the last bite of muffin. “- Is delicious.” 

Letting a small laugh slip through your grin as you reached the community center, you turned to face him. “Well, thank you. If you like those, just wait until I get my hands on some apples or chokeberries.” 

“Lookin’ forward to it.” 

Just then Tommy appeared from behind the building with a ladder hoisted on one shoulder. He lifted his free hand to flag Joel down, calling out to him. “Waitin’ on you, big brother!” 

Joel clicked his tongue and turned to lob his response in Tommy’s direction. “Hold your horses, will you?” He gestured at you with his hand. “Can’t you see I’m havin’ a conversation?” 

“Yeah, I see.” The younger Miller tipped his chin in a nod and said your name. “Hope you’re havin’ a nice mornin’. Can you please send my brother up to the roof when he’s done yappin’ your ear off?” 

You laughed at that, Joel’s grumbles only making you laugh harder. “Will do, Tommy,” you said with a wave of your own. 

He grinned. “Thank you, ma’am. Take care now.” 

You called a “You too!” back at him as he disappeared behind the building again, and then you turned to face Joel once more. “Sounds like you’re needed on the roof.” 

Joel blew a huff through his nose and swatted his hand towards the roof. “He can wait a minute. I, uh…” He drew his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ve been meanin’ to ask you if you’d want to come over for dinner some night this week.” What? He dropped his hand to his side again and you tried your hardest not to let the shock you felt at his question show on your face. “Just as a thank you for stitchin’ me up,” he added. 

You blinked and took a breath, trying to process the offer he’d just made. Dinner. He’s inviting me to dinner? What is…  “I…” You shook your head as though your brain was a magic eight ball and shaking it would prompt a valid response to come out of your mouth, but immediately regretted it from the way Joel’s lips turned downward. Shit, he thinks I’m saying no. “That… That sounds nice, Joel.” Your heart hammered at your ribs as his frown faded back into a relaxed smile. “What um… What day were you thinking? I have a gate patrol Wednesday night, but-” 

“How’s Thursday, then?” 

Wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue, you swallowed and nodded slowly. “Thursday works.” Joel’s smile spread a little wider, sending his cheeks up into his eyes and making the skin around them crinkle. “Can I bring anything, or-” 

“Well I was raised to say no ma’am, just bring yourself,” he began, a mischievous glint brightening the depths of his eyes. “But I wouldn’t stop you from bringing something that you baked if you wanted to.” 

You let out a small laugh. “Got it.” 

“Alright then. Thursday it is.” He tilted his head towards the back of the community center, where the sound of the ladder being set up against the wall could be heard. “I better get up there ‘fore he has himself a conniption. You have a good day now.” 

As he turned to go, you reached into your tote bag and pulled out another muffin. “Joel!” He spun back to face you and you tossed the muffin in his direction, leaving him to scramble to catch it in one large hand. “For Tommy. Maybe he’ll be less annoyed at you if you bring him food.” 

He chuckled. “Maybe. See you around.” 

With that he headed off to join his brother and you were left momentarily standing there unsure of what had just happened. I just… He just… 

But then you heard the call of your name from the open door of the community center, and turned to see Maria grinning at you. “You comin’ in, or are you just going to watch my brother-in-law walk away?” 

You could feel the heat spread through your cheeks at her words, and quickly stepped toward the door as she started to chuckle. “Sorry, yeah, I-” 

“Hey,” she said, resting one hand on your shoulder. “I’m teasing.” She winked. “Besides, I think it’s great.” 

You let out a sigh. “Maria, it’s just-” 

“Just dinner, I know.” She nodded and held the door open for you to walk through it. “I still think it’s great.” The door clicked shut behind you and you sputtered for a response only for her to spare you the need to say anything more. “Anyway, what’s in the bag? You’re just in time for lunch prep.”

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[pedrospatch]

weakness l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Back in the Boston QZ, you confront Joel about what happened at Bill and Frank’s place.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s) two idiots who have feelings for each other, one idiot is in denial, Joel is kind of an asshole, confrontation, confessions. little bit of backstory on how they met, very brief mention of attempted SA. SMUT. reader loses her virginity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (practice safe sex, pls and thank you), post sex cuddles (ish) and more feelings.

word count: 6k

You splash several handfuls of warm water onto your face and scrub, making sure to be as thorough as possible as you rinse off all the suds from the cleansing soap that you’d used to wash the makeup off your face. You had also changed out of the dress that Frank had you wear for his special lunch earlier that afternoon and back into a much more appropriate outfit for your pending return to the Boston QZ with Joel—as always, Frank had kindly encouraged you to take a peek through a number of cardboard boxes full of women’s clothing in your size that he’d collected from the boutique and insisted that you go on and help yourself to whatever your heart desired out of them.

 After plucking a pair of dark wash blue jeans from one box, a long sleeved olive green blouse from another box, and a matching, white lace underwear set from a third box, you’d gone into the bathroom and started making the transition back to your usual appearance, minus the dirt and the grime for the time being.

There’s a part of you that’s relieved to see yourself looking a lot more—well, looking a lot more like yourself. On the other hand, there was another part of you that almost grieved the short lived feeling of what it had been like to look like a normal woman. Perhaps that’s the reason why, instead of putting your hair back into its usual braid, you decide to leave it down, loose around your shoulders.

“I told you it suited you,” Frank states with a little grin. Affectionately, he runs his fingers through it one more time before pulling you into his arms for a warm hug. “Thank you for coming over for lunch..”

After you and Joel had said your thank you and goodbyes to Bill and Frank, you started the journey back home. Not that the QZ was really a place that you wanted to consider home, but it was where you had spent the better part of the last six years. The truth was, you couldn’t stand living in the Boston QZ, but it was probably the closest thing to a home you’d ever have again.

 And it only felt like that because of Joel.

He’d crossed your path when you first arrived in Boston after Providence had been overrun with infected. Like most of the other survivors, you had found yourself in Boston, as it was the closest operating QZ and only about fifty miles away. It was a rougher crowd in Boston than in Providence and you’d found that out the hard way on your third night there when you’d been walking back to your quarters after that day’s work assignment had run late into the evening.

You had been trying to get to where you needed to be before it went past the set curfew hour and you remembered being so preoccupied with trying to avoid a disciplinary lockup that you hadn’t noticed the two goons who had been following you from the work site.

It happened in the blink of an eye—one minute you were walking and the next you’d been shoved into some empty alleyway. They roughed you up, and although you had tried to fight back, you ended up being overpowered and found yourself pinned down to the ground on your back by one of the assailants; meanwhile, his partner in crime eagerly unbuckled his belt and reached for the button of your jeans. Before it could go any further than that, the sound of a much older man’s deep voice threatening the promise of two broken jaws sent them running into the darkness as fast as their trembling legs could carry them.

That was the night you’d met Joel Miller. 

The one man in the zone that nobody in their right mind would ever dare fuck around with.

He’d scolded you for being stupid enough to walk the streets alone so close to curfew hour and then took you back to his apartment where he’d cleaned up all of the cuts and scrapes on your face with a torn, cotton blue handkerchief and some cheap whiskey. The two of you hadn’t been apart from each other since that night for longer than a day, if that.

So, the bottom line was that Boston wasn’t home. It never was home, and probably never would be.

It was Joel. He was home. 

It didn’t matter where you laid your head to sleep at night. Whether it was on a clean pillow in Lincoln or on that old, shoddy mattress that you’d noticed was starting to sprout bits off fluff through open tears in Boston—hell, you could lay your head down in the dirt at night and as long as Joel was there by your side, you wouldn’t give a single shit about it.

Gripping the straps of your  hundred liter pack, you glance up at Joel, your eyes meeting his own pack that he carried on his back. For a majority of the walk back, he’d stayed at least a few steps ahead in front of you. He hadn’t really said much of anything to you since your shared kiss in the middle of Bill and Frank’s living room.

Somehow, even several hours later, the feeling of his lips on yours still linger and you had to wonder, did Joel feel the same? Was it on his mind too? Or was he trying to forget that it ever even happened now that you two were heading back into the cold, hard reality of living in the QZ?

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that it wouldn’t devastate you if that were actually the case.

The two of you make it back just after nightfall. You and Joel sneak past the authorities and despite the fact that it was well after FEDRA curfew hour and the zone is crawling with guards on night patrol, you manage to make it all the way back to your shared apartment without being caught. Being thrown in lockup would have put quite the fucking damper on what had otherwise been one of the most decent days that you’d had in a while.

Joel’s silence towards you holds on pretty strong as he shoves his way through the front door, dropping his heavy pack with a loud thud on the floor. He stalks over to the couch and drops down onto it; his legs and feet are aching from the long, nearly five hour trek back to the QZ. Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans his head back and then closes  his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath of recovery he takes.

Taking off your own pack from your shoulders, you set it down beside his, and then walk over towards the couch too. However, instead of joining him as you usually did, you stand in front of it—in front of him, and although his eyes are still closed, you know damn well he can sense you standing there. 

And yet, he refuses to acknowledge you.

Shuffling your weight from one foot to the other, you wrack your brain in search of something, anything to say—though you know he’s exhausted, it’s still incredibly obvious that there’s a tension that lingers over the both of you. In reality, it had followed you and Joel the entire way back from Lincoln, but at least out in the open, it hadn’t seemed that bad. Now that you were back in the apartment and confined to such close quarters together, it could be sliced with a fucking machete. 

Finally, you speak, saying his name softly. “Joel?”

“Hmm?” comes his reply, his head still resting back on the couch.

“We should—um, we should probably talk.”

His eyes snap open, but he fixes them on the crumbling ceiling of the apartment. “Talk ‘bout what?”

“About the fucking weather outside,” you answer, flatly.

Joel lifts his head from the couch, raising an eyebrow at you. “Oh, is someone feelin’ like being a smartass tonight?”

You sigh irritably. You should have known better than to think Joel would actually make this easy for you. “Listen, about what happened back at Bill and Frank’s house earlier today—”

He’s quick, too quick, to cut you off. “It was nothin’.”

You feel your heart drop down deep into the pits of your stomach. “It was nothing?” you repeat after him, wondering if you’d looked just as stunned as you had sounded. “Really, Joel? It was nothing?”

Joel gives you a subtle, but curt nod. “We both know it was nothin’ at all. Best we just forget about it. Pretend like it never happened.” He stands up from the couch and kicks off his worn, faded leather boots. “S’real late. We should probably get to bed.” He brushes past you and starts towards the bedroom.

You spin around on your heel, and while your words are gentle, they hit him in the back like a ton of fucking bricks. “It wasn’t nothing to me, Joel.”

He halts abruptly in his tracks and freezes, his wide shoulders squaring.

“And you know what, I don’t think it was nothing to you either.”

Slowly, Joel pivots on his heel and turns around to face you. “You listen here. I ain’t exactly too sure where you went off and found the fuckin’ balls to even think you can speak for me, but I’m gonna need you to go put ‘em the fuck back right now or else we’re gonna have a problem, darlin’. That understood?”

A chill runs up the length of your spine. Though he keeps his voice calm, there’s slight, dangerous edge to his tone that almost makes you back down—somehow, you will yourself to stand your ground. “You said it to me yourself, Joel.” You lift your chin slightly. “Earlier in Lincoln. You said you don’t want a life without me. Remember that?”

Joel’s jaw clenches.

He couldn’t deny the exact words that had come out of his own goddamn mouth, now could he?

You take a careful step towards him. “Am I your weakness, Joel?”

Instantly, he drops his eyes away from yours, his voice lowering as he asks you, “Now where the hell would you get an idea like that?”

“Frank told me—” You stop  as he lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “He did, Joel. He said that I’m your weakness.”

“Did he now?” Joel’s eyes are now on the floor.

He can’t even look at you.

“Yeah. He did.” You take another step forward, and then another. And even when you stand right in front of him, your body just mere inches away from his, he forces himself to keep from meeting your gaze. “Joel?”

He stiffly shakes his head. “Don’t,” he utters through tight lips. 

You try again. “Joel?” Knowing he would be too stubborn to give in, you bend slightly at your knees, crouching down in front of him just a few inches or so, low enough to place yourself into his view. You then slide your index finger underneath his chin and lift it, forcing him to look at you as you draw yourself back up to your normal height. Your expression softens once you see the battle he’s fighting behind those tortured dark brown eyes of his. “Just tell me the truth, Joel. Please,” you beg him, softly. “Am I your weakness?”

Joel reaches up with his hand, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. He tears your hand away from his face and holds it down at your side, but doesn’t let it go. “Why the fuck are you askin’ me that? Huh?”

“Because,” you reply, the gentle tone of your voice causing his grip around your wrist to tighten. “You sure as hell are mine.”

Your eyes glaze over his parted lips, and before you can even think about making another move, Joel releases your wrist and both of his hands fly to either side of your face as he brings his mouth down to meet yours. Just like back in Lincoln, you thought he would attack you, devastate and ruin your lips with his—though he kisses you with fervency, you can feel that he’s being careful, almost as if he were afraid he would break you into pieces if he became too rough with you. You almost want to speak, let him know that there was no need for him to hold back, but you’re too preoccupied, far too busy getting yourself lost in the taste of him.  

Desperate to be even closer to him, your arms find their way around his neck and you close the remaining gap of space between the two of you by pressing your body flush against his.

This causes Joel to suddenly break away from you, your name falling from his lips in the most delicious way you’d never heard before.

“What?” you question him, breathlessly.

When he says nothing back to you, you take a step backwards, away from him, and lift your hands to the buttons of your blouse. Slowly, almost seductively, you undo the first top button and then move on to undo the second one. When the third one comes undone, you use your index finger to move the material of your blouse aside, revealing your bra underneath—the white lace sits delicately on the soft curve of your breast, igniting a blazing fire deep in Joel’s lower belly.

Though he longs to let you finish so he can see more of you, Joel catches both of your hands in one of his halfway down, stopping you from going further. “Don’t,” he warns you, his voice strained, hoarse. “Don’t go doin’ somethin’ you’ll regret, darlin’.”

You tilt your head slightly, giving him the most innocent, angelic look he’d ever seen in his entire fucking life. “You think I’ll regret this?”

Joel can only nod helplessly at you as you tug your hands out of his and turn your attention to his shirt instead. His breath audibly catches in his throat as your fingers start working on the buttons of his brown plaid flannel. Heart hammering painfully in his chest, he looks down at you as your hands move on from one button to the next. He’s become borderline intoxicated by the sweet, sweet scent of whatever shampoo you’d used back in Lincoln to wash your hair, and it’s causing him to lose his grasp on what very little common sense he has left.

Joel feels the heat flood to his face when you push his shirt off of his shoulders and take a long moment to admire his form. Sure, his physique may not have been what it used to be now that he was in his fifties in comparison to his younger days, but he’s still in decent shape. His upper body isn’t ridiculously built or muscular, but thanks to hours of physical labor in the QZ, he still had this broadness to him—Joel’s back, his shoulders, and his arms, fucking hell, those arms of his that you could just melt right into, arms that you would feel so safe in, no matter what.

Your eyes drink him in, and you find yourself memorizing every last distinguishing mark on his upper body. You make a mental note of every single freckle you see, of each and every one of the battle scars that he possesses and commit them to memory. You were certain that most of Joel’s scars had come from this life, but you had to wonder if any of them had come from his past life. His first life.

“I ain’t a pretty sight,” he murmurs, shaking his head slightly.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” Joel replies without missing a beat. He inhales sharply as you reach out and place the palm of your hand on his chest.

You can feel his heart slamming against his chest wall right against your hand. “Your heart is beating so fast,” you whisper. You step towards him and gingerly press your lips against his neck, causing him to draw another sharp breath of air.

Unable to fight his desire to touch you any longer, Joel reaches out to finish undoing the rest of the buttons on your blouse. He discards it on the floor along with his own shirt in one quick, swift movement.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as soon as his hands met your bare skin.

The contrast of his roughness and your softness just about drove him wild. He leans down, claiming your mouth with his once again, and although he tries to keep himself from being too rough with you, Joel can’t help how hungry his kisses are—he almost feels as if he’s a starving man who hadn’t had single crumb to eat in weeks, and you’re a three course meal that had miraculously fallen into his hands. He wants to devour you, and yet, Joel uses every ounce of strength he has in him to show at least a little bit of restraint. He knows you aren’t delicate, but he fears that if he isn’t careful, you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands much like a doll made of porcelain.

His teeth lightly nip at your bottom lip, his silent demand for more and you give it to him. He slides his hands up and down your sides, and while his touch is doing inexplicable things to your body that feel so fucking foreign, it also feels so fucking good. And you want more. 

So, so much more.

Joel groans into your mouth as you rake your fingernails down the front of his bare chest. “Baby.”

Your heart skips an eager beat.

Never in this lifetime did you think Joel Miller would call you that. But then again, never in this lifetime did you think you two would ever be in this position. Half naked, wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

“Baby.” He says it again, pulling away slightly.

“What’s the matter?”

“If we don’t stop right now—” Joel trails off mid-sentence, letting his two hands continue to roam and explore your upper body. He finds it in himself, finally, to push the delicate straps of white lace down your arms; you decide to lend him a hand and reach around your back to unhook the lingerie, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the stained linoleum floor. Pulling you flush against his chest, Joel groans again and then tears his lips from yours, moving them down to the sensitive flesh of your neck.

As he does  so, you start to guide him backwards towards the bedroom.

“Careful,” Joel mumbles against your skin, causing you to exhale a tiny, breathless little laugh.

Somehow, even with his arms wrapped around you and his lips fused to your neck, the both of you manage to get around the wide, single wall that divides the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. As Joel feels the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress—the very same mattress that you two had been sharing for the last few years—he lets out an odd noise, something in between a groan and a sharp exhale of breath. He snakes an arm around your waist and turns you so that he’s able to carefully lay you back onto the mattress. He follows in suit and crawls on top of you, his body hovering over yours.

“It ain’t too late, you know.” Joel pauses and brings a hand to your face. He brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes and tucks it behind your ear, his finger grazing your cheek as he does so. “It ain’t too late to stop.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to stop?”

“Yes.”

Your heart sinks. “You want to stop?”

“No.”

A puzzled expression crosses your features. “But you just said—”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t even fuckin’ know.” He closes his eyes, furiously shaking his head.

“Joel. Look at me.”

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Joel obliges. His pools of intense, dark brown swim with an array of different emotions, from lust and desire to concern and fear. “Things won’t be the same,” he tells you, shaking his head again. “We cross this line and there’s no goin’ back for us, do you understand that, darlin’?”

You chew nervously on your lower lip. Your hand is at the back of his head, your fingers anxiously toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. Of course you knew that there was no going back—but hell, you didn’t want to go back, not if it was to a time where you went about your days thinking that you meant nothing to Joel Miller. Not to a time where you didn’t know what it was like to be kissed by him, or to be touched by him.

Finally, you will yourself to reply to him.

“Is it shitty of me to say that I don’t care that we’re crossing a line we can’t come back from?” you ask, quietly. “It doesn’t fucking matter to me, Joel. I want this and I can tell that you do too.” The same hand that had been in his hair moves to the side of his face. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Losin’ you.”

You honestly hadn’t thought that he would actually give you a reply, at least not one that contained the truth, so when he does, it takes you completely by surprise.

“You won’t lose me,” you assure him, though you know better than to make a promise you weren’t absolutely certain you could keep in a world like this one. Joel had lost people, you had lost people, but you would do everything and anything that you could possibly do to keep from losing each other. “It’s like I told you in Lincoln, okay? We are in this together. I’ll never leave your side, Joel. Never.”

“But—”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

Joel leans down, letting his forehead rest against yours. “I want to. I want to believe you, I swear it. More than anythin’ in this world, I want to believe you. But my mind is sayin’ there’s just no fuckin’ way.”

You delicately touch your fingers to his chest, feeling his heartbeat again. “What about this, what does this say? This thing in here that I can feel racing against my fingertips as we speak?”

“It’s tellin’ me to make you mine.”

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you tilt your face up towards his for another kiss. This kiss is different from any of the others you two had shared that day.

No, this kiss was softer, it was tender—sweet like honey.

Loving, even.

“Then do it,” you encourage against his lips. “Make me yours.”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

“I do. More than anything, Joel.”

With your reassurance, he finally releases any hesitations he had, and Joel gives you a subtle nod of his head, one you almost didn’t catch.

He gingerly pushes you back onto the mattress and kisses you lightly on the lips one more time before he begins to trail his way down your neck. He continues to move down your chest and stomach, and as his nose skims against your skin with each kiss, Joel can still detect a hint of soap from your shower earlier that afternoon. As soon as he reaches your waist, his hands reach for the button and zipper of your jeans, undoing them both with ease. He lifts himself up on his knees, silently beckoning for you to lift up your hips so he can slide your jeans down your legs. You’d never been more grateful that you’d chosen a pair of pretty lace underwear instead of the usual cotton shit that you wore.

Joel hooks his index finger underneath the elastic waistband, slowly pulling them down your legs as well before tossing them aside. He lets his eyes lock themselves on every part of you, his burning desire for you only fueled by everything that he sees.

Much to your own surprise, you aren’t all too shy. There you are, lying before him completely bare—Joel can see everything, but you cannot possibly care less about any freckles, any stretch marks, any scars, or any other so-called imperfections on your body.

He’d let you see him—now you were letting him see you.

Joel would be lying if he said he’d never thought about this—thought about you like this. He had often tried his best to keep those thoughts at bay considering how much older he was than yourself, but fuck, he could never deny the fact that you were the prettiest damn thing he’d laid his eyes on since the world had gone to shit. Joel often imagined that every inch of you was nothing short of perfection and hell, he’d been right. He brings himself back down over you and lets his mouth make its way back down your body.

“Joel.”

The sound of your voice as you say his name is unrecognizable, to both you and to him. 

It’s low, husky, and like sweet music to his ears.

“What is it, baby?” He asks you as he stops right in between your legs. He glances up at you for a brief moment. His gaze meets yours, as if looking for permission to proceed. The instant he receives your nod of approval, Joel starts to plant another trail of burning kisses along the inside of your thighs, going back and forth from one to the other.

His beard scratches the delicate skin there as he carries on, moving slower and slower the further he goes up your legs in an effort to get your anticipation built up. You only find this agonizing and you’re just about ready to lose your goddamn mind. The moment you open up your mouth to tell him to cut it out with all of the teasing, Joel dips his head, his mouth finally moving to the apex of your thighs.

You gasp out his name, your back involuntarily arching off the bed.

Joel moans into you—something about how he just knew you would taste so fucking sweet—and lets his tongue swirl around your arousal, eliciting the most heavenly noises from you. He switches off between using long, firm strokes of his tongue over your clit and taking you into his mouth, his chosen technique causing your hips to buck upwards, asking for more. He hums against your cunt and lifts his arm, draping it across your hips to hold you down in place. The sounds escaping you, every curse word, every whimper, every little cry of pleasure, bounce off of the paper thin walls of the apartment.

Even though you’re certain your neighbors are getting an earful, the truth was that you couldn’t give two shits as to who heard you or not. Hell, there was a woman a few doors down the hallway who often threw suggestive glances at Joel when she saw him and you can only pray to the heavens above that she can hear what he’s doing to you.

You feel the beginning of an orgasm coiling up inside of you in your lower belly. It’s tightly wound, mere moments away from snapping and springing forward. With no sheets on the mattress for you to grasp, you clenched at air, trying your best to fight it in a futile attempt to draw the pleasure out for as long as you can. You never want this to end. Joel didn’t get the memo and he keeps on at it, and before long, his lips and tongue send you tumbling over the edge.

As you cry out his name over and over again, his mouth continues to keep at it slowly, helping you ride out the high of your orgasm. Once the sensation of the intense climax begins to subside, you drop your head back down onto the mattress and focus on trying to catch your breath.

Joel looks up at you and forces  himself to bite back his groan.

It’s  dim in the room, but the moonlight that filters in through the window illuminates what had to be the most stunning sight he’d ever fucking seen. Your hair wild, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your mouth plump, swollen from his kisses.

Joel pulls himself back up to you. His mouth meets yours, letting you get a taste of yourself. He then lets his thumb graze over your bottom lip, asking you, “You alright?”

“Just a bit breathless is all.” Suddenly, it dawns at you—what comes next. Up until this moment you had been fine, and now, your nerves feel like they had been lit on fucking fire. You swallow harshly, knowing you had to tell him. “Joel?”

Sensing the sudden shift, he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

 “Joel, I’ve never—the thing is, I’ve never—”

You stop, clamping your mouth shut, unable to say it out loud.

It takes  him a second or two, but he finally understands.

You’ve  never been with a man before. 

Not like that. Not like this.

“As much as I want you, we don’t have to go any further than this,” Joel assures you, his nose skimming lightly against your cheek. “You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, darlin’. No questions asked.”

And you believe him.

You know he would only take what you were willing to give him.

At this point, you were willing to give him everything.

Your hand reaches down between your bodies, brushing against the waistband of his jeans. “I don’t want to stop,” you tell him. “I really don’t.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you—?”

“Damn it, Joel! I said what I fucking said, now can you please get rid of these? Or am I going to have to do it for you?”

Joel drops his face into the crook of your neck for a second, letting out something mixed between a scoff and a chuckle before he finally obliges to your request.

He stands up from the mattress just long enough to unbuckle his old, worn out leather belt—he then unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off before climbing back over you.

You place a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you.

As you do, you feel his hard, thick cock brush against the inside of your thigh.

 “Joel,” you gasp out his name, wetness pooling between your legs all over again.

“Askin’ you one last time, sweetheart.” Joel’s mouth ghosts over yours. “You sure ‘bout this?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” You hope you don’t sound as desperate as you’re beginning to feel. “Please, Joel. I want you.”

You couldn’t have been anymore sure that this was what you wanted.

Still, that didn’t exactly stop the wave of apprehension from washing over you as you felt him settle himself between your thighs and against your entrance. Joel must have sensed your nervousness, because he pauses, pressing his lips against your forehead. He lets them linger for a moment, as if silently reassuring you that he would take it easy. He pushes himself inside of you, slowing down the further he goes. It hurts, at first. It’s a sharp feeling of discomfort unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Painful. You can’t help the small cry that escapes you, causing Joel to abruptly stop his movement. 

“Relax, baby,” Joel murmurs, taking your hand in his. He laces his fingers together with yours and gives it a gentle squeeze. He remains still as he waits, willing his body to listen to yours before picking up where he left off.

It takes you a minute to adjust to him, and while the discomfort doesn’t completely go away, a new sensation joins in, one of searing heat and the sudden urge to feel more of him.

Joel’s opposite hand is curled into a fist at the crown of your head, and he finds himself having to silently remind himself to get a grip. As much as he wants  to take you the way his body is telling him to take you, he refuses to do anything that can potentially hurt you. Though he’d given you his hand for the sake of comforting you, he found it ended up being more for his benefit than for yours. He holds it tightly as he gives another gentle, experimental thrust.

“Joel, move. Please. I need you to move.”

“Baby—”

“Please,” you all but plead him. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and push your hips forward, wanting to feel every inch of him that you could.

“Fuck!” Joel curses out in a moan. As careful as he wants to be with you, he knows that if you keep it up, that would all go out the fucking window.

Any discomfort or pain that you might have felt initially vanishes completely, having been replaced with nothing but explosive waves of ecstasy that come with each and every single one of Joel’s thrusts.

There isn’t one single part of you that isn’t lost in just the most heavenly haze as he picks up his pace and delivers swift, smooth strokes. Just when you think it cannot possibly get any better, Joel dips his head and begins whispering into the hollow of your neck. “You feel so good, baby. Fuck, I’ve been dreamin’ of this for years now, y’know that?”

“Joel,” you whimper his name.

“You’re mine, you understand me? You’re all fuckin’ mine,” Joel whispers breathlessly. He continues to pick up the pace as he demands, “Tell me you’re mine, sweet girl. Need to hear you say it—”

Biting your lip, you look up into his eyes and nod your head, managing to find your voice in between your moans. “I’m yours—all fucking yours, Joel.”

You’re close and so is he, you can feel it.

“Fuck!” Joel curses out as his entire body begins to shudder. He gives you one last, deep thrust that brings you both to come at the exact same moment.

Joel collapses beside you onto his back, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath and recollect himself.

You’re in a similar state, though perhaps a little more shaken.

“C’mere.” Joel pulls you close to him, tucking you into his side. “You’re tremblin’ a little. You alright?”

“I’m alright.” You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. “Are you?”

He remains silent, as if thinking over his answer.

Your throat goes dry—he didn’t regret it, did he?

“Joel—”

“Earlier, you asked me if you were my weakness.”

You nod. “Yeah…”

Joel pulls you so that you’re laying across his chest. He holds you close, squeezing you as if he’s afraid someone’s going to come along and snatch you out of his grasp. “Pretty sure you know by now that you are,” he says, his fingers subconsciously running themselves through your hair. “You’re my weakness, my Achilles’ heel, whatever the fuck you wanna call it—all I know is that if somethin’ ever happens to you, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Joel.”

“What if I can’t keep you safe?”

You frown. “Joel, I’ve been by your side for what, six years now? And you’ve always kept me safe. Hell, you saved my ass on the night we met. If it hadn’t been for you showing up and scaring those guys away—” You stop, shoving the thought of what could have possibly happened to you that night out of your mind. “I told you. I’m the safest when I’m with you. I know I am.”

“But—”

You silence him with a kiss. “Joel, stop looking for a reason to push me away.” You toss him a small, exhausted smile. “Besides, I think it’s a little late for that now anyway, don’t you think?”

You lay your head back down onto Joel’s chest and he continues to run his hand through your hair, over and over again. He surely must have known that he’s lulling you into a deep sleep.

“Joel?” you say his name, drowsily.

“What is it, baby?”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you mumble into his chest. “Ever.”

Joel holds you closer, trying with every fiber of his being to set aside his fears as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 34

read on ao3! (156k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 3.7k

Chapter 34:

Juliet's POV:

She wasn’t there when Elijah died.

Her body was, but her mind had retreated; her consciousness curled into a ball, eyes squeezed shut, hands over her ears, drowning out the horror beyond her eyelids.

She’d heard the story from Joel, bits and pieces of it here and there when anger and hurt clouded his judgement. 

No, Juliet hadn’t witnessed the moment her father stopped breathing, when those almost translucent blue eyes froze forever in an undoubtable look of terror when Joel’s fists met bone. 

She’d heard the rest of it from Ethan. His voice low as he recounted that when Joel was finished with Elijah, he had picked him up by the shoulders and planted him in the same fire used to mark her skin. Juliet would’ve liked to have seen that; her father reduced to blackened, burned skin, and bubbling blisters. 

Yes, she would have liked to have seen that. 

Despite this, Juliet was glad that she hadn’t witnessed the look on Joel’s face when he thought that she was dead. Ethan had told her that he had feared for his own life at that moment, terrified that Joel, in his rage of revenge, might have turned his deadly fists towards him too.

Juliet didn’t have to imagine when was going on in Joel’s head, she didn’t have to imagine the look on his face, because if she had slowed her current sprint along the ghostly streets of her old town enough to glance at her reflection in a faded shop window, Juliet would have seen that look reflected in her own eyes.

It wasn’t a long journey from the medic’s office to her old home but terror and exhaustion weighed on her, and the pain from being thrown around, choked, and butchered had forced a numbness to descend upon her body. It was the lack of pain in her hand that worried her, though. The bandage wrapped around the stump that was once her index finger was no longer white, instead, it had transformed into a deep, dark red colour, staining her already blackened hand a more vibrant, fresh shade. 

Fuck, she thought, gritting her teeth.

Juliet’s steps slowed to a gentle jog as she clung to the houses that lined the street near her old home. If he was dead… if she was too late… if she had killed him with her own selfishness…

Her battered body was wracked by a sob that tore its way out of her throat and Juliet had to slap her good hand over her mouth to stop the sound from altering her presence to whoever still lingered in the dark corners of this town.

She pushed it down, pushed all of the pain, the worry, the hatred towards herself and John and Elijah, pushed it all down until all that was left was a cold focus on getting to her old home, now visible from where she was standing on the street. 

Years of surviving had taught Juliet how to pause and assess a situation, to look at danger with her mind, not her heart. But god, was it difficult not to run up those porch steps, and push through the front door with her finger on the trigger of her gun.

It was around midday, the winter sun was bright in the sky and Juliet had to be careful not to be spotted, she didn’t have the luxury of the darkness to hide in. Though, luckily, only one other person knew this house as well as her, and that man was dead.

Juliet allowed herself a quick moment to look down at her maimed hand and attempt to flex her remaining fingers. 

The black spots that appeared in her vision warned her not to try that again.

Her teeth clenched down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and hot tears burned in her eyes.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

When she recovered, Juliet quickly took stock of her weapons. John’s gun was now tight in her good hand, and her knife was tucked in her boot. Her left hand was going to be a problem, but there was no time to test its movement again, lest she pass out on the street. 

Her old home lay on the end of the street. It was the only one turned outwards, facing all the other houses, like the seat at the head of the table; reserved only for those in some position of power.

That was what it had always represented: power. The power that Elijah had, and the power that she didn’t. 

When the house appeared in her nightmares, it was always after dark, where the light from the windows looked like a beacon calling her home. No, not calling for her return, but commanding it. 

Yet now, as Juliet stood on the frost covered grass, looking up at the house with the wind cooling her skin and the sun brightening the sky, it didn’t look quite so harrowing. The porch steps, which had once looked like a mountain, were crumbling, and the paint on the door, a vibrant, bright blue in her memory, was now faded and cracked. The glass on the windows were clouded with age and weeds had attacked the side of the house. Juliet hadn’t noticed such imperfections when she stood here only a few months ago, too distracted by Elijah and the thought of leaving Joel.

Now, with Elijah dead and Danny’s confession having exposed him as merely a sick, deprived stranger who stole her past but who had no claim on her future, the house had lost its foreboding atmosphere. There was no demon waiting for her behind the walls, there were only men, and Juliet had killed enough who had tried to take something from her… she could do it again.  

Ducking low and inching closer, Juliet’s footsteps halted to a firm stop when she noticed movement in the living room window.

Her heart raced and a sharp ringing sound flooded her mind.

The front entrance was out. Juliet had the element of surprise, she wasn’t going to lose that. Her numb feet and racing heart steered her around the side of the building to the backdoor connected to the kitchen. She drew closer this time, squinting as she struggled to see through the sun soaked window.

Juliet was about to head towards the door when she heard a voice coming from the kitchen. She stepped backwards with a sharp intake of breath. 

As she faded into the shadows lingering at the side of the house, her mind buzzed with decisions that her desperation was preventing her from making. 

There was no way to get into the house without alerting the two, maybe more, men who lurked inside. Juliet’s head fell back against the wall, the numbness in her hand had begun to fade, which brought forth a fierce throbbing pain descending down her wrist and forearm. She couldn’t fight like this.

Think, Juliet begged herself to focus. 

The back door creaked open and Juliet’s head whipped towards the sound. 

“Stay here, I’m gonna go check on John, he’s takin too long.” 

The man had just finished throwing the words behind him as he stepped out into the chill air that Juliet occupied. He was tall and gangly in a way that told her that this was not his natural build; he was starving. 

Juliet recognised him, but only vaguely. His name escaped her.

She didn’t move a single muscle, didn’t breathe a single breath. Her gun was clenched in her hand but Juliet didn’t dare tilt it towards him. If he just kept looking straight he wouldn’t see her, please don’t turn, please don’t turn, please don’t -

The door closed behind him with an unexpected bang, drowning out the gasp he let out when his eyes found Juliet.

Her gun was pointed at his chest before he could reach the weapon in his back pocket. He stood still, his hand paused a few inches away from his own gun. 

“Don’t,” Juliet bit out through her clenched jaw.

She didn’t want to alert the man inside. Let him think his friend was gone, let him think he’s alone, let him think he’s safe.

“Juliet?” the man in front of her asked cautiously, scanning her face, eyes widening when he undoubtedly noticed the blood splattered like freckles across her skin. 

He swallowed. “Where’s John?”

Juliet shook her head sharply and tightened her grip on the gun in her hand. 

“Hands in the air,” she ordered.

The man obeyed easily, a weak link perhaps, his fingers even began to tremble as he followed her command. Juliet shifted her stance, attempting to make herself appear taller.

“Where is he?” she practically growled, failing miserably to keep the desperation from her voice.

He blinked. “Inside.” 

His answer brought no relief to Juliet’s pounding heart.

“Is he alive?” she asked quieter, her voice low to keep from shaking. 

Joel’s unconscious body being dragged across the courtyard flashed through her vision and she had to stop herself from pulling the trigger just to feel some relief.

The man nodded vigorously, his eyes wide.

Juliet choked down a sob.

“How many other people are in there?” she questioned, darting her eyes towards the house.

His eyes followed hers as his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Don’t look there, look at me,” Juliet ordered as she stepped closer, watching as the man raised his hands higher and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Just one,” he answered.

Juliet weighed up her choices. If she shot the man in front of her, the sound would alert the other man inside and he might not be quite so amenable, but she was too injured to take the tall one down with a knife alone. 

“You don’t have to do this, Juliet. I - I didn’t want to hurt him. But he killed Elijah and -”

Juliet cut off his rambling by lifting her gun from his chest to his head. 

“I don’t want to fucking hear it,” she ground out.

She just needed a second to think. She couldn’t afford to make mistakes here, not with Joel’s life on the line. 

“Please, just - just let me go. I won’t tell anyone you’re here,” he cut off his ramble with a hard swallow. “I have a family, we’re starting. This is all I have… please.”

Juliet looked into the man’s eyes and saw her own desperation reflected back. She turned her head to the side and tried to tune him out as he continued to beg for his life.

Just one more time. She would be cruel and merciless just one more time, and then she was done. Then she would be good. 

Juliet blinked down at the knife in her boot. Maybe, if she was quick enough, she could take him down silently with the knife, but she was running out of time and her hand was starting to go numb again - 

From the corner of her eye, Juliet watched the man’s hand reach to his back pocket. 

Her bullet hit his skull before his fingers even touched the fabric of his jeans.

He fell quickly, his bloody head banging on the door as his body crumbled. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Juliet’s ears rang with the aftermath of the shot. Her breaths were quick and shallow. She’d lost the element of surprise. Whoever was inside was coming, she had to do something now.

Maybe it was the shock of killing or the pull from knowing that Joel was inside but, instead of stepping back, assessing the situation, letting the other man come to her… Juliet used her foot to push the body away from the door and she squeezed herself into the kitchen through the gap.

She briefly turned to look down at the body as she pushed herself through and her forehead crinkled when she noticed the edge of a photograph poking out from the pocket of the man’s jeans… the pocket he was reaching for.

Juliet felt acid rise in her throat but she didn’t have time for regret, she didn’t have time for anything, because two steps into the kitchen her vision wavered, briefly going fuzzy, then flashing entirely black. 

She felt her gun slip from her fingers, crashing to the floor.

Juliet blinked as her neck rolled to the side and she peeled her head off the wall it had been smacked into. She struggled against the hands that curled around the shoulders of her jacket, dragging her across the room in a mess of turning and twisting. Juliet screamed when her injured hand hit against the man’s hard body, the pain licked up her entire arm like a fast catching fire. 

“Shut the fuck up,” the man grunted as Juliet started clawing at his face with her unmaimed hand. Her vision was returning slowly and she could make out the dining room she was pulled into and then felt the hard wood of the chair she landed in. 

Juliet felt a pricking static sensation in her head, warning her that she was about to faint. No, NO, she screamed within her mind, begging herself to stay awake, to look up, to fight back. 

A flash of scorching pain hit her cheek and Juliet jolted up, wide awake as her eyes fell on the man crouched in front of her, pinning her wrists together. 

“What’d you do to John?” he demanded, twisting her injured hand at an unnatural angle. 

Juliet clenched her teeth so hard she swore she could feel them crack. Pain was consuming her, swallowing her whole but she couldn’t let it fester, she couldn’t let it stop her from saving Joel. 

Anger was a fierce and sudden bullet, pounding in her chest, bringing her strength when she had none. 

“I gutted him,” Juliet seethed. “Just like he was going to do to me.”

She saw the realisation ripple in the man’s eyes. Juliet watched him question it, scan her face, note the dried splatters of blood, then as quick as her own, she watched his anger flood him. 

“You fucking bitch,” he spat as he released his hold on her hands and his strong grip reached for her throat. 

Juliet had fought a lot of men over the last few years, with too many scars to prove it, and if there was one lesson she had learned from every time she found herself at the mercy of their stronger fists and larger builds is that when men get angry, they become very stupid. 

With her hands released from his grip, she slid down to her boot, gripping her knife as the man’s fingers brushed her tender neck. As he began to squeeze, crushing her windpipe and extinguishing all air from her lungs, Juliet angled her knife and pushed, biting into flesh.

“Fuck,” the man grunted as he released her and sunk back, gripping his bleeding thigh.

Juliet didn’t waste her opportunity, she used her foot to kick him onto his back and she dug her knee into his chest with her knife to his throat.

Her breathing was sharp and uncontrolled as she struggled to regain the rhythm of air in her lungs.

“Joel,” Juliet said, her voice thick and raspy, “where is he?” she demanded. This house was large and time was precious, if she could pinpoint Joel’s location before killing the idiot beneath her it would speed things up.  

The man bared his teeth and gripped her arms, attempting to push her off of him, unwilling to answer.  

Another stupid decision, Juliet thought, being that the pointed edge of her knife was nearly piercing his skin. 

She shook her head and pushed the tip in until blood pooled in the hollow of his throat. 

The man gasped and stilled the movement of his hands, watching her with a growing expression of disgust.

“You’re fucking your father’s killer, huh?” he snarled through clenched teeth, “what would he think of his little girl now?” 

Juliet surprised herself with the laugh that bubbled out of her. Even as she had a knife to his throat, the man still saw her as a little girl. What power those words would have had on her only a few years ago, but now… now she felt nothing. 

“Rot in hell,” she whispered, then drove the knife forward.

Juliet didn’t waste any more time on the man bleeding out on the floor. She just swung her leg off of his chest and stood, wiping her knife on her trousers.

Then she walked out the dining room on weak legs while the man’s gargles and coughs faded as he choked on his own blood. 

It was only her and Joel now, she just had to get to him.

Juliet stood in the hall, blood roaring in her ears as she begged her memories of this house not to eat her alive. 

Her eyes caught sight of the basement door and Juliet’s stomach dropped. He was down there, Juliet was sure of it. If they wanted revenge on the man who killed Elijah, surely they would take him back to the scene of the crime.

Her hand met the handle. It was unlocked.

Juliet’s knees almost gave out. The men clearly weren’t worried about Joel trying to leave, that meant… that meant…

She swung the door open and her feet crashed down the fourteen steps to the basement, nearly stumbling at the bottom as Juliet whipped her head around, trying to find Joel in the low light. 

Something inside her knew what they would have done with him, so Juliet allowed her feet to take her to him, to take her to his motionless body in the metal chair by the unlit fireplace. 

Time didn’t exist at that moment, it was as though the earth stopped turning. 

Her hand swept over his face and her fingers dug into his wet hair. Juliet felt the acid in her stomach rise as she realised that the wetness was blood. It covered his forehead and dripped down the back of the metal chair.

He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving? 

“Joel, Joel, JOEL,” Juliet started to chant at varying volumes. Her voice was trembling and her words were slurred as she gripped his wrist, desperately trying to find a pulse.

His skin was so cold, Juliet couldn’t understand why it was so cold. 

Her fingers were shaking, she couldn’t find a pulse.

Juliet wasn’t sure when the tears started but she began to see them drip onto Joel’s face, mixing in with the blood which lay on his skin. Finally, her legs gave out and Juliet slid down to the ground until her head rested on Joel’s thighs. 

“Please come back,” she begged through her trembling sobs, “please don’t leave me.”

This was all her fault. This was all her fault. This was all her fault. 

They should have stayed in Jackson, they should have never left. Joel should have stayed away from her, she was too damaged, too selfish, too desperate. 

She did this, she did this. 

“I’m sorry,” Juliet cried, grasping her good hand around the material of his jacket, pulling and tugging as though it would wake him up, as though it would save him. 

Juliet, still sobbing, began to crawl up his body until her forehead rested against his. 

“Please don’t leave me,” she wailed, “I can’t do this without you.”

She began to kiss his face, curling her arm around his neck and rocking him towards her. “Please don’t leave me. Please.”

Her love for Joel was pouring out of her, her breath was caught in it, it was choking her. She never got to say it to him, she never got to tell him that she loved him. Juliet had been too afraid, too angry at him, too angry at herself. She was too fearful of what it would mean. 

Now, she had lost her chance.

“I love you,” Juliet whispered against his bloodied skin. “I’m sorry.”

Her fingers traced his face and fell to his neck, curling around his throat, trying to pull him closer.

He can’t be gone. He can’t be gone. He can’t be gone. 

Movement pulsed beneath her fingertips. Juliet’s head pulled back so fast she felt darkness tinge the edges of her vision. 

She pressed harder against his throat and waited, and waited, and - 

A pulse. She felt it. 

Juliet gasped, intaking too much air and nearly choking. He was alive, barely, but surely she didn’t imagine the feel of his heart slowly beating.

“Joel,” she sobbed, touching his face, willing his eyes to open, willing herself not to be imagining this fierce thread of hope. 

He wasn’t waking up, he still wasn’t moving. The minutes stretched beyond their limits.

Juliet brushed the bloodied hair off his forehead. “I love you,” she croaked, “please come back to me.”

If he just woke up, she could get him on his feet, they could get out of the basement. Juliet would find him some medical supplies for his head and they could leave this place, they could go back to Jackson. 

If he just opened his eyes, a future would still exist for her. Because, without him… Juliet didn’t want to keep going. He was her hope, her belief that things could get better. If he didn’t wake up - 

A low groan slid from Joel’s grey lips. 

Juliet staggered back, giving him his space. His eyes were moving beneath his eyelids, and his fingers began to curl into fists. 

“Joel,” she breathed. 

His eyelids cracked open. Joel’s brown eyes found her, then his mouth moved in the shape of a word but no sound came out.

Juliet reached for his face, the bloodstained tears that poured from her eyes met his leather jacket, but she kept going, she couldn’t stop touching him, she couldn’t stop reminding him that she was here, to come back to her. 

His lips curled again, spelling out a word she still couldn’t make out. 

“Don’t try to speak,” she urged in a trembling voice, “it’s okay.”

Joel reached for her, his fingers grasping on the ruined jacket that once belonged to him. She moved forward, pressing herself against him, allowing him to pull her in.

Finally, she heard the word he kept chanting:

“Juliet.”

............................................

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom @joelmillersblog @socialistmary @orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @caitlynsixxx

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Ten

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 4,297

The aftermath of events in the town leads Joel to see you in a new light.

Warnings for canon typical violence and bloodshed. Slight spoiler regarding a wound that Joel will (presumably) receive in the series, but no mention of how it actually happens.

Come Home

Chapter Ten - Every Cloud

When Joel wakes it’s still dark outside, the winter sun slow to rise. He stirs, sits up with a grunt and stretches his arms above his head before rolling his shoulders.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice thick with sleep and even huskier than usual.

“Not quite yet,” you say with a smile. “You can get another hour if you want.”

“Naw, I’m good,” he replies before shuffling out of the sleeping bag and sitting on the edge of the camp bed. “But I think you should,” he adds as he takes in your tired face.

“I’d be offended if I wasn’t going to definitely take you up on that offer,” you joke.

He smiles and stretches again as he stands, his plaid shirt riding up a little over his hips and revealing a flash of skin, a smattering of dark hair under his belly button. You see a scar on his abdomen – a puckered and darkened circular patch that you assume must have come from a gunshot and you wonder how he could have survived such a wound.

Casting your eyes to the ground, you make a show of fiddling your book back into your bag and by the time you yourself stand up, he has strolled over to his own pack. You collapse gratefully back onto the camp bed, immediately snuggling into the sleeping bag and briefly recognising that you feel cosy and warm and surrounded by his musky, masculine scent before drifting back off.

Breakfast is brief for horses and humans alike, and by the time you’ve repacked your now much emptier saddlebags and backpacks, the sky is still periwinkle blue, shot through with clouds of lilac and pink. The plan is simple. Bring the horses to a spot near to the large store and find a suitable and secure garage to leave them for a while. Then, quietly proceed on foot and investigate what you can of yesterday’s shootout. If all goes well, you’ll hit the store after that and start the ride back to Jackson in the early afternoon. If.

The first part of the day goes without a hitch. A street of large colonial townhouses with an eerie, faded beauty that are situated between the store and your exit is discovered, and you and Joel make a thorough sweep of one before settling the horses in the empty garage with a supply of food and water.

Next, you gingerly approach the main street, skirting the alleys and smaller roads that lead away from it until you come upon the scene that you had watched play out yesterday. All is silent and still, the only movement coming from the icy breeze that ruffles the tattered clothing of the infected and the blood and brain-stained hair of the one who hadn’t been given a chance to turn.

His clothes are military, a hodge-podge of a bullet proof vest with a faded FEDRA logo on the breast, dark camo pants and battered, yet sturdy combat boots. It wasn’t a complete FEDRA uniform, and the guns and ammo that you liberate from his lifeless body aren’t standard FEDRA issue, but there was every chance that he was some sort of renegade, disillusioned with the status quo in a QZ and seeking a different sort of life beyond its walls. Or he could have murdered a group of them and taken what he wanted. Either way these clearly aren’t your run of the mill survivors and you and Joel exchange a meaningful glance and you feel the tension in the air tighten.

As you follow the path of where they had retreated, you see more dead infected – six in all, plus another of their number face down in the snow, the exit wound in his head gaping to the sky. His ammo and guns are also taken and the mental tally in your head ticks down one more. Three to go. That you know of at least.

Nothing impedes your progress along the road. There are more dead infected scattered here and there but no one else, and even as you are grateful that these people seem to have saved you the job of clearing the town yourselves, you are on edge. They are heavily armed. There are more of them than you. And they know how to defend themselves. An unhappy, acid feeling settles itself into your guts as you finally enter what was a parking lot long ago, your objective looming ahead and looking both welcoming and sinister in equal measures.

The doors are thrown open and the glass and splintered wood that lie on the ground speak to a violent and hasty entry. The ivy that has twisted its way around the debris shows that this happened long ago. The trampled leaves, however, are immediately obvious as a newer development. Joel sees it as you do, and you both draw your guns before you enter.

The store isn’t as intact as you had previously thought. Part of the ceiling has caved in, relatively recently given the absence of plant life covering the chasm above. It serves to shed some welcome light, though it also deepens the shadows at the extremities of the space. The shelves you can see are mostly bare, a few pathetic looking bottles and dusty packages scattered here and there.

It doesn’t take long before you spot it up ahead. It’s unmistakeable - that weird, hunched up way of standing some runners have, like they’re weeping into their hands for their lost humanity. Joel taps your arm and mimes to you that he will take care of it quietly, but that you should cover the situation just in case. You nod your understanding and he carefully and slowly tucks his pistol away, careful not to make any noise. Just because you hadn’t heard any clickers, didn’t mean that there weren’t any.

He sneaks between the shelves, ensuring that the runner’s back is to him. It continues to rock on its feet, making those awful sobbing noises that had haunted you for years after the initial outbreak. Closer…closer…until he lunges, grabbing the infected by the neck, his meaty forearm enclosing it in a crushing chokehold. It struggles, hissing noises and gurgles emanating from its steadily shattering larynx until finally it succumbs to the inevitable. Joel gently and silently lowers it to the floor before you move to join him. The infection was fresh, the same mix of camo and FEDRA uniform that you saw outside garbs it. Two to go.

The sports section of the store is, inevitably, a mess. Almost anything that could be construed as a weapon, as well as the weapons themselves, are gone. Shelving units lie in disarray and glass from casings are smashed to smithereens and mixed with the debris from the fallen roof. Cautiously, picking your way over the mess of the floor, you hug a wall with a tattered, half fallen banner proclaiming 50% off something or other. Joel is an aisle over, treading softly as he moves his torch and gun over the shadows toward the back of the store. You hear the soft shuffle of leather and then the scrape of metal as he picks up a baseball bat from where it has been abandoned and recognise the wisdom in having a quieter weapon to hand while you don't seem to be in any immediate danger from the living, putting your own gun away in favour of drawing your machete.

The mirrored side of a display case saves your life. A flicker of movement in its dirty glass grabs your attention a split second before a hoarse shout comes from beyond a previously unseen doorway, and suddenly a runner is barrelling at full speed toward you out of the changing rooms, its bloody fingers clawing at the air ahead of it in anticipation of reaching your face. You dimly register another scream from the darkness to your left, and push it out of your mind as you take aim and slam your machete as hard as you can into the head of the thing in front of you. Blood explodes from it, and it falls to the floor twitching, still howling, still trying to get at you until you wrench your weapon out and hit it again, this time stilling it for good.

Another scream in the darkness ahead and your blood freezes as you try to tug the machete free. It won’t come, buried too deeply as it is in the skull of the monster on the ground. You fumble for your gun instead, but it’s too late. A force slams into you, knocking you to the floor, rattling your teeth and driving the breath from your body as well as the gun from your holster. Rolling eyes and teeth and blood and deafening snarling in your ears as you brace against the writhing runner’s neck with one arm and scrabble on the floor for something, anything with the other. The broken shard of glass that you drive into its eye does minimal damage and you know you have mere seconds before it breaches your defences. Something heavy, something sharp brushes against your hand and you grab on to it properly before wedging it up between your bodies and driving it fully into the nightmare face above you. It stills, finally it stills and you push it off quickly to go and help Joel, who is in fact already scrambling to come and help you after having defeated his own foe.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay,” you reply quietly, your own breath coming in stunted gasps.

“You’re bleeding.” His voice is dull, suddenly devoid of emotion and you look down at your red-stained palm, holding it up to him so he can see the clean slash of it.

“Glass,” you reply. “Or maybe-“ You turn back to observe your handiwork.

“Well…that’s a new one,” he remarks wryly. The hockey skate is just as firmly embedded in the second runner’s skull as your machete is buried in the first and you can’t help the bubble of nervous laughter that bursts from your lips.

“You sure you’re not hurt?” he asks again, his meaning clear as he hands you a bandage for your hand.

“It got my coat. Didn’t go through,” you confirm as you briefly shed the garment to show him your distinctly blood-and-bite free arm. “Thank God its cold and I have twenty six layers on.”

Joel manages to wrench your machete free and wipes it unceremoniously on the runner’s jacket before giving it over to you.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Guess there were more of them.”

“Guess so-“ he begins before you both whirl at another noise from the back of the store. No clicking, no howling screams. This sounds more like someone trying to move stealthily through the mess on the floor. Joel tenses, draws his gun again and you move quietly together toward the sound. It came from the direction of the large counter at the back, long-silent cash registers standing atop it like sentinels.

There is no one behind there, but there is a door, a large “Staff Only” sign on it. Joel motions for you to step back then grasps the handle and gently turns it, but before he can push, it flies open and another figure hurtles through. The man clearly hoped to get some sort of jump on you, but Joel is ready and merely turns, using the man’s own momentum to hurl him, dumping him to the floor before training his pistol unerringly at the man’s head.

“Don’t fuckin’ move,” Joel growls.

Your own gun is back in your hands, without you really remembering drawing it, and you step forward, also with the man in your sights. He’s young-ish. Thirty maybe, definitely born before the world went to shit, but probably doesn’t remember much about it. He has the same FEDRA vest on, the same combat boots.

Joel backs away, keeping his gun trained on the man who takes the opportunity to sit up, his hands held in surrender.

“I said don’t fuckin’ move!”

“Okay, okay,” the man acquiesces, settling back down on the floor and holding his hands up further in deference and defeat. “Let’s just be cool about this.” He eyes Joel warily, and then his gaze skates over to you. They linger on your chest and you feel a swirl of disgust in your stomach.

“Where are the rest?” you ask, your voice clipped and harsh as you demand an answer.

The man looks you up and down again before he gives a gloomy kind of giggle his head lolling back against the door behind him. “Dead. But you got ‘em from what I could hear.”

“Why are you here?” Joel demands.

“Why does anyone do anything anymore? Survival, man. A couple of us were looking for stuff in here when we heard the gunshots outside. Apparently one of my buddies got bit before he made it inside. Turned in the night. We had a pact, man. You get bit, you tell. Guess when the time came he was too chickenshit to actually do it. I hid in there." He jabs a thumb behind him in the direction of the door. "Let it play out”

“And what about you?” Joel asks menacingly, advancing a few steps forward.

“Woah, woah, easy. I’m clean. I swear.” Joel doesn’t move and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head, weighing up the cost of believing this stranger. “Though I guess I would say that,” the man adds in a quieter tone of voice.

“Prove it,” you say in an icy tone.

His voice is now distinctly skeevy for someone with two guns trained at his head. “Hey lady, how should I do that? Huh? You want me to strip? At least buy me a drink first, sheesh.”

You roll your eyes. “Look, fucko, either you can prove it, or I can shoot you. Take your pick.”

The man looks toward Joel as if he thinks he will find some succour in that granite monolith. Unsurprisingly, he does not.

“Un-fucking-believable,” the man mutters as he begins to stand.

“Slowly,” Joel barks.

The man obeys, taking off his bulletproof vest, his thick sweater and t shirt. By the time he is unlacing his boots and pulling them off he is shivering in the frigid air, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much. You still don’t know what you’ll do if he is clean. Take him back to Jackson? Send him away in the opposite direction with supplies and best wishes? His very presence so close to the town is a threat and your grip tightens painfully on your gun as he finally straightens up, now just in his boxer shorts.

“See?” he says, making a slow, shuffling revolution. You dip your torch up and down his body, checking that he is being truthful. It appears he is, though his skin is marred by reddish black bruises as well as several distinctive scars, some healed, others very fresh, one still covered with a dressing that looks to be several days old.

“Fine. Get dressed.” Joel still doesn’t move as he gives the order. By the brevity of his tone you guess that his thoughts are running along the same path as yours.

“So uh…where are you guys from?” the man says, his voice entirely too over-eager.

“None of your goddamn business,” growls Joel.

“Gotta be close,” he continues, seemingly blithely unaware of the danger he was digging himself deeper into. “Look like you’re well fed, got plenty of supplies. And I didn’t hear a car draw up so…” He trails off as he pulls the sweater back over his head and faces you again.

“And what about you?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you step forward. “Any more of your ex-FEDRA buddies in the area? Or did you just happen to come across a group of them and they gave up their shit willingly?”

The man huffs another brief and humourless laugh. “Not willingly. Some patrol moving from one QZ to another. Or scouting supplies, who knows? I lived under FEDRA long enough. My conscience is clear.” Well…you supposed you couldn’t blame him for that attitude.

“As for where we come from. Here and there. We got a camp a few miles away. Lots of people. Women and children too.” His tongue comes out to wet his lips, an involuntary gesture. “Matter of fact my girl’s pregnant. We were just looking for a place to settle, thought this might be the one-“

A harsh burst of laughter escapes your lips. “Now that…that is bullshit.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Joel’s gaze flick to you briefly as you take another step forward to fall in line with him. “And you wanna know how I know that? You’re beat up pretty bad. And I know what the aftermath of a goddamn knife fight looks like. If you really had a safe, cosy home to be in nearby, you wouldn’t have wounds that fresh or dressings that old. Or maybe your “buddies” just enjoyed stabbing you for fun, hmm?” A steely note of fear has crept into the man’s eyes, robbing him of his previous facetious demeanour and you know you’ve hit the mark.

“And besides that,” you continue softly. “You’ve been eyefucking me every moment we’ve been here. There are no women at your camp, if you even have a camp. And if there are I feel desperately fucking sorry for them. You’re a liar.” On the last word, you pull the trigger. He doesn’t even get a sound out before he collapses to the ground, the inside of the back of his skull now decorating the door and wall behind him.

Tucking your gun away, you turn back to Joel. “Well...shall we?”

More guns and ammunition are found in the Staff Only area, as well as some food and first aid supplies. The store also gives up a couple of bows and some arrows, as well as some screwdrivers, nails, winter clothing and a lone pack of sanitary pads. It holds some more frivolous items too, including what you hope will be Ellie’s Christmas present. You debate with yourself for a full minute about how hygienic some of this stuff could be at this point before shrugging and grabbing a few items of make up, feeling an odd little twinge of guilt as you do so.

The ride back to Jackson is peaceful. You feel it seep into your bones. The calm. The still. The certainty that you had done your duty to protect what you had. Joel has an air of pensive distractedness about him and has done since you had left the store lifeless and silent once again. You weren’t entirely sure what he was thinking – if anyone was a closed book it was him – but you didn’t get the impression that he was upset with you in any way. More that he was lost in thought about something or other.

You eat as you ride, pulling out a wrap of venison jerky and offering some to Joel alongside you.

“Thanks,” he says shortly, the first word he’s said since you started the journey back. You’ve just taken a much larger bite than intended when he speaks to you again and when he does his voice is tinged with soft amusement

“You know who you remind me of?”

You look over at him, raise a questioning eyebrow as you attempt to chew the tough meat more hurriedly.

“Bubbles.”

Finally you manage to swallow most of what you’ve bitten off. “Okay, Joel you really gotta stop bringing me in halfway through cryptic conversations.”

He smiles more widely at you before he responds. “You ever see the Powerpuff Girls?”

“…yeah? Didn’t think that would be your kinda thing if I’m honest.”

He drags his gaze away from you and looks out over the snowy landscape ahead. “Not me. My uhhh…my daughter, she loved ‘em when she was little. At one point I swear the whole house was nothin’ but pink and blue and green. She even took up karate, wanted to fight like ‘em before she realised team sports were more her thing.” He smiles more sadly this time and you hardly dare to breathe for fear of breaking whatever spell was making him open up to you like this.

He darts his head up to look at you again and for the first time since you’ve met him, your eyes directly meet his. The dappled, golden sun is catching them repeatedly as the horse plods on, caramel to deepest chocolate and back again as he rides. They are stunningly beautiful, soft in winter’s light and you drop your gaze to his lips, struggling to tune back in to what he is saying.

“You remind me of Bubbles. You look at her and she seems like someone who needs to be taken care of. Sweet.” Wait…does he think you're sweet?

“Cute.” Does he think you’re CUTE?!

“And then you see her in action and you realise she might just be the most dangerous one of all of ‘em.”

Gaping, you stare at him in stunned shock. Of all the conversations you thought you’d ever have with Joel this hadn’t even begun to feature, and it's not just because of the absurdity of the subject matter. You say the only thing your short circuiting brain will allow you to at this time.

“Well…she was my favourite.”

“Mine too. Sarah, she preferred Buttercup.” Ah. The mystery of Sarah resolved, and another piece of the puzzle that is Joel slots into place. His smile fades as he looks at you, and a seriousness permeates his features once again.

“I think we can keep what happened between ourselves. He died in the shootout with the rest. No reason to stir anything up back home.”

“I did what needed to be done-“ you begin, frowning, and he holds up a hand to stop you.

“I agree,” he says smoothly. “But some might see it different because he wasn’t infected. And he was unarmed. Probably think we shoulda brought him back, see how he got on in Jackson. Tommy and Maria are tough sonsabitches, but sometimes they’re too damn good. And some others there barely know what its like outside anymore. They couldn’t survive without other people makin’ the tough calls. It’s easy to judge when you’re sittin’ pretty.

You jaw twitches as you look down at the horse’s mane bobbing up and down in front of you and force down the flare of anger that threatens to overtake. You had been so sure of your righteousness, so certain that it was a good call.

“Hey.” Joel touches your arm, pulls it back so you tug on the reins and both your horses pull up to a stop. Reluctantly, you look up at him.

“If you hadn’ta done it, I would,” he confesses, and you see the truth of it burning fiercely in his eyes.

Later that evening, when you have been welcomed back into town, debriefed, and your found supplies whisked away to join the stores you walk back to your house with Joel, the thrumming levity that always came after a successful foray jangling through you. It was different, though, this time. Joel’s voice saying the words “sweet” and “cute” kept sweeping through your mind, adding to the thrill in your blood. The prospect of the winter’s dance was also a source of warm and pleasant agitation, and you couldn’t remember the last time you were excited about something that didn’t revolve around food or supplies. Then there was Ellie’s Christmas present, something which you also hoped would involve Joel, and as you walk up your porch steps you gear yourself up to ask him what you need to.

“So…I have a bit of a weird question to ask you.”

“Oooh my favourite kind,” he smiles, leaning against the wooden frame of your porch as he looks up at you.

“Are there any lakes or big ponds in Jackson?”

“Uh… not within the walls, but there’s a lake not too far out. You wanna go ice fishin’ or somthin’?”

“Not exactly. But if you can stand to come out with me for another day, there’s something I’d like to do.”

“I think I could stand that,” he smiles as he folds his arms and shifts his weight to one leg. “Wanna tell me what it’s all about, Bubbles?”

The nickname catches you off guard and you giggle. “What, have I gotta call you Mojo Jojo now?”

“Naw, no way am I as smart as that monkey.”

You laugh, fully laugh as the joy you have been feeling finally spills past your lips and his eyes crinkle to black as his smile grows wider.

“It's gonna be a surprise,” you grin. “But to sweeten the deal, I promise I’ll bring some coffee.”

“Yup. Sold,” he says, stretching out his hand for you to seal the deal. You take it, and your skin tingles as his thumb lightly brushes over the back of your hand. This time, he holds you for a beat longer than necessary and when he finally drops it you’re surprised to see his grin recede into something almost coy.

“Well, goodnight,” he says a little gruffly, pushing himself away from your porch and heading over to his own.

“Night Joel,” you reply, your voice emerging more tenderly than you had anticipated.

He gives a final wave before disappearing into his house, and you step inside your own to be alone with your happy yet tumultuous thoughts.

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Next chapter

[soulofapatrick]

The Last Dance - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You and Joel share a domestic moment before you have to leave the Boston QZ to deliver Ellie to the fireflies

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst but fluffy too

Notes: Listen to We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn while reading 

Y/N’s POV

The air is thick with tension as Joel and I prepare to leave the QZ and embark on our dangerous mission. We’re silently pack our bags and checking our weapons, knowing what is at stake. Tess has gone to prepare things and scope out a route with the least about of danger before picking Ellie up on her way back to us. My heart is full despite the situation we’re about to head into as Joel and Tess trust me enough to bring me with them.

I had first met Joel and Tess shortly after arriving at the Boston QZ. I was alone and scared, everyone from the group I was travelling with dead or abandoned me and I was a scared seventeen year old trying to navigate my way through the unfamiliar streets. I remember feeling like a lost child, vulnerable and exposed. Then I saw them.

- - 

They were walking down the dusty street, their backs straight and their eyes scanning their surroundings with an intensity that made me feel like I was intruding on something private.

Tess was the first to turn and look at me, and I was struck by her appearance. She was tall and lean, with a lithe, athletic build that suggested she was no stranger to physical exertion. Her hair was a short, shoulder length mass of chestnut, and her eyes were a bright, almost electric blue that seemed to see right through me. She wore a tight-fitting leather jacket and dark cargo pants, both of which were worn and weathered from use.

Joel, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice me at first. His gaze was fixed on something in the distance, his face set in a hard line. He was a broad-shouldered man with a greying beard that matched his fluffy soon to be salt and pepper hair. His eyes a deep brown that seemed to hold a world of pain and experience, and his face etched with lines that spoke of a hard life lived. He wore a simple button-down shirt and cargo pants, both of which were practical and unassuming.

As I approached them, I couldn't help but feel intimidated by their presence. They looked like they had seen and survived things that were beyond my wildest imagination. But, as they turned to face me, their expressions softened, and I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they could help me.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice shaky. "Do you know where I can find shelter?”

"Come with us," Tess replied finally after the pair studied me for a minute or two, her voice commanding and firm, making the scared child within me unable to say no, especially when she softened a little and that Illinois accent came through when she added, "We can help you.” 

And just like that, I was welcomed into their circle. They showed me where to find food and shelter, and taught me how to navigate the QZ safely. Over time, we grew closer, sharing stories about our lives before the outbreak and dreaming about what the future might hold.

- - 

I must have stopped packing as a large and calloused hand brushes my arm reassuringly, Joel appearing in my line of sight with his brow creased in worry and… nervousness? There’s a song playing on the old record player I had scavenged months ago: We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn. Joel’s hand moving down my arm until he’s holding it out for me to take and asking with a small and rare smile on his weatherworn lips, "May I have this dance?" 

I can’t mask the surprise, but I don’t decline, slipping my hand into his and letting him pull me flush against his chest. There’s something vulnerable in those honey eyes of his as the light from the single lamp casts a warm glow over the room and I think I’m still daydreaming as no way the tough, no-nonsense survivor who has been through so much is asking me to dance. But we are dancing. We start to sway slowly, his strong and safe arms wrapped around my waist and my head moving to rest on his shoulder, feeling his body against mine all muscular and warm. I’ve missed this kind of human connection, finding some peace and calm amidst the chaos. It's like time has stopped, and we're in our own little world, away from the danger and the fear or what’s to come this evening. We’ve been though so much, fighting tooth and nail to survive in this shitty post apocalyptic world and moments like this are now few and far between.

As we dance, I can’t help but let myself feel a sense of comfort and safety wash over me. Joel's presence is grounding, reminding me that even in this brutal world, there can be moments of tenderness and connection. I close my eyes and let myself get lost in the music, in the sensation of being held by someone who cares about me even if he’s unable to utter those exact words I’ve been wanting to hear for months. 

But then Joel speaks up, breaking the silence.

"I know… I know this is risky, what we're about to do," he says, his voice low and serious. "But I also know that it's important. We're doing something good, something that will make a difference."

I look up at him, struck by the intensity in his eyes. I can’t ignore it, a feeling of unspoken love that seems to flow between us. It's as if we're communicating without saying a single word, and in that moment, nothing else matters but the two of us. I can feel his heart beating against mine, and as we move together, I can't help but feel that this is where I belong, wrapped in his arms, lost in his gaze. It's as if the world around us has faded away, leaving just the two of us and the music. I know that we have a dangerous mission ahead of us, that we'll be facing untold dangers and risks, but for now, all that matters is this moment, this dance, and the unspoken love that we share.

"I know," I finally speak, my voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't make it any less scary."

Joel nods, understanding.

"I know," he says, voice just as soft and quiet. "But we have each other. We're in this together."

As we dance, Joel's hand rests gently on my back, pulling me closer. I rest my head against his chest again, feeling his heartbeat under my ear. It's a comforting sound, and I close my eyes, cherishing this moment of peace. Trying to ignore the silent weight of our mission pressing down on us and the knowledge that we might not all make it out alive. But in this moment, with Joel holding me close and the music playing, it's easy to forget. It's easy to imagine that we're just two people in love, lost in each other.

And maybe that's what we are, in a way. We've been through so much together, seen things that no one should ever have to see. But through it all, we've found something special between us. Something that's kept us going, even in the darkest moments. He feels it to with the way his fingers hook under my chin and make me look up at him again, his face dipping down and his lips ghosting over mine. It's so gentle, barely there, but it sends shivers down my spine. My eyes slipping shut, trying to savour the moment, and then the kiss ends just as quickly as it began. It's like a spark in the dark, and then it's gone. 

The music fades away and the dance comes to an end, Joel and I stare into each other's eyes, knowing that our moment of peace is coming to an end. The thought of leaving his arms and facing the dangers that lie ahead fills me with a sense of dread, and I can tell from the look in his eyes that he feels the same way. We’re both silent, lost in our own thoughts, neither of us wanting to break the spell of the moment. I can feel the warmth of his hands on my back, the gentleness of his touch, and the way his fingers caress my skin sends shivers down my spine but as we reluctantly let go of each other, I feel a sense of loss, aching to be back in his arms once more. We both know that we're heading into danger, that there's a chance we may not make it back alive, and the thought of not feeling his touch again fills me with a sense of desperation. 

The door is opening and I can feel the flush of embarrassment spread across my face as I realise that we've been standing there, lost in each other's eyes, while Tess and Ellie have been waiting for us to grab our stuff and head out, the darkness outside ready to cloak us. It takes every fibre in my body to look away from Joel, breaking the connection, and feel a sense of emptiness settle in my chest. The sense of loss, of longing for the touch of Joel's arms around me settles deep in my bones. It's as if I've tasted something so wonderful and now I can't have it again, and the ache in my heart only grows stronger as we move further away. 

I know that we have to focus on the mission, that there are lives at stake, but in this moment, all I can think about is the loss of that touch, the loss of that connection. And as we face the dangers that lie ahead, I'll carry this ache with me, this longing for the comfort and safety of Joel’s arms.

----------------

TAGS: Tag List Form

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[digital-style666]

My music playlist for my The Amazing digital circus ocs

Personality- ♠️

Past and personal demons- 🌧

Songs they'd listen to - 🎼

• ⭐Darci

a Spotify playlist revolving around my oc Darci with songs that perfectly depict their past and current life, their personality, and their trauma

One of those songs being:

Satisfied by Marina and the diamonds 🌧

Watch me work from the Trolls Band together 🌧

"Glory and Gore" by Lorde🌧

"Human" by Christina Perri♠️

"Everybody's Fool" by Evanescence♠️

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day♠️

"The Show Must Go On" by Queen♠️

"Secrets" by OneRepublic🌧

"Say Something" by A Great Big World, Christina Aguilera🌧

"Not Afraid" by Eminem🌧

"Demons" by Imagine Dragons🌧

"Fighter" by Christina Aguilera🌧

"Holding On To You" by Twenty One Pilots🌧

"Welcome to the Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance🌧

"Heavy" by Linkin Park (feat. Kiiara)🌧

"Mad World" by Gary Jules🌧

"The Kids Aren't Alright" by The Offspring🌧

"Survivor" by Destiny's Child🌧

"Beneath Your Beautiful" by Labrinth (feat. Emeli Sandé)🌧

"Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perri🌧

"The Scientist" by Coldplay🌧

"Sound of Silence" by Simon & Garfunkel🌧

"I'm Not Okay (I Promise)" by My Chemical Romance🌧

"How to Save a Life" by The Fray🌧

"Feeling Good" by Nina Simone🌧🎼

"Moon River" by Frank Sinatra🎼

"Fly Me to the Moon" by Diana Krall🎼

"Smooth Operator" by Sade🎼

"La Vie En Rose" by Édith Piaf🎼

"The Girl from Ipanema" by Stan Getz & João Gilberto🎼

"What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong🎼

"At Last" by Etta James♠️🎼

"Unforgettable" by Nat King Cole♠️🎼

"My Funny Valentine" by Chet Baker♠️🎼

"Misty" by Sarah Vaughan🎼

"Fever" by Peggy Lee🎼

"Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers🎼

"Fly Me Away" by Goldfrapp🎼

"L-O-V-E" by Nat King Cole🎼

"Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers🎼

"Summertime" by Ella Fitzgerald🎼

"It Had to Be You" by Harry Connick Jr.🎼

"Come Away with Me" by Norah Jones🎼

"The Girl from Ipanema" by Stan Getz & Astrud Gilberto🎼

"Georgia on My Mind" by Ray Charles🎼

"At Last" by Etta James🎼

"Smooth Operator" by Sade🎼

"Dream a Little Dream of Me" by Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong🎼

"Cry Me a River" by Julie London🎼

"What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong🎼

"Moon River" by Frank Sinatra🎼

"Just the Way You Are" by Billy Joel🎼

"Can't Help Falling in Love" by by Hailey Reinhart (because ain't no way they're listening to Elvis Presley)🎼

"Blue Moon" by Billie Holiday🎼

"Sway" by Dean Martin🎼

"Over the Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole🎼

"Moonlight Serenade" by Glenn Miller🎼

"You Are the Sunshine of My Life" by Stevie Wonder🎼

"Beyond the Sea" by Bobby Darin🎼

"Stand by Me" by Ben E. King🎼

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole🎼

"Isn't She Lovely" by Stevie Wonder🎼

"The Way You Look Tonight" by Frank Sinatra🎼

"Copacobana" by Barry Manilow 🎼

__________________________________________

• 🐻 Pesto

psycho teddy♠️

my axe by Insane clown possi ♠️

Boogie man by insane clown possi♠️

"Killing Strangers" by Marilyn Manson♠️

"Bodies" by Drowning Pool♠️

"Down With the Sickness" by Disturbed♠️

"Break Stuff" by Limp Bizkit♠️

"The Way I Am" by Eminem♠️

"Dragula" by Rob Zombie♠️

"Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" by Drowning Pool♠️

"Disposable Teens" by Marilyn Manson♠️

"Psychosocial" by Slipknot♠️

"Die MF Die" by Dope♠️

"Freak on a Leash" by Korn♠️

"Chop Suey!" by System Of A Down♠️

"Blow Me Away" by Breaking Benjamin♠️

"You're Going Down" by Sick Puppies♠️

"Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace♠️

"Bleed It Out" by Linkin Park♠️

"Devour" by Shinedown♠️

"Numb" by Linkin Park♠️

"Bodies" by Smashing Pumpkins♠️

"No More Sorrow" by Linkin Park♠️

"Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who🌧

"The Night We Met" by Lord Huron🌧

"Hurt" by Johnny Cash🌧

"Snuff" by Slipknot🌧

"Welcome to My Life" by Simple Plan🌧

"Cats in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin🌧

"Mad World" by Gary Jules🌧

"Adam's Song" by Blink-182🌧

"How to Disappear Completely" by Radiohead🌧

"Concrete Angel" by Martina McBride🌧

" Drunk" by Living tombstone🌧

"Hurt" by Johnny Cash🌧

"Mad World" by Gary Jules🌧

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day🌧

"Unwell" by Matchbox Twenty🌧

"Breaking the Habit" by Linkin Park🌧

"Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2" by Pink Floyd🌧

"Numb" by Linkin Park🌧

"Sober" by Demi Lovato🌧

"The Kids Aren't Alright" by The Offspring🌧

"In the End" by Linkin Park🌧

___________________________________________

•🏎 Randy

"Highway to Hell" by AC/DC♠️

"Born to be Wild" by Steppenwolf♠️

"I'm Still Standing" by Elton John♠️

"Rebel Rebel" by David Bowie♠️

"Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey♠️

"Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman♠️

"We Will Rock You" by Queen♠️

"Livin' on the Edge" by Aerosmith♠️

"Baba O'Riley" by The Who♠️

"Drive" by Incubus♠️

"Runnin' Down a Dream" by Tom Petty♠️

"Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor♠️

"Life is a Highway" by Tom Cochrane♠️

"Walking on Sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves♠️

"Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake♠️

"The Show Must Go On" by Queen🌧

"I Want to Break Free" by Queen🌧

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day🌧

"Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds🌧

"Carry on Wayward Son🌧" by Kansas

"The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World🌧

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day🌧

"Under Pressure" by Queen & David Bowie🌧

"Loser" by Beck🌧

"We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel🌧

"Kryptonite" by 3 Doors Down🌧

"Stressed Out" by twenty one pilots🌧

"The Show Must Go On" by Queen🌧

"Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who🌧

"Everybody's Fool" by Evanescence🌧

"In My Mind" by Amanda Palmer🌧

"Human" by Christina Perri 🌧

"Burn It Down" by Linkin Park🌧

"Firestarter" by The Prodigy🌧

"Sound of Silence" by Simon & Garfunkel🌧

"Shut Up" by Simple Plan🌧

"Man" by Skepta🌧

"Born This Way" by Lady Gaga🌧

"Famous Last Words" by My Chemical Romance 🌧

"Happy Jam" by Piemations and Fries on the side🌧

"I /me/ myself" by Will Wood 🌧

"Girls" by Marina & the diamonds 🌧

__________________________________________

• 🍃Figaro

"Young, Wild & Free" by Snoop Dogg & Wiz Khalifa ft. Bruno Mars♠️

"The Lazy Song" by Bruno Mars♠️

"Stressed Out" by Twenty One Pilots♠️

"Don't Worry, Be Happy" by Bobby McFerrin♠️

"Smoke Two Joints" by Sublime♠️

"I Gotta Feeling" by The Black Eyed Peas♠️

"No Rain" by Blind Melonl♠️

"Bare Necessities" from "The Jungle Book" Soundtrack♠️

"One Love" by Bob Marley♠️

"Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana♠️

"Float On" by Modest Mouse♠️

"Hey Ya!" by OutKast♠️

"Budapest" by George Ezra♠️

"We Can't Stop" by Miley Cyrus♠️

"Semi-Charmed Life" by Third Eye Blind♠️

"Wagon Wheel" by Darius Rucker♠️

"Here Comes the Sun" by The Beatles♠️

"I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz♠️

"Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley♠️

"Mr. Blue Sky" by Electric Light Orchestra♠️

"All Star" by Smash Mouth♠️

"Walking on Sunshine" by Katrina & The Waves♠️

"Good Vibrations" by The Beach Boys♠️

"Walking in Memphis" by Marc Cohn♠️

"Brown Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison♠️

"Banana Pancakes" by Jack Johnson♠️

"I Want You Back" by Jackson 5♠️

"Knee Deep" by Zac Brown Band♠️

"Linger" by The Cranberries♠️

"Home" by Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, & Bebe Rexha♠️

"Underdog" by Alicia Keys♠️

"Welcome to the Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance♠️

"Survivor" by Destiny's Child♠️

"Human" by Rag'n'Bone Man♠️

"Stronger" by Kelly Clarksonl♠️

"Control" by Halsey🌧

"Anxiety" by Julia Michaels ft. Selena Gomez🌧

"Talking to Myself" by Linkin Park🌧

"Heavy" by Linkin Park ft. Kiiara🌧

"The Village" by Wrabel🌧

"Secrets" by Mary Lambert 🌧

"How to Save a Life" by The Fray🌧

"Drown" by Bring Me The Horizon🌧

"Serotonin" by Girl in Red 🌧

" Pass the dutchie" by Musical Youth♠️

Note:

I will update the playlist whenever I come across any songs that remind me of my ocs or If an artist turns out to be problematic. In the meantime the rest of the oc playlist and covers for said playlist will be worked on

[myillusions]

CHARACTER SHEET

Gilded Robin

Ophelia Robinette

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

Appearance

Ophelia “Robin” Robinette is five-foot, six inches in height, with lightly wavy ginger hair mixed with golden honey which sits at medium-length just beneath her shoulders. She often wears it either down, in a messy bun, a high ponytail or plaited.

Ophelia’s eye colour is green with brown flecks and long eyelashes. She adorns brown eyebrows and a light flutter of freckles, with soft, plump lips and smooth skin. She has a slim face with round cheeks and a defined jawline. She has two barely visible fangs due to genetics.

Ophelia flaunts with a fit, robust physique, which is curved in a slight hourglass figure. She possesses a tattoo of a lotus on her lower spine.

Whilst being in favor of her looks, Ophelia appears as more so a damsel then she’d prefer, where in reality, she is much adjacent to a lotus; beautiful, graceful and pure on the surface, but the roots are firmly planted in mud and water.

Personality

Ophelia Robinette; when first coming into contact with her, is commonly described as a compassionate and community-based yet apprehensive woman.

Though, like most, Ophelia is quite complex. She is rather sardonic and reticent, though isn’t afraid of a friendly chat. Most around Jackson would determine her as resolute.

She is sedulous and quick-witted in near all of her actions, the struggles of the apocalypse clearly weighing on her decision making. This doesn’t deter her from being sardonic, though, whilst also having her churlish moments.

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

“Pride; it will cost you everything and leave you with nothing.”

Priscilla Hanes

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

Appearance

Priscilla Hanes is five-foot, eight inches in height. She adorns curly, jet-black shoulder-length hair. She has stunning, piercing blue eyes with sharp features.

Priscilla almost constantly looks sleep-deprived and possesses a tattoo sleeve on her left arm.

Personality

Priscilla Hanes is an outgoing, assertive woman who can come off as rather churlish. She is extremely adventurous, which can cause her to often wind herself up in lamentable situations. Priscilla is exceedingly witty and not afraid to speak her mind.

After getting more accommodated with Priscilla, most find her to be extremely sympathetic and warm-hearted.

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

“Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth. Right?”

Elias Robinette

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

Appearance

Elias Robinette is six-foot, one inches in height with a scruffy, unkempt head of brunette hair which falls by his eyebrows. He has light green eyes and a honed jawline.

Personality

Elias Robinette is an earnest, yet vastly despairing man whom consistently makes ridiculing and satirical comments.

Many would describe Elias Robinette as a survivor.

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

“Hemingway said that courage was grace under pressure. He also shot himself point blank in the face.”

Joel Miller

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

“Maybe there’s nothing bad out there, but so far there’s always been something bad out there.”

Ellie Williams

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

“People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow… too soon?”

Tommy Miller

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

“Just because life stopped for you, doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”

Maria Miller

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

"Be careful who you put your faith in. The only people who can betray us, are the ones we trust."

Tess Servopoulos

❥ ∞ ✯ • ➳

"It's a miracle any of us are alive."

Note: Photos are not mine! I got them all from Pinterest.

Will be updated.

[something-tofightfor]

I just saw that you have your Joel master list updated to say there's a new fic coming tomorrow? what is it? SO EXCITED.

Hey anon!

You definitely DID see that. And yes, there is a new Joel piece coming out tomorrow ... but it's part 1 of 2.

I started writing the continuation of Waiting For This Sky To Fall - which is you, taking Joel up on his invite to come over alone for the first time.

And let's just say that when I got to a good stopping point and checked the word count, it was 11k... and nowhere near done. So I'm splitting it.

I have always said that I want to give Joel the life in Jackson that he should have had - and part of that is being thorough with him working through all the BULLSHIT that comes with what he went through. So part 1 is a lot of backstory and character development - but it's still intimate.

Part 2 ... is going to be what most of you are waiting for, and should only take a few more days to finish - which means you'll have the completed 2 parts within the next week at the latest.

SO:

Everything's Changing Now: Let It In - Cause I Want You So is coming tomorrow at 6:30 PM EST. And part 2, which is titled We Could Live Like Kings If We Take a Risk will be out soon after.

In the meantime, if you're looking for some REALLY EFFING GOOD Joel Miller, check out Survivor Blues by @the-blind-assassin-12- she just posted part 3 yesterday and it's... heating up. I cannot recommend it enough.

[unprofessional-bard]

Chapter 12 - The Development, Pt. I

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: TW for homophobia, homophobic guy gets kicked in the balls. mostly angst: tense situations, back story reveal (hints to disturbing cult activities/religious trauma??). smut: vulnerable/desperate sex, reader and joel being in love and soft w each other.

Summary: The reader and Joel unintentionally get more tangled up with Kiki and Ward –going on patrols, doing town duties with them etc.– which leaves the reader frustrated.

Word Count: 7.060

Author's Note: I feel like I proofread this 500 times but my apologies if it still sucks 😭

Enjoy!

"I think we earned a small break, don't you think so, Captain?" Kurt extended a beer bottle to you.

"I guess so, colonel," You offered a vague smile and reluctantly took the bottle from him.

"Oh, c'mon, cheer up (Y/N)!" Kurt put an arm around you and chuckled ironically. "It's the 4th of July..."

"Sure," You patted his back but appreciated his enthusiasm nevertheless. "It just doesn't sit right with me that all these other people in the QZ don't have the- the luxury we have."

"Oh, I know," Kurt let his arm go and nodded bitterly. "It ain't just, but there's not much we can do."

You nodded as well: "Well, be back in 5, gotta go piss."

Kurt laughed heartily and waved his hand at you as you walked away from the open area to wash your face, hoping to wash away the guilt as well. It was your first time in a different QZ– Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to be more specific and you weren't exactly having a good time. A big part of your company was wiped out, which had ultimately triggered your survivor's guilt. The situation was out of your control when hunters, bandits and a surprise horde of infected got involved; everyone acknowledged how there wasn't anything you could do, except for yourself. It had been 5 years into this apocalyptic mess, yet you still had trouble adjusting to it... but then again, no one ever really did.

When you reached the shared toilet areas, there were only three cabins. One was occupied, one was completely empty without the toilet itself and the other was simply too dirty.

You heard heavy breathing from the occupied cabin, and instinctively decided to knock on the door to make sure the person inside was alright: "Hey, is everything..."

The moment you knocked the second time on the door, it opened just a smidge to reveal two men kissing, which made you gasp loudly and step back while alerting them.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry–"

"Oh shit–!"

You went to close the door, but immediately decided to turn around in panic, thinking: Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I'm really sorry! I just wanted to use the toilet since the others are, well– Uh–"

"Fuck, what are we going to–" You heard one of them speak, panicked.

"Relax, it'll be fine," The other one reassured.

"Look, it's uh–" You tried again, slowly turning to walk out of there. "I wasn't here, we never saw each other, okay?"

"No, wait!" You felt a ghostly hand on your arm, but he didn't grab it, just tapped once to get your attention. "Please, you can't tell anyone!"

You raised your hands up mid air to do a stop gesture, trying to get him and his partner to calm down: "No, of course I won't!"

"Wait," The other man with blue eyes stepped out of the cabin. "You won't? You don't mind... us?"

"Mind you? It's none of my business to begin with," You assured both of them. "What happened here stays between us– hell, I wasn't even here as we speak."

"Thank you," He smiled and saw the way he clung onto his partner's –whom you noticed had hazel fleeing to green eyes– hand with his fingers. "Most people around here don't... appreciate us."

You nodded bitterly, a small, sad smile on your face: "I'm so sorry, I wish I could do something for the both of you–"

"What's going on here then?" A deep voice called from behind you, when you noticed a little too late how the man with green eyes' expression shifted to one of fear.

You turned around to meet a face you weren't familiar with: "Why do you wish to know?"

"Why do I wish t–" The guy gave you an incredulous look, interrupted himself and asked. "Identify yourselves."

"Corporal Robin Lazewski," Said the man with the blue eyes.

"Sergeant Cole Doxon." Green eyes followed.

"And you, missy?" The man stood before you at arms length with a sneer.

"Captain," You corrected him. "(Y/N) (L/N). Who might you be?"

The man's sneer disappeared when he realised your ranks were the same, but he still looked displeased: "Captain Phillip Moore. Now, I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?"

The question was more directed at Robin and Cole rather than you, and you knew why, so you stepped in: "Nothing that should worry you, Captain."

"Oh, but I know what's been going on. Had my eye on you two for awhile now enough to know exactly what type of people you are."

"These men are from my company, Captain," You intervened again, lying through your teeth without thinking about the consequences. "If you have a complaint, we can gladly take this up to Colonel Kurt Greenwood, as he is our superior."

The name made Phillip take a step back, clearly making him nervous: "Tsk, no thanks. Don't need to get more involved with your kind."

"If you wanna say something, mister, go right ahead," You growled and took a step forward, risking the possibility of a few days of detention without hesitation. The tension thickened, and thickened, and thickened then finally...

————

"Woah, wait, you just lied out of your ass to him?" Ellie suddenly interrupted you.

"Yeah," You sighed. "If he knew that they were actually from Pittsburgh I would've been... fucked."

"Shit," Ellie sighed. "Guy didn't even know his own soldiers... and then?"

"He said a few unkind words about them, and, well, I kicked him in the balls."

"Are you serious?" Ellie's eyes grew wider, beginnings of a laugh bubbling up in her chest.

"Hell yeah," You offered her your first smile the whole time you'd been lying in your bed together. She came to visit you for the evening, which was no doubt Joel's idea but it was nice of him of course, and ultimately decided to stay the night like you both did from time to time. Your husband, on the other hand, went to stay over at Tommy's to give you both some space.

"Dolly, you were both awesome and out of your mind! What if he caught you? Did they find out?" She asked, squirming where she laid.

"I got away with kicking him at that moment, got the boys out of there and went straight to Kurt." You put an arm under your pillow: "Told him we had to make a transfer, explained the reason. He got mad at me, sure, but he had some connections in the QZ. Later on the guy made a complaint about all of us, but all Kurt said was: Maybe you should worry more about the people suffering in the QZ rather than two people kissing. Maybe then, you can control these uprisings."

"Man," She giggled. "I wish I met Kurt– all of your team. You all were so fucking cool."

You gave her a crooked smile, the pains of your old wounds hurting as if they were new: "He was right, too." She gave you a curious look. "There are more important things people should worry themselves with rather than town gossip, like survival and keeping Jackson running."

Ellie averted her eyes at your words: "Yeah..."

"Look, I may not have the same fierceness I did when I was 25, but that's never going to stop me from kicking someone's balls if they disrespect you." She huffed a brief laugh at your words: "Jokes aside... You know, you can tell Joel, right?"

"Ugh, I don't wanna think about it," She groaned and turned to the right, face directed at the ceiling.

"Take your time. I'm not saying you should tell him, just letting you know that you can, if you want to."

"Sure, thanks..." She stared at the wall for awhile, the moonlight shining directly onto her beautiful features. After a while, she said: "I don't feel like he's being too honest with me, actually."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words: "How do you mean?"

She took her time with her reply: "He ever talked to you about what happened? Before we got here?"

"Not much."

"What about my... immunity?" Her eyes shifted to yours.

You felt like a piece of shit lying to her, making the burden on your shoulder get heavier. The bed felt like it could swallow you when you spoke nonchalantly: "Again, not much. Told me there were a dozen or so more immune people, that they ran some tests and–"

"Yeah, he took me out of there. Unconscious." She sighed and you felt like your uneasiness was showing, but actually you kept your composure. "Do you really believe that?"

This time you took a bit long to answer, walking over the minefield with careful steps: "I'm... I don't know, I'm not really buying it." She gave you a worried look: "But it isn't my business to interfere, either. I really don't know what to tell you."

Ellie just nodded and continued staring at the ceiling afterwards: "I just wish..."

"Yeah?"

"Nevermind."

You nodded, glad the conversation didn't go where you thought it would, relaxing into the mattress: "I heard Tommy brought you one of the comics you were dying to read."

"Yeah," She quietly took a deep breath.

"And? D'you like it?"

"I did actually," She seemed more enthusiastic than a moment ago, which made you relax even more. "But there was another cliffhanger! It wasn't the final volume!"

The next morning Joel stopped by briefly to get his stuff for patrol, kissed you goodbye while you were having breakfast with Ellie, then left. That's when she spoke up: "So? What are we doing today?"

"We?" You raised a brow.

"I got a day off, and you look miserable," She commented. "Not about to let that go to waste, so..."

"I was just planning on lying down for a bit."

"You've been lying down for ever, it's time you did something else!"

"Ellie I really don't have the energy for– for anything, right now." You sighed and helped her with the dishes.

"So... you also don't have the energy for the new game Jesse brought?" She side eyed you, offering a mischievous smile.

You hated feeling like this, not being able to do things with people you cared about because you simply couldn't. Everyone was understanding, of course, but you hated how this feeling had become a part of you overtime; way before you had reached Jackson, and before the death of your family. You even found comfort in it to a certain level, but if you could, you'd gladly get rid of it with a single snap of your fingers.

"I'd like nothing more honestly," You wiped your hands on a small towel on the counter and looked at her: "But we'll see, you know how I get."

If there was someone who helped you get back on your feet as quickly as Ellie and Joel, it was Maria – and Tommy.

But sometimes you really doubted if Maria truly was a maker of right decisions.

It was your first patrol with Ellie where you two went outside, very much like the patrols you took on, but it was still a bit new for her. She wanted to get involved with the patrols sooner than Joel liked: She's too young, it's too early for her, he'd say, but even though it's no age for her to be even seeing the stuff she saw, going through everything she went through, you were on Ellie's side on the matter. She was capable of handling patrols with you, or Joel and others; she was also more skilled than all the kids her age, but a part of you also wanted to keep her safe behind the walls of Jackson.

After a lot of reasoning with Joel, you had managed to convince him and were on your way to start the ski lodge route with Ellie. Maria had told you you'd be meeting with a couple of other people to do a sweep afterwards, but she was hesitant to tell you who. You knew something was afoot, for Maria never was a person to mince her words; it initially gave you an idea about who might be waiting for you, but at least you had Ellie to help calm your nerves. You hitched your horses at the entrance, then walked through the doors. Your jaw clenched and your posture visibly tensed when your theories were proven right and you saw who was inside.

Kiki and Ward.

You internally cringed when you made eye contact with Ward, who was... talking with Joel?

What the fuck is going on?

"'bout time!" Tommy appeared out of nowhere, startling you. "You're half an hour late, we were startin' to get worried."

"What's going on?" Ellie spoke instead of you.

"Well, we'll be heading back," He patted Ellie on the shoulder. "While the others'll do a sweep."

"But we just got here?" Ellie protested. "I thought Dolly and I–"

"Yeah, Tommy, what the fuck?" You whispered and stepped closer to him.

He huffed, it was his signature I'm just gonna put it out here so listen carefully stance: "Maria asked that you solve the issue between you and Ward."

"She didn't ask me shit, Tommy, just told me to get my ass over here. Without a heads up." You sighed and he gave you an apologetic shrug: "She's right, but is patrol really the right time for this?"

"Just shake hands and try to get along, you're partnered up with him."

Your eyes widened: "Tommy–"

"It'll be fine, (Y/N), don't worry." He said reassuringly. "Walt and Bruce went over to the back, you can fetch them and start. C'mon Ellie."

She squeezed your hand in an encouraging manner and followed Tommy out. You rubbed your face and ran a hand through your hair, then finally turned and walked over to the three: "Alright, I'll go get Walt and Bruce, then we can go."

"Sure," Joel offered a small smile and got up from where he was sitting with Kiki, but Ward remained seated with his arms crossed. You took it as an indication to wait for the others to leave so you two could finally talk.

"Well..." You said awkwardly.

"I'm sorry for punching you," He said, straight out, without dwelling on anything. "I get ahead of myself sometimes. I can't really control it when I get angry, I– I never knew how to. It was my only way to survive... and protect Kiki."

You blinked several times at how genuine he was, even his hard expression was softened to some point: "It's, uh– it's okay. Thank you, and sorry, for your nose I mean. It was a reflex."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," He nodded and got up, towering over you, then extended a hand over to you. "We're good?"

"Sure, 'course," You nodded and shook his hand. He pursed his lips and walked out, leaving you a little stunned. You immediately sighed in relief and made your way to the back room, where your memories of fucking with Joel resurfaced and made you smile a little.

"Alright, c'mon you guys, let's go–" You walked into the room and right then, you heard panicked shuffling with a gasp. When you understood what was going on, you immediately stepped back outside: "Oh, woah–."

Were they making out?

If you were honest, you saw it coming, but it still came as a shock. You debated on whether you should leave or stay, but when you heard the panicked voices from inside, you stood there, waiting to apologise as soon as they walked out. It was Walt who opened the door first.

"Dolly– Listen," He was calmer than he sounded back inside. "You... I mean..."

"Look, let me just say this: It's none of my business, and I won't tell anyone, so... It's okay. We can pretend this never happened."

He blinked, a bit dumbfounded: "You don't mind?"

"Walt, of course not. As I said, it's none of my business."

It was then, when Bruce walked out shyly: "You seriously won't go tell anyone?"

At that, you chuckled and looked away, your eyes watering at the memory of Robin and Cole you had told Ellie: "You guys are safe with me– in Jackson. I know some people aren't very open minded here, but just know that you have my support."

Walt suddenly hugged you tightly. You took a second, but immediately returned it with a gentler one: "It's okay."

"Thank you (Y/N)," Bruce smiled sincerely.

"It's the least anyone can do – show basic human decency," You said and smiled back after Walt pulled back. "Come on now, we're already late."

The three of you acted as if nothing happened, but the couple couldn't help the smiles spread on their faces.

"Alright, Doll," Joel began explaining once you stepped to his side to get on your horse. Tommy and Ellie were long gone: "Maria asked us to show 'em how we do our patrols..."

"But?" You already didn't like how Maria picked you two for them, so you scrunched your face up lightly.

"You'll be going with Ward, I'll be going with–"

"Kiki." The name left your mouth with clear discomfort. Joel huffed at your worrisome expression and rubbed your arm soothingly.

"I rightly don't know why we're even assigned with them," Joel kissed your temple gently. "But it'll be fine, sweetheart. C'mon, we have places to cover."

You gave his hand a light squeeze and tried not to look as troubled as you felt inside when you both rode up to the couples, then went separate ways. You were quite surprised Ward actually let Kiki go with someone else– with Joel, but you kept it to yourself.

"So, I presume Tommy or Maria, or someone must've filled you in on how patrol works?" You began once your horses had slowed down the long path.

"Sort of, yeah. Joel and Tommy explained how logbooks work."

"Well, I'll start of with three things you must stick to, then– always. One: Stealth is key to everything. Keep quiet and don't draw any attention to yourself. Two: Your partner is technically your life support. You don't leave them behind, but back them up when they get into trouble and plan routes or approach tactics together. Three: If you come across anything you can't handle– anything at all, you bring your ass back to town."

"Yes ma'am," It was the first time you saw him offer the smallest smile, which softened his hardened features.

For awhile, you rode quietly, until he asked: "Say... Where you from?"

You raised a brow at his question: "Well, would you believe me if I said I don't remember?"

"How is that possible?" He tsked.

"I– I don't know," You chuckled with a hint of bitterness. "I only remember moving to San Francisco with my parents when I was... Around two?"

"Oh so you're a Californian..."

"Well, I suppose. What–" You saw the weird expression on his face: "Where are you from?"

"Idaho."

"Oh, and you're a potato farmer!"

You both shared a chuckle when he continued: "I wish that was the case. Would've traded everything to have been a potato farmer my whole life than..."

"Than what?"

"The shit I went through ever since the world fell apart."

You shrugged: "Don't we all?"

"I don't know about you, but none of those people in there –except for Kiki– would've preferred living as farmers..."

"What are you talking about?"

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, broke eye contact and his whole stance changed. It took him a few silent moments, but he spoke eventually: "When the infection took over, a small church in our town offered food and protection to everyone there. They barricaded the whole town in a short time, a lot of people died in the process, but we actually made a safe environment– not as strong and well protected like here, though. The infected weren't occupying that part of the city too much, either, so we just made decent living... But in time, the priest of the church started controlling the community. In months everyone was on their knees praying– beggin' for forgiveness for their sins so that they survive this shit..."

"Oh..." You flinched, feeling sorry for him, your heartbeat picking up in worry. You were also unintentionally expecting him to get this story somewhere, pull out a gun and shoot you, or stab you with his knife– you were expecting an Axel case. They might have come all this way just to avenge a loved one who you might have killed, and even though your mind screamed that the scenario had no way of making sense, you still kept your hand on your pistol which was strapped to the side of your thigh that he couldn't see.

"It was fucked up, and I was young, I had no choice but to follow my parents... They died years later and that was when I met Kiki. She was so pretty, and– and kind to me. I really liked her, we were around... 18 and 20 at the time, I think. She helped me mourn my parents, we made really good company. Soon I realised I was falling in love with her."

Hearing these words from him freaked you out a little, if you were honest, because they didn't look very in love; but you were also curious about what the hell had happened to them.

"A year or so later we, uh– Understand this, we had to keep it a secret. If the priest didn't see a couple fit, they'd get punished, but if he did, he'd force them to... Have children, to– y'know."

You couldn't hide the disgust on your face, but he was too focused on somewhere else to notice it, the sorrow and trauma on his face making you feel bad for him.

"We didn't know if we were more scared of the punishment, or Kiki getting pregnant– neither of us wanted a child, we were so young..."

For a moment he looked guilty for saying that, but when you reassured him that you understood, he still looked guilty and regretful: "Naturally."

"Not too long later people started picking up on what type of relationship we had. One time one of the priest's..." A suden wave of rage washed over him– He spat out the next word: "Whores, caught us hugging each other, then we were brought before the priest. He didn't see us fit because we didn't take anyone's permission to get together."

Your brows also drew closer in anger as you listened: "I'm really sorry you two had to go through that."

"It doesn't matter, it was long ago; we escaped, and now we're here," Ward suddenly fixed his posture, looking thoughtful and upset at the same time. The conversation had come to an end.

"Listen, if you ever wanna talk to someone," You spoke hesitantly. "Our head doc Katherine holds weekly, uh, conversations," You couldn't bring yourself to say therapy, even though he'd find out sooner or later.

"I don't– I don't wanna talk about it," He huffed angrily and side eyed you where he sat.

"You seem like you need to, is all I'm saying," You ran a hand through your hair, wiping some sweat off your forehead in the meanwhile. "It's okay to do that, y'know."

"I don't need it!" He growled and turned his head towards you in a harsh motion. "I don't need your– stupid conversations–"

"Hey," You pulled on the reins in your hand, hard, and came to a stop. He mirrored your movements when you growled back: "Those stupid conversations actually help people. They saved god knows how many townsfolk, and participating in them doesn't make you less of a man."

"That's not what this is about."

Sure you wanted to counter, the look of offense in his face telling you everything you had to know, but kept your tongue: "I just suggested you could go, nobody's forcing you to! Keep it in the corner of your mind if you want, I don't care what you do."

With that you started riding again, missing the look of regret and worry on his face. When he reached your side a few moments later, he spoke quietly, softer: "You're right, I'm sorry."

You nodded: "Try not to take things personally, we're not your enemies. We're just trying to help."

The rest of the ride was quiet, but the good outcome of both you and Joel's pairing with the couple unfortunately had a bad outcome for you. Maria asked you and Joel to be patient and stick to them for a month or so– at least until they start to really fit in. You had to accept, thinking of how when you first came here Walt had switched his partner's because he was the first person one to get along with you.

The problem was, you weren't exactly getting along with them, or Kiki more precisely.

You didn't know if it was because of your pride or your reluctance to make a scene about it, but you kept quiet about your suspicions about how Kiki undeniably took a liking to Joel. When you subtly asked a question about how Kiki behaved on patrol, he nonchalantly explained how she picked up pretty quickly and appeared to be a much more normal person; but you left out the bit that whenever you or her husband appeared, she'd hiss like a cat.

Maybe you were simply jealous that a pretty woman like Kiki was hitting on Joel, even though you never doubted his intentions for a second. He seemed very oblivious to her and your hints at what you wanted to say, and that was pretty much your only way of finding comfort.

Ward, on the other hand, always looked at the brink of a breakdown when it got too quiet between you two. Joel also asked about how he was whenever you discussed the pair, and when you mentioned their background and how troubled he looked ever since, he raised a brow. He also mentioned how Kiki started wearing t-shirts throughout the week –sleeveless clothing– and he thought it had to do with some sort of survival condition related trauma, while you had other theories.

Theories that you, once more, kept to yourself.

Because there were always two ends on situations like this: Your theories were correct – she was right all along! or, you thought too much of it – you're so dramatic!

It was a little frustrating, not being able to tell these to any memebers of your family, except for Ellie, who came to understand– probably better than Joel or the others would.

"Yikes, I'm sorry, Dolly," She looked troubled at your worrisome expression when you finally broke and told her about your suspicions.

"Morton's fucking fork," You sighed and ran a hand through your hair nervously. "I honestly don't know what to do, it's too early to say anything but at the same time I feel like it'll be too late if I keep it to myself."

"Well, no matter what happens," She rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. "I'll be by your side. Always."

The words caught you off guard, the frustration of bottled up feelings and the subconscious weight of keeping the truth about what happened with the Fireflies from Ellie finally shattering and setting a few drops of tears free.

"Thank you– Oh, Ellie," She hugged you where she stood while you remained seated on your chair in the kitchen. "What would I do without you?"

"I know, I'm the light of your life," She joked, which made you chuckle briefly.

"Look, I also want you to know that–" You pulled back and took her hands in yours, then looked her straight in the eyes: "That I'd do anything for you. Whatever happens, I'll be on your side too, even if I can't intervene."

An emotional scene between a girl who found her mother figure, and a broken soldier longing for a deeper sense of tranquility eventually finding it in a girl– something she thought she'd never find.

"Christ, Joel," You immediately got up from where you were sitting in the living room and ran up to your husband as soon as you saw his dirty, tired state. It was god knows what in the morning but you couldn't sleep, thoughts of Kiki and Joel keeping you up for the second time ever since your mutual patrols started three and a half weeks ago.

"What're you still doin' up?" You carefully looked him up and down with worried eyes and ignored his exhausted sigh. You quickly but carefully hugged him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

"Are you hurt?" You asked quietly after he immediately put his arm around your waist.

"Nope, just sore," He closed his eyes. "And a little dirty. Why aren't you asleep?"

You pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes, shrugging: "Couldn't sleep. And good thing I didn't."

"Dolly..."

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." You tugged on his large hand and led him up to your bathroom. After you arranged the tub to fill, you helped undress him, his pale face and tired eyes made you put extra effort to be as delicate as possible.

"You wanna talk about it?" You said after dropping his t-shirt into the laundry basket, while he took off his pants beside the door.

"There ain't much to talk about. We just..." You could feel your heart beat in your ears as you took his pants from him and repeated your motion, but froze in your place when he spoke again: "She saved me."

Your brows shot up quickly and the ache of keeping them crossed in a worried expression for so long immediately made its presence known: "My flashlight gave out, was tryin' to shake it back to life when a stalker grabbed me."

Joel scratched the back of his neck and lowered his head while you just stared and moved towards him slowly, his voice quiet: "I felt its– Its teeth on my neck right before Kiki jumped on it."

"Joel..." You sighed the moment you stopped walking, whispered, gulped and realised how bad your throat ached. He raised his head and gave you an utterly wrecking look, which immediately triggered you to walk over to him and hug him. His arms quickly shot up and wrapped themselves around your back. He buried his face into your neck this time and your hands ran through his hair, caressing the back of his neck soothingly. The way his arms embraced you was tight, but not enough to crush you– just enough to remind you where you belonged.

Home. That's what you felt like.

For the first time in many, many years, you finally found home again.

That exact feeling that made your eyes blurry with tears had struck first after fifteen years into the apocalypse, and it was the night after a particularly tough mission to handle some hunters around the area. The team had almost lost Kurt and Robin, the fear had been very overwhelming. The intensity of it all was nerve-wracking for everyone, so when Robin was back with Cole, they broke down crying in each other's arms. You couldn't bare to see them like that, so you joined with quiet whimpers and hugged them where they sat on the ground. Slowly, the rest of the group had joined, and when finally Kurt put his arms around you and them, everyone calmed down. That was home.

Family.

You inhaled his scent with tears in your eyes and a barbed wire around your throat, then hugged him tighter; the realisation of what might have happened had Kiki not been there washing over you like a tidal wave. All these months of doubting her– maybe you misunderstood her? Were you too cruel to Kiki in your mind? You sure as hell owed her now, you were more than grateful for what she did.

A sharp intake of breath from Joel and the warm wetness you felt on your neck confirmed that he was crying, so you turned your head a little to kiss his neck softly. It was rare that Joel cried, let alone open up like this, so you let him cry on your shoulder for as log as he needed. He didn't make a sound other than his occasional sniffs and sighs.

"I need you (Y/N)," He murmured after calming down a few minutes later, slowly shifting his arms downwards and kissing you deeply, pulling you flush against him. You kissed back, sighing into his mouth and slithering your hands down his back to the waistband of his underwear. You devoured each other at the doorway while the tub was still filling, the chilly yet still warm July night creating a thin layer of sweat between your bodies. He softly pushed you up against the doorframe, and his movements became more rushed the more your tongues danced against each other.

"Joel, baby wait," You pulled back and he stopped immediately. "The bath..."

You kissed a tear that was hanging on the edge of his cheek and reluctantly slipped away from his hold to turn the faucet off, and before you could turn back around, you felt his hands slowly sneak their way under your shirt and smiled softly at the feel. You turned completely, while he carefully walked you over to the counter and pushed you against the edge between the two sinks. He started peppering urgent kisses on your neck, making you sigh a quiet moan as your eyes closed, his hands roaming your body and eventually taking off the sleeveless undershirt off of you.

"What about the– the bath?" You barely managed to ask when he softly bit and kissed on the skin of your breasts, then moved down to tug your shorts down your legs.

"Later," He groaned when he saw the sight before him and immediately went to suck a few marks around your breasts, gently biting your nipples the way you liked it. You moaned and wrapped a leg around his waist so you could have his erection pressing directly against your pussy.

He lifted you up slightly and sat you on the cold counter, making you sigh as he settled between your legs, pulling his underwear off only for his erection to spring against your inner thigh. He was getting harder by the second, but before he lined himself up, he made sure you were taken care of to begin with. While massaging your inner thighs, he carefully bit and sucked on your neck, rubbing the tip of his cock between your slick folds in the meantime. You moaned quietly at his ministrations, his hands feeling wonderful around your legs.

After a while, you reached for his length and lined him up, allowing him to push in. You let out a soft moan by his ear and he did the same when he dived into your depths, then wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. He growled, grabbed at your hips and thighs and started off with a slow but somehow rushed pace.

What you liked about a slower pace, first and foremost, was how you could feel everything Joel had to offer and how much more relaxed and focused he was. You liked it when he took his time, making sure you felt every inch and vein of his length– You also liked the tension building up more this way. With the patrols and chores taking up most of your constantly changing schedules, sex had started to become a bit of luxury again, too.

Your eyes opened slowly when he called your name desperately– moaned it. You slowly pulled back from your hug and looked him in the eyes, then kissed him deeply, his rhythm stable but the snap of his hips started to become harsher. His grip on your hips were equally desperate and bruising, but you liked it; it was also your own way of assuring yourself that Joel was still here, with you.

His pace picked up the more your tongues swayed together, then his hand went to the hair on your scalp and massaged the skin there, making you throw your head back and clench down on him with a mewl. Groaning, he kissed and bit all over your neck again, the skin slapping against skin making both of you near the edge.

He suddenly pulled out and away, gently helped you off the counter and turned you around. In one motion, he buried himself deep inside you again and moaned. You arched your back and he pulled your hair into a ponytail, then placed solid, sloppy kisses on your shoulders as he fucked you from behind.

"Shit– Joel," You gasped when he grabbed at your breasts, arms crossed and slammed into you particularly hard. He was getting closer with each passing minute.

"(Y/N)..." He groaned and pressed you down against the counter, trapping you between the cold surface and his hairy, broad chest while sneaking a hand down to your clit. He slammed into you three more times, which made you moan brief but loud ahs and ohs each time; your hands clawing against his hips and arms, leaving your own marks, throwing him over the edge when he thought about the pleasure he felt when your nails digged into his skin.

You both came with loud moans and held onto each other tightly, Joel pulling out the last second even though he really, really wanted to come inside you at that moment: He would never do it without your permission and talking about it first, but the topic was never brought up by either of you.

Panting while coming down your high, you were as disappointed as Joel was when he didn't fill you up with his thick cock– you were also as cautious as your husband about this, and maybe it was finally time to discuss it.

After recollecting yourselves, you both moved into the lukewarm water in comfortable silence, Joel laying against you between your legs and holding onto your hands which you had wrapped around his chest in a hug, resting his head against your own.

Some time later, when you felt yourself dozing off, Joel hummed quietly: "If you're gonna sleep let's move to bed."

"How did you..."

"Your heartbeat got real slow, figured you were dozin' off," He slowly got up with a phantom smile on his lips and looked into your sleepy eyes. This small gesture made you smile back, and after he took your hand in his and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles, you got cleaned and out of the bath. There was much to be said, but sleep overcame you both as soon as you laid on the soft, inviting mattress.

The next morning, Joel had some business in town with Tommy while it was your day off, so you both had the opportunity to talk during breakfast. After some discussion and honesty about how you felt towards Kiki, Joel figured there'd be nothing a good dinner wouldn't fix. You had to agree because of your self-doubt, maybe this dinner would help you understand Kiki's intentions better, and it would also be your way of thanking her for saving Joel.

"I have to tell you somethin', but promise me–" Joel chewed on his scrambled eggs after your reluctant agreement to the dinner. "–You won't get mad?"

You rolled your eyes and offered a small smirk after finishing your bite: "When do I ever get mad at you?"

"Oh?" He raised a brow. "Well, I was startin' to think you were jealous of Kiki, is all."

Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp: "I am no such thing! Joel Miller–"

"Oh boy," He took a sip off his coffee, having made his point.

You took a deep breath, rolled your eyes while they were closed and grabbed your own cup: "Look, I'm not jealous, I just..."

"Just what?"

You chewed on your lower lip while staring two holes into the cup in your hands, took your time to think: "I'm just worried."

"What's got you worried, sweetpea?" His expression immediately softened as he leaned forward, the pet name easing the tension in your heart a little.

"They're– really odd, okay?" You spoke quietly, occasionally meeting his eyes. "Doesn't it bother you just how different they act when they're not around each other?"

"Where're you gettin' with this?"

"I just don't want another Axel case." The room fell to a deafening silence when you said his name, but you continued when he didn't say anything: "Look, I simply can't help but think they're trying to get close to us on purpose."

"Oh darlin'," His eyes widened slightly as he got off his chair and stood beside you in a quick motion, putting his warm hands on your bare shoulders. "I understand what's got you all worried, but I'm sure this is all because of Maria puttin' us together for patrol. Don't worry your pretty little head with all o' that." He pressed you against his body in a hug, gently massaging your shoulders as he did: "Now, I gotta get goin', but when I come back I'll do somethin' to ease all that stress built up in these strong muscles of yours, huh?" He softly digged his fingers into your shoulder blades, making you sigh as you realised they were indeed very stiff. He offered a soft smile: "Agreed?"

"Agreed." You forced a smile in return, trying not to worry like he said. It was Joel, after all; if he said you had nothing to worry about, then you probably didn't...

... But that didn't mean you were going to shut out your gut feelings altogether. It was your instincts that always saved your ass when you were unsure about situations like this, or when you got in trouble with people in general. You could always beat yourself up for overthinking too much and being so doubtful of them, but for now, you were going to keep your guard up at all times and keep them at arm's length.

————

tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl @joelsgeetar @sherry-212 @peachymelon69

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Survivor Blues

DEAD WOOD: JOEL'S POV

A/N: After far too long, this one is back in action! I have missed writing this story so darn much and it feels great to be back with these characters. This interlude has been living in my wip folder for a damn year, and I am really exciting to finally be sharing it. It takes place immediately following the events of Part Five, and it marks the first time that we get to see things through Joel's eyes in this universe. (It also alludes to some things that I haven't expanded on within this story yet, but that I am so SO excited to.)

Series Masterlist

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: language, mention of character death, loss, grief, trauma, brief description of injury, Ellie is a snarky teenager, PLOT SPOILERS FOR TLOU, feel free to message me if you have questions (it's actually a lot more hopeful than the title makes it sound)

Summary: Home from the supply run, Joel contemplates how far he's come since arriving in Jackson... and hopes that it will be the same for you. Tommy and Ellie - of course - have thoughts and opinions on things, too.

By the time Joel got home after a quick stop at the clinic, it was past seven, the house - and Ellie’s garage - both standing dark and empty against the beginnings of night. 

She must be out with friends. Good. 

It had taken a few years, but he was finally in a place where her absence didn’t immediately put him on edge. When they first settled into the house on Rancher Street, Joel would insist that Ellie stay at Tommy and Maria’s anytime he was gone overnight. Even the walls and the close knit community couldn’t fully satisfy that need to know that she was safe then. But now a note stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet telling him where she’d gone was more than sufficient. 

Which was exactly what he found when he entered the kitchen. Plucking the piece of paper from the fridge door and leaning against the counter, he read the girl’s hastily scrawled words. 

Joel, 

Not sure when you’re getting back but I might not be here when you do. Staying with some friends tonight and tomorrow. I’ll be home on Tuesday. Movie night - don’t forget!

-Ellie 

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. Like I’d ever forget movie night, kiddo. 

Getting that back - that time with her where they could just be a family, laughing together and watching some movie that was made fifteen years before she was born, that time that both of them desperately craved where they could put down all the things they carried and all the things they’d gone through even if only for 120 minutes at a time - that was a gift he would never take for granted. Her eventual forgiveness and understanding, once he’d finally explained his reasoning for the choices he made, was everything to Joel. And it was still fresh. The two of them were still awkwardly trying to find their way back to the kind of relationship they had before the lie came to light. But it was a chance that Joel never imagined he’d get, and it wasn’t one he would ever squander. 

He raised his hand to stick Ellie’s note back on the refrigerator door for now, but paused before using the same faded orange Longhorns magnet that she had used to secure it. Instead, he dug into his back pocket and pulled out a new one. Turning it over in his palm, Joel glanced down at the yellow letters spelling out Wyoming and remembered the look on your face when he handed you one identical to it that morning. 

It wasn’t really a smile, more like the framework of one, a hint of what it would look like fully fleshed out. It was different from the ones he’d seen you wear while working in the bakery or waving to someone on the street. Those were pleasantries that you were refamiliarizing yourself with. This one touched your eyes, softening them for a few seconds. It made Joel wonder what he unearthed with that small gesture - what part of your former life he’d been able to reach and awaken, at least partially. He didn’t bother with wondering what it meant that he’d taken an identical magnet for himself. 

With a sigh, he used the gas station souvenir to tack up Ellie’s note where he’d found it. Keeping his injured arm down at his side, he reached to open the cupboard next to the fridge and pulled down a glass and the bottle he kept there. He let out a grunt as he twisted the cap off, needing to use both hands to do so and being punished for the miniscule movement with a throb of discomfort through his bicep. Shit, that hurts. 

Though your work had held up just fine all the way back to Jackson, the wound had still garnered a hiss and a wince from the nurse on duty at the clinic. Using a cloth and clear grain alcohol, she’d carefully cleaned between and around the stitches, telling him that he was lucky he had someone with him who knew what they were doing, because the cut was deep and without closing it properly, he would have lost a lot more blood than he did. Slathering the area with an antiseptic cream, she re-wrapped his arm and sent him on his way, recommending that he not get the stitches wet for a good two days. 

Gonna have to stick my arm outta the shower I guess. First thing’s first, though. 

But before he could finish making himself a drink, he was interrupted by the call of his name. “Joel?” Tommy’s voice joined the stomp of his boots as he climbed the porch stairs and let himself through the front door. “Hey, Joel? Where-” 

I shoulda known he’d be over. 

Holly, the nurse at the clinic, was close friends with Maria. There was no way that she didn’t radio over to let Maria know that she’d just taken care of her brother-in-law. And that meant that Tommy knew, too. 

“Kitchen,” Joel answered, cutting his brother’s question short and reaching into the cupboard for a second glass. Setting it on the counter, he opened the freezer and scooped a few ice cubes into his palm before dividing them between the two tumblers. They clinked against the cut glass but fell silent as Joel poured a few fingers of whiskey in each, turning around in time to see Tommy appear in the doorway. “Hey, little brother.”

Tommy’s eyes were alert as he gave Joel the once over, his heightened focus settling on the bandage on his arm. “Shit, you alright? Holly said-” 

“M’fine, Tommy.” He picked up one of the glasses and handed it over, the younger man accepting it with visible relief. “Just a cut. Fell into some broken glass.”

Tommy raised one eyebrow. “You fell, huh?” 

Joel rolled his eyes with a gruff groan. “Couple’a infected caught us by surprise at the eye doctor. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle.” He leaned back against the counter and lifted his glass to his lips, taking a swig.

“Jesus.” Tommy took a drink, too, bending forward to rest his elbows on the island in the center of the kitchen. He set his glass down but kept his fingers around it, forehead furrowing as he spoke your name in the form of a question. “She’s alright, too? Holly didn’t say anything about-” 

Joel shook his head. “She’s fine, Tommy. Didn’t even have to stop at the clinic, so Holly didn’t see her.” He took another small drink, letting the rich amber liquid coat his tongue before swallowing. “She went straight back to her place from the stables.”

“Good.” Tommy nodded and blew out a breath, the last of the worry leaving his expression. “That’s good.” He cleared his throat and swirled the contents of his glass, watching the ice slide around the sides. “And uh… she did alright?” His eyes came back up then. “I mean, dealin’ with the infected and all?”  

Joel recalled the way you snapped immediately into action, shifting seamlessly from defense to attack, muscle memory taking over and guiding your blade exactly where it needed to go without hesitation. 

Alright’s an understatement. 

You’d had a moment of panic in the aftermath, but though Joel was certain that was what Tommy was asking about with the addition of “and all”, he decided not to consider it in his response. Your explanation was solid. No harm had been done, and he didn’t think it warranted mentioning. Nor did the fact that he had only been knocked through the glass display case because he’d glanced in your direction first to make sure you didn’t need help. 

We’re both fine. No point in worryin’ him over nothin’. She’s no more of a liability on a run than I am. She just… she needs time. Like we all did. 

“Yeah,” he answered, brows pinched together as he took another drink. He shrugged his bandaged arm out in front of him. “She even patched me up once we were in the clear.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Well, shit.” The tiniest twitch of his mustache gave away a hidden smirk, and he used the hand holding his glass to point at Joel. “You mean you actually let someone take care of you?” 

Joel rolled his eyes again. “Shut it, Tommy.” 

That got a laugh out of him, the younger man setting his glass on the island to lift both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just messin’ with you, big brother.” He smiled, a smaller chuckle slipping through it as his hands dropped to the counter. “Really, though.” He nodded. “I’m glad you’re both okay.” 

“Yeah.” Your near-smile flashed in Joel’s memory again as his eyes shifted to the magnet on the refrigerator. “Me too.” The kitchen fell silent for a handful of seconds, both men finishing their drinks before Joel spoke again. “Hey, do… do you remember that time you gave me a hand takin’ down the old oak tree in the yard?” 

Tommy blinked, clearly surprised by the question, but didn’t ask why Joel had brought it up. Instead, he tilted his head, brow furrowed as he sorted through his memories. The moment he dug the right one from its hiding spot, his expression changed. The creases in his forehead smoothed out and gave way to curved lines around his mouth as he broke into a smile. 

“Yeah.” He let out a huff of laughter, hanging his head and letting it shake from side to side before lifting it again. When he did he was still smiling, though there was a bittersweet shadow behind it. I know. You miss her too. “I remember us catchin’ hell for it.” 

We sure did. Joel tipped the bottle to fill both glasses with a half measure, then screwed the cap back on and put the bottle back in the cabinet it came from. 

The tree in question had been Sarah’s favorite. A swing hung from one of its branches, and Joel had tacked scraps of wood into the trunk that she used as footholds to scamper up so she could sit in the Y-shaped split in the center. And though she was only seven at the time, she had put up quite a fight when it came to taking it down. Joel could still picture the determined scowl on her face as she sat against the trunk. She had her scrawny arms crossed over her chest as she informed her father and her uncle that she wouldn’t let them kill her tree. What she didn’t know was that the tree was diseased, and that if left alone, not only would it become a safety hazard, but it ran the risk of infecting other nearby trees. 

He matched Tommy’s smile. “That girl all but tied herself to that damn trunk.” Joel always had the suspicion that if she had the time and an accomplice to help her with the knots, she would have. “She could be persistent, huh?” 

Tommy hummed. “Wonder where she got that from. What is it they say about apples again?” He laughed, but then curiosity got the better of him. “What…” He coughed to clear his throat. “What made you think’a that?” 

I’m gettin’ to it. “You remember how I had to prove to her that the tree was sick? Took my pocket knife and scratched the bark so she could see it was already dyin’ underneath?” She had gasped when the scratch test revealed a grayish, ashy underlayer, her eyes going wide and her bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill as her outrage instantly turned to fear for the other trees in the yard. “I had to scrape ‘em all, show her the rest of ‘em were still green and alive, even though they all looked the same on the outside.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed and he swallowed. “Yeah… Where you goin’ with this, Joel?” 

“I been thinkin’ about how it’s like that for people, too. It was like that for me. It was like that for me for a long time, Tommy.” Tilting the glass in his hand, he watched the amber liquid collect in the corner of it, shining gold through the cut crystal where the overhead light struck. “Scratch test came up gray for years. Thought I’d never really feel anything again… Thought I was done.” 

Straightening the glass, he let its contents slosh back to cover the bottom before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. Honey and malt slid over his tongue, a subtle layer of smoke and spice following as he swallowed. Back in Boston, drinking wasn’t something he did for enjoyment or relaxation. It wasn’t for savoring or even tasting, really. Then he drank to forget. To sleep. To turn it all off. Here in Jackson though, he could share a drink with his brother and remember. 

Remember what life tasted and looked and felt like. Remember his daughter. Remember who he was beneath all the dead wood around his heart.  

“Yeah.” Tommy’s eyes were on his own glass, a frown pulling at his mouth and etching creases between his eyebrows again. “I know.” He cleared his throat and took a long swig, finishing his drink with a wince that cracked into a fool’s gold grin - one that Joel knew was covering feelings of guilt and empathy and other things Tommy still felt compelled to atone for even though Joel had tried his best to lay those things to rest in the years since their reunion. We were no good to each other like that, little brother. We would have just broken each other. I don’t blame you for leavin’. Not anymore. Tommy reached over, grin still stretched across his face but growing more genuine as he clapped Joel on the shoulder of his good arm. “But you ain’t done, you old fucker. Not yet.” 

That was thanks almost entirely to Ellie and they both knew it. The girl was determined, borderline relentless, same as Sarah had been with the tree. She had been the one to keep scratching, keep digging, keep checking for the hint of green under all that twisted, lifeless gray. And when she found it, all the things that he thought had disappeared started coming out of their dormancy.

Things like jokes and laughter. Memories. The capacity to care deeply for others again. Things like movie nights. The things that made surviving the worst worthwhile. 

It was also thanks in part to Jackson - and to Tommy and Maria for welcoming him and Ellie into their lives. Some days it terrified him, allowing himself to have so much to lose again. There were still times he worried that he had peeled back too many of those hardened layers. That he’d let his guard down too much, exposed his heart to happiness for too long and that it would all be lost to blight. But even on those days he knew what Tommy had just said to be true - that he wasn’t done yet. 

And neither is she.��

Joel spoke your name then, nodding solemnly. “I think it’s been like that for her for a long time, too.” 

Tommy sighed. “Yeah.” He finished his drink and walked over to set the empty glass in the sink. “I got that impression, too.” Turning around, he tilted his head to one side. “You said she was alright on the trip though. Somethin’ happen?” 

Joel took a breath in through his nose, letting it back out slowly. “Just…” He tapped his pointer finger absently against the glass he still held. “I think I saw that  in her. The green underneath. I think… bein’ here is… it’s helpin’ her.” Even if she’s got a long way to go. “It’s… she’s still in there.”  

You were. And Joel realized, for the first time since meeting Tess all those years ago in Boston, that he wanted to know that person - the person who showed him the hint of a genuine smile, the person who carefully and gently patched him up, the person who shared a coveted instant coffee packet with him to pass the time and stay warm on a chilly night. And that scares the hell outta me.  

“Well that’s-” Tommy’s smile had nothing but warmth behind it that time. “That’s real good to hear.” He stepped away from the counter and towards the kitchen door then, bringing his hands together. “Well, I’ll get outta here so you can get yourself cleaned up and all. Just had to make sure you were good after we heard from Holly.” 

Joel nodded, following him out into the living room. “Yeah. How’d you put it? Thanks for still givin’ a shit about me?” He heard his brother snort out a laugh before turning around to face him again. 

“Yeah, exactly.” He paused then, the joking smile falling away to reveal something more serious yet still full of relief and warmth. When he spoke again his words were quiet, but they made a big impact. “It’s real good to hear you talk about Sarah again, too.” 

With that, he left, and Joel was left to respond to the empty room. “Yeah. It is.” 

–  –  – 

Twenty minutes later he was drying off from the shower when he heard the sound of the back door opening, followed by the call of his name. 

“Joel? You home?” Ellie’s voice was muffled by the closed door and the towel that he was dragging over his hair. 

Ellie? Thought she was stayin’ out tonight? 

He called back. “Yeah. Gimme five minutes, I’ll be right down.”  

Moving from the bathroom into his bedroom, Joel pulled clean clothes and underwear from his dresser - a pair of thick navy blue sweatpants along with a dark gray t- shirt and a pair of wool socks. Easing the shirt carefully over his wrapped bicep, he sighed, knowing that as soon as Ellie saw it she would react. She hated seeing him injured, as anyone would hate to see someone they cared about get hurt. But Joel knew that in her case, it was more than that. In her case, it reminded her of those dark days in Colorado, when she did all she could to keep him alive and still wasn’t sure he would make it through the night. 

It won’t always be like that, though. ‘Least I hope not. For her sake. 

The  thought of covering it up with a loose fitting flannel or long sleeved shirt didn’t even occur to him, though. After coming clean about everything that happened in Salt Lake City with the Fireflies and the doctor they were working with, Joel made a solemn vow to himself that he’d never withhold the truth from her again. Even when it might hurt. Especially when it might hurt. Because he knew that nothing he’d done in that hospital had hurt her more than the lie he told her on the outskirts of Jackson. 

And I’ll never do that to her again. 

As he made his way down the stairs, he heard her moving around in the kitchen, the sound of plates being set on the counter meeting his ears. “I’m making sandwiches,” she yelled when the fourth step from the bottom creaked under his weight. “You want one?” 

“Sure, kiddo.”  What happened to stayin’ with your friends? Everything alright?” He wasn’t trying to distract her by keeping her talking before she saw his arm, but Joel wanted her to hear it in his voice that he was okay. 

She groaned. “Kat and Dina are having some kind of stupid drama and I didn’t wanna get sucked into it so I decided to come home. You know, they’re both important to me but sometimes they can just - Fuck! Joel! What the?” 

He’d walked into the kitchen at the same time that she looked up from the slices of bread that she was piling with leftover chicken, the sight of him making her stop what she was doing and scramble around the island to stand in front of him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s…” He held up both hands, only wincing a little at the pull of his stitches when he lifted his arm. “I’m fine, Ellie. Just a cut.” 

“Well …” Her eyes were wide but she tore  them from the bandage to look up at him. “Well, what happened? I thought it was supposed to be an easy run?” 

“It was. But you know as well as I do that easy runs can turn, yeah?” He reached forward, placing his hand on her shoulder and tilting his head to the side. “Hey. I’m okay, kiddo.” Giving her a light squeeze, he waited for her to nod and accept what he was saying, and then he shot a glance at the half-finished sandwiches. “C’mon, I’m starvin’. Let’s eat and I’ll fill you in.” 

Just like he did the night that he and Tommy brought you into town, Joel sat down and told her everything that happened at the optometrist’s office - how the pair of infected had seemingly come from nowhere and were suddenly on the two of you, how the one that lunged at him managed to knock him backwards and through a glass case, how you had made sure that the wound was cleaned and tended to as best as you could. And though she had been concerned and rattled at the beginning of his story, Ellie was wearing something close to a smirk as he finished. 

“Oh.” She bit off a mouthful of her sandwich, raising her eyebrows as she chewed and speaking again before she swallowed. “So you like… really trust this chick, huh?” 

Joel clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Her too? First Tommy and now- “That’s your comment? Not ‘Well I’m glad you had someone there to help you, Joel’?” 

Ellie rolled her eyes right back. “Yeah, yeah that too. But I mean…” She gave a casual, one-shouldered shrug. “First you let her take care of you, then you decide to both sleep at the same time instead of taking shifts?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. “You never do that unless it’s me or Tommy.” Something dawned on her then, and she turned mid-chew toward the sink, gesturing towards it with the hand that still held what was left of her sandwich. “Wait. Is that why there’s two glasses in there? Did she come over when you got back to town?” 

“What? No. Ellie…” He sighed, and shook his head. “No. There’s two glasses in the sink because Tommy was here earlier, not-” 

“Well you should invite her over for dinner then. As a thank you-” She emphasized her intention to silence his protest. “- for sewing you up, you know?” 

Joel took a bite of his food, chewing it slowly to buy himself more time before answering. The idea of having you in his home, sharing a meal, talking and laughing - he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it. But I don’t know if she… 

He thought back to his own first few months in Jackson and how skittish he was every time someone would try to include him in anything that wasn’t directly related to security or survival. It all still seemed so impractical. Cookouts and movie nights and holidays while the world outside the walls continued to crumble? And then there was the guilt. That grating, shredding near-constant feeling that he shouldn’t be there - shouldn’t be safe, shouldn’t be happy or comfortable or even alive - not when Tess didn’t get to be there too. Not when Sarah never had a chance to. You hadn’t said much about the things you’d been through or the people you’d lost, other than that you’d recently lost your nephew. But Joel knew from experience that while those devastating wounds never fully healed, they did become less raw when they were given some time.   

I’d like it. But I don’t know if she’s ready for somethin’ like that. He swallowed and brought a hand up to wipe his mouth. Yet. 

“Maybe when the weather’s nicer an’ we can cook outside.” He got up from the table and took his plate with him, setting it in the sink next to the two glasses. 

The scrape of chair legs on the floor told him that Ellie had gotten up, too, the girl appearing at his elbow to stack her plate atop his. “What does the weather have to do with-” He shot her a look then and she rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. But we’re circling back to this in June.” 

Joel leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Speakin’ of circling back, you said somethin’ about your friends fightin’? You wanna talk about that?” He lifted one eyebrow as she shot him a look of her own. 

“I do not.” 

Joel snorted a laugh. “Alright, then. Just try not to go breakin’ too many hearts, yeah? You don’t-” 

Without missing a beat, Ellie grabbed the dish towel that was hanging on the oven handle, balling it up and throwing it at his face. “Shut up.” She was laughing too, though, bending down to pick up the towel after Joel had batted it away. “So stupid.” Straightening back up with an exaggerated sigh, she whipped the towel onto the countertop. “On that note, I’m gonna get outta here.” She glanced at his arm, mouth dipping into a quick frown that was gone by the time she looked back up at his face. “I’m glad you’re home, Joel. Have a good night.” 

He smiled, chest warming as he did. “G’night, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that she turned and was nearly out the door when something caught her eye and she stopped in front of the refrigerator. “Hey, you got a new magnet.” She pointed at the note she’d left him, now stuck up with the square-ish shape of Wyoming. “I used the cowhead one but this one’s-” She looked over her shoulder, a smirk beginning to grow. “You brought home a souvenir from your trip, huh? So you could remember it? Any reason for that?” 

Joel narrowed his eyes at her, but all it did was pull a laugh out of her. “Good night, Ellie.”  She laughed all the way down the back porch steps but Joel didn’t mind. She ain’t wrong.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know! You can also fill out the form on my masterlist!

Tags: @something-tofightfor  @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @amb11 @mindidjarin @jk7789 @tentacruels @cannedsoupsucks @harriedandharassed @marauderskeeper @joelmillerscoffee @woodlandmouth @swtaura @grfields @valkblue​ @stealyourblorbos @sleepylunarwolf @trickstersp8 @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @mumma-moonchild @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @anoverwhelmingdin @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @Noisynightmarepoetry

[joelmillerscoffee]

thank you so much for the tag lovely! @misspearly1 ♡

Rules: tag a few people you want to know better; make a new post, don’t reblog!

Favourite colour: Purple

Currently reading: literally all the joel miller fan fics I can get my hands on! Also all the pedro pascal character fan fics.

Last Song: Haunting by Halsey

Last Movie: The Bubble

Last series: this flag means death!!!! I have been catching up on all the law and order shows, moonknight, the witcher, abbott elementary, and home economics are also some of my favorites at the moment

Sweet, spicy or savoury: All of it p l s

Coffee or Tea: Coffee hands down!!! I am a coffee snob

Three ships: Ellie x Dina, Din x Cobb, Ed x Stede!!!!!

First ship ever: omg probably Anakin x Padme when I was like 8 lol!

Currently working on: Trying to hold everything together and get through this semester so I can breathe again!

Fave piece of clothing: My cardigan and my the shinning t-shirt

Comfort food: Ben and Jerry’s ice cream the strawberry cheesecake flavor!

Fave time of year: Fall is my favorite time of year! I love when the leaves start turning colors and I can wear my flannels and sweatshirts

Fave fan fiction: omg there are so many to choose from! there are so many talented authors on this site! literally anything from @misspearly1, @something-tofightfor, @absurdthirst, @storiesofthefandomlovers and honestly i cannot stress enough how much i love @the-blind-assassin-12's joel miller x reader fic survivor blues!!!

Tagging: no pressure to do this at all! only if you would like to ♡ @itssmashedavo, @joelmillersgirlfriend, @joelsgeetar, @the-blind-assassin-12, @something-tofightfor, @frankie-catfish-morales

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 22

read on ao3 (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 7.3k

no context spoiler for this chapter: pride and prejudice mr. darcy hand flex scene ;)

Chapter 22: 'Running Up That Hill'

Juliet's POV:

Juliet ran her finger over the map, tracing the colourful lines on the crinkled paper. The low autumn sun filtered in through the truck windows, tossing golden light onto her trembling hands. Juliet hadn’t stopped shaking since she awoke in the woods two days prior, when she finally regained some sort of lucidity. Luckily, the vibrations from the truck masked the tremble as her whole body shook with the speed of the vehicle. Joel’s driving was always an experience.  

They followed a series of bold blue lines to Cody. Joel was adamant that they would find his brother there. Juliet wasn’t so sure. She didn’t much believe in hope anymore. 

As they continued down the never ending highway, the surrounding trees began to lessen and, having lost their shadows, the sun started to blind Juliet. She squinted her eyes against the rays and her trembling fingers rose to reach for the sun visor. But as she leaned forward, the muscles in her stomach stretched and her body screamed in pain with the brutal reminder of her burn. Juliet groaned low and her arm instantly returned to her side. Sweat broke out across her forehead as she inhaled deep breaths, attempting to slow her heart rate. 

Days had passed but the pain showed no sign of lessening and Juliet was sick of playing the weakling. It was an effort not to make any more noise as pain continued to ripple through her, so she sucked in a silent breath through gritted teeth and waited for the fire in her stomach to dwindle. 

One shallow breath later and a hand, still stained with the memory of blood, reached over from its resting position on the wheel and pulled down her visor. Juliet blinked as the sun was shielded from her vision and her eyes cut to the man the hand belonged to. Joel’s stare was unreadable and his eyes dropped to her stomach before returning to her shocked face. “Careful” he murmured, before his gaze latched onto the road again.

Juliet blinked slowly, still shaken by his momentary close proximity. Somehow, no matter how long they went without a shower, Joel always managed to keep his musky scent of pine and smoke. Juliet wanted to bathe in it, let the smell entirely surround her. It reminded her of working in the QZ, side by side with Joel. It reminded her of nights spent sleeping in Bill’s truck or tucked in sleeping bags under the stars. It reminded her of that night in the dark house, her hands still soaked with his blood as she felt the scruff of his jaw scratch against her skin.  

Juliet’s hand involuntarily tensed, crinkling the map with her clenched fingers. She began to build that brick wall in her mind again, closing that memory in, desperate to keep it tucked away. Joel had killed her father. He was right, though, he had to do it, her father had to die. But how could she know that and still react the way she did to the memory of his lips on hers? She was sick, deranged even. 

Joel was wrong for her. He was too old, too angry, too mean. And yet Juliet was unable to breathe around him; when he brushed against her or held her aching body under the stars. She blinked away that memory too. 

Juliet shook her head, desperate to focus on the map in front of her. Joel was relying on her for directions, just as he had throughout their whole journey together. Ethan had attempted to sit shotgun that morning, going so far as to open the door and take the seat. Joel wasn’t having it, though. He had claimed that Ethan couldn’t read a map “for shit” and was determined that Juliet take the seat beside him. 

They had argued for a while, until Joel became almost frighteningly silent and Ethan got in the back with a few choice curse words under his breath. Juliet hadn’t realised he’d known those words. 

Now, Ethan sat with his arms crossed and his eyes latched firmly on the back of Joel’s head. Juliet snuck a peak behind her, the best she could in her pained state, and Ethan quickly met her eyes with a small smile. She tried to return the gesture but her mouth curved into more of a grimace. Juliet knew that Ethan wasn’t happy with her, that he didn’t like Joel and didn’t want to be stuck in this truck with him. But he had stayed, for her…

Juliet’s chest tightened as her debt to him increased. 

They would reach Cody within the next couple hours. Joel was worried about the dark so the plan was to find somewhere to lay low for the night before they began to scope out the town in the morning. Juliet could feel Joel’s anxiety. Somehow, his broad shoulders grew tighter as they closed in on the last place his brother had contacted him from. His regular tapping on the wheel increased at a rapid speed, Juliet didn’t think he was even aware of it.

She was desperate to reach over and enclose her hand over his. 

As Joel shifted gears and increased his speed, Juliet allowed her mind to wander. She allowed herself to think about comforting him the way he had comforted her. How would he react to her touch? Would Joel welcome her attention? Or brush her off? 

There were so many lines they walked: between smuggler and cargo, friend and acquaintance, accomplice and opponent. Juliet was afraid to bridge the gap, the guilt that lived inside her raged with every thought of Joel’s touch. Ethan was in the backseat, Ethan had saved her, he had suffered for years because of her. She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t even visualise Joel returning her feelings. Juliet didn’t even know what those feelings were, but more and more she was struggling to deny that they existed.

…………………………………………………

When they reached Cody, they all sat up a bit straighter. The light was fading fast, but Juliet’s breath caught at the mountains towering over the town. They made her feel small, made everything seem small. The silence was heavy between them and Joel began to tense. Juliet didn’t dare look at his face, she couldn’t bear to see that scrunch of his eyebrows which hinted at danger ahead. They had been through too much, and everything inside her mind was still so blurry. Juliet couldn’t handle another trauma - she could barely remember the last one. 

Ethan leaned forward, resting his forearm on the back of Juliet’s seat and pushing the front of his body into the space between Joel and Juliet. Juliet shifted closer to the door to make room for his presence. 

“See any demons?” he whispered as the truck slowly moved down the city street.

Joel’s eyes cut to Ethan, a question printed on his face.

“He means the infected,” Juliet murmured as she continued staring straight ahead. Their community didn’t know much about the current blight of the world. Her father had always called them ‘demons’ but never went into detail. Juliet remembered the first time she saw an infected person, stumbling around in a carpark with Blake by her side. She remembered the sound of his gunshot in her ears when it fell to the ground.

Joel didn’t respond, he just tensed his hand on the wheel. Juliet could tell he was entirely focused on their surroundings, scanning every shop window, every corner of every darkening street they passed.

“Looks clear to me,” Ethan announced in a hard voice following the heavy silence, tilting his head towards Juliet. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was scanning the roads like Joel, holding her breath with every passing second. It was almost too quiet in Cody, surely they would have seen at least one infected stumbling around somewhere. Juliet began to curl her fingers into fists, ignoring the pain from her tender palms. 

If Tommy wasn’t here, if there was nowhere for them to go… Juliet didn’t know if there was enough room in her soul to house another blow.

Joel slowed the truck to a stop on what looked like a mainstreet. They said nothing for a moment, still waiting, still listening for danger. Sometimes, in the silence, there lay the deadliest of threats.  

“We’ll get out,” Joel began his command, before cutting his eyes to Ethan, “Quietly ” he insisted with raised eyebrows. Juliet watched as Ethan rolled his eyes and sank backwards into the back of the truck. 

“We don’t know what’s out there, but we gotta find somewhere to stay for the night,” Joel continued. Juliet nodded in response, used to this routine. She felt renewed by this small sense of purpose, this small comfort of familiarity. 

For his next instruction, Joel turned in his seat, facing Ethan. “Don’t do anythin’ stupid” he ground out in a low, dark voice, as his eyes narrowed. Juliet attempted to swallow down the tension which lay thick in the air. 

After a long moment, Ethan muttered out an agreement then bent forward and began to rifle through his backpack, before pulling out a handgun and making sure it was loaded. They must have cleared out the armoury before leaving the community, because Juliet and Joel had one too, along with two shotguns in the back. 

Before she could attempt to lean forward, and aggravate the burn on her stomach, her backpack landed on her lap. Joel leaned over the gear stick, his scent of pine and smoke washing over her, as he began to search through her bag, finding her gun and ammo and depositing them into Juliet’s awaiting hands. When he was done, he moved to his own backpack and did the same. 

Tears threatened to fill Juliet’s eyes. The silent gesture from Joel flooded her body with a comforting warmth. Juliet didn’t say thank you, she knew Joel wouldn’t want her to. She just loaded her gun and blinked away her glossy eyes, quietly steeling herself for what the night would bring. 

……………………………

They exited the truck as the sky darkened into a vibrant shade of navy blue. Juliet’s legs were stiff and her body felt unusually heavy, her limbs trembled with the chill in the air. The weather had changed rapidly in the last few days, autumn was now truly upon them and Juliet wished for a warmer wardrobe. Joel had found her a new shirt, to replace the one they had to cut open, but the soft flannel wasn’t enough to shield her body from the cold. 

Her backpack hung from her hand as Juliet braced herself to swing it over her shoulders, she knew the strain that would have on her stomach. So she took a couple deep breaths and listened to the quiet sounds of Ethan rounding the truck towards her, before biting her lip and begining to lift her arms. 

Her backpack had barely moved before a heavy weight landed on her shoulders with a warmth which forced a low groan to instantly release from her lips. She looked down and realised that it was a jacket… Joel’s jacket. The jacket was far too big for her, almost swallowing her down to her knees. Joel stood before her, staring down at her wide eyes and gently took the backpack from her icy hands. 

“Joel, no. I can’t take this,” she protested, trying to shrug the jacket from her shoulders.

Joel raised his free hand, silencing her.

“Take it,” he commanded, leaving no room for a returning argument.

She wanted to fight back on this, demand that Joel take his jacket back. But it was so warm and it smelled so much like him, and Juliet was so cold. So, she nodded slowly and pulled her arms through the sleeves, rolling them up so her hands could move freely. When Joel was satisfied, he lifted her bag and threaded her arms through the straps, until it hung securely from her back. 

Juliet’s cheeks were burning. She hated that she couldn’t do this for herself, that her injury retrained almost every movement she made. And she hated that Joel saw her like this, as weak and defenceless, as something he had to look after, like a child. Her father had done this to her, he had taken away her dignity and all that was left was a shell of who Juliet once was. She wasn’t a survivor anymore, she was barely a person. 

Joel’s eyes scanned her face and Juliet watched as a muscle jumped in his tight jaw. She nodded again, this time to show her gratitude. Joel just looked at her a moment longer and moved away, facing the darkening street in front of them as he sorted his own backpack.

Juliet pulled the jacket tighter around her and turned to find Ethan leaning on the side of the truck, an unreadable expression covered his face. But he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at the jacket now hanging loose on her shivering form. His eyebrows pinched together and he ran his free hand over his mouth, before he tugged the corners of his lips into his signature smile, which didn’t quite reach his eyes, and gestured with a tilt of his head that they should get moving. 

Joel walked with his usual quick stride, his heavy steps somehow quiet on the concrete ground. Juliet held her gun steady in her hand, Ethan, who walked beside her, did the same. When Juliet looked closer at Ethan, she noticed his hands were trembling and his shoulders were tight. A sharp bolt of pity fired through her when she remembered that Ethan had no real experience with the outside world. As they walked down this empty street, the masked terror in Ethan’s eyes reminded her of the girl Blake found in the woods all those years ago. She ached to reach out, to offer some comfort, some reassurance for her friend but she needed to keep her wits about her. With every step they took, Juliet grew more and more uneasy. Surely Tommy wasn’t hiding out here? It was too open, too achingly quiet. 

Juliet knew that Joel wouldn’t want to go far from the truck so she was unsurprised when his steps slowed outside a building with minimal broken windows and somewhat undisturbed brickwork. He turned to Juliet, tossed his shotgun over his shoulder, and nodded their usual signal for her to keep watch. Her eyes instantly focused on the streets, listening intently for anything amiss as Joel began the work of finding an entry into the building. 

Ethan started to pace, holding his gun out in front of him. Even in the near complete darkness, with only the moon to light their surroundings, Juliet could see that Ethan’s eyes had taken on a glaze of wild fear. 

“Ethan,” she hissed, trying desperately to get his attention without making much noise.

Ethan’s eyes quickly cut to her but only for a second before they latched back onto the dark street. She tried again, this time moving closer to him. “What’s wrong?” she whispered urgently.

Ethan had stopped pacing. He stood eerily still as he lifted his gun higher. Panic struck Juliet with a fierce blow when she realised that he was aiming at something. 

Juliet squinted her eyes, searching through the darkness for the source of Ethan’s terror. 

Her breath caught when she spotted it. There. A figure stumbling out from behind a car. 

Juliet would recognise those jerky movements anywhere. 

An infected.

And Ethan had his gun trained on it. But he didn’t know what the infected were like. He didn't know that if saw one then there were probably hundreds somewhere else, just waiting for a sound to alert them of their presence. 

“Ethan, no ” Juliet hissed, reaching her hand towards him. 

But it was too late.

Ethan fired the shot and, of course, even in the dark, it landed on its target. Ethan was the one to teach Juliet how to shoot, after all. The infected fell to the ground without a sound, but the gunshot was deafening.

She froze, her hand still outstretched as Joel rushed up to Ethan and pried the gun from his hands.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” Joel demanded, grabbing hold of Ethan’s shoulder with his free hand. Ethan turned to him, his eyes wide.

“I did it,” he gushed, attempting to shrug off Joel’s crushing grip. “I killed one of them.”

“Yeah and lit up a target on our heads. Every infected in the area is gonna follow that sound directly to us,” Joel fumed, doing his best to keep his voice low, but his rage was screaming out of him. 

Ethan recoiled, the relief gone. Joel let him tug himself free. “Shit,” Ethan cursed, running his hand through his hair. 

“We need to move,” Juliet whispered, searching Joel’s face for instructions. 

Before Joel could answer. Before any of them could move. They heard the sound Juliet dreaded with every fibre of her soul.

Gargling. Screeching. Footsteps, pounding on the concrete.

Without a second thought, Joel grabbed Juleit’s arm and pulled her towards the store. Juliet stumbled to the door, her fear weighing her down. She turned and saw, from the distance, a black mass moving at lightning speed, hitting off of abandoned cars and stumbling over each other. 

Joel was right. Ethan had led a mass of infected right to them. 

Joel pulled against the latch he had just burst open with the handle of his shotgun, pulling the door open and pushing Juliet through. She didn’t have a choice, Joel had moved so quickly she hadn't even had time to protest, to beg for Joel to help Ethan. Within seconds the door was shut and Juliet was alone in the darkness. 

She turned to the window, her heart was beating so fast she could hear her blood rushing in her ears. From the foggy glass she could see Joel and Ethan arguing before Joel grabbed hold of Ethan’s shirt and dragged him towards the door. Juliet stumbled back as they entered, Ethan ran straight into her chest, knocking the air out of her. It took everything in Juliet to not scream in pain.

“Watch it,” Joel growled at Ethan. 

Ethan had stumbled to the wall and dropped his head into his hands. His fingers were shaking.

“Quick, barricade the door,” Juliet urged, trying her best to bend towards a cabinet but Joel got there first, gently nudging her out the way and pushing the cabinet in front of the door. Juliet moved towards the window, and instantly jumped back at the horror outside the shop.

The infected had descended upon the street. Hundreds stumbling about in the dark, their heads turning at unnatural angles attempting to hear the sounds of their victims. Juliet turned around slowly, her finger glued to her lips.

Joel froze at the sight of her face and moved to the window. They both gazed out, Juliet's shoulder pressed against Joel’s bicep. The muscles in his arm were tense right down to his clenched hand against the windowsill. She could still make out the cuts on his knuckles. The evidence of what he had done for her. Juliet couldn’t let this be the end of his story, when he was so close to finding his brother. Joel deserved peace. He deserved a life without broken knuckles and blood on his hands. 

Despite her fuzzy brain and the lightheadedness that had begun to dilute her thoughts. Juliet scrambled to create a plan.

“We keep quiet, keep out of sight tonight. Then, in the morning we can plan a way out of here,” Juliet murmured, glad that Joel stood so close so she didn’t have to speak any louder and risk one of the infected hearing. In the morning light, they would be able to see a way out of this mess. 

Joel nodded and his face tilted down towards her. ‘Upstairs’ he mouthed with a jerk of his chin. 

Juliet agreed they had to get as far away from the door as possible. Tucked further into the building, they might have a chance of surviving the night. 

Ethan still stood pressed against the wall. Juliet gestured to him that they should find their way upstairs and he nodded, finally understanding the gravity of their situation and the need to stay quiet. Juliet would be lying if she said she wasn’t annoyed at this callousness. He should have known better. He should have listened to her, listened to Joel. Juliet wondered if he felt a need to prove himself by killing that infected, to prove that he could survive in this world like she had. Juliet had never known Ethan to be a jealous person, but the years changed people. She knew that more than anyone.

Despite her annoyance, she still brushed her fingers against his hand as she walked past him towards the stairs. Yet, before she could take the first step, Joel tapped her shoulder and raised his hand, asking her to wait. She paused, a question on her lips. Then she watched as Joel reluctantly handed Ethan his gun back. Ethan wrapped his hand around the handle but Joel wouldn’t let go. He held tight even as Ethan pulled against the weapon. Ethan pulled again, harder this time. But Joel held steady.

Just when Juliet was about to step in, Joel grabbed the collar of Ethan’s shirt, pulling him in close. Joel whispered in his ear, words that Juliet was unable to make out. When he was finished, Joel let go and Ethan stumbled back a couple steps, the gun now in his hands. Juliet cringed as Ethan gained his footing, worried he would make a sound by crashing into something. 

Joel turned back to her with the slightest hint of satisfaction in his tense expression. Juliet furrowed her eyebrows but allowed Joel to step around her and begin their slow, silent journey up the stairs with his gun raised in one hand and his torch now gripped in the other, lighting their way.

With each step, Joel paused, testing the stability of the steps. Juliet thought back to their time in the museum in Boston, when the entire staircase crumbled beneath them. It felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, Juliet had known exactly where her life would take her. She had a purpose. She had a reason to keep going. Now… Juliet wasn’t exactly sure why she was still putting one foot in front of the other. 

She tensed her fingers around the handle of her gun, following Joel’s footsteps as they inched their way up the stairs. Ethan was a few steps behind her, she could hear his quiet breaths. 

When Joel reached the stop, Juliet paused, waiting for him to sweep the hallway with his torch. They stayed silent, it still wasn’t safe to make a sound as more infected could be hidden upstairs. After a moment, Joel nodded down at them and Juliet stepped onto the hardwood floor. She had thought this was a store, but she was wrong. It looked more like an office building. If they could find an office at the back and barricade the door, they could stay safe until morning light where they could use the window to plot their way back to the truck. 

Juliet eased a slow breath from her lips, finally feeling the weight on her shoulders ease. Just a few more steps, sweep the upstairs, then they could rest. Juliet struggled to stand for too long, her head still ached with the force of her father’s blow, along with the bruising on her ankles. She was ashamed at how weak her father had made her. 

Joel walked forward, avoiding a couple crumbling floorboards and pointed his torch into the first room. Juliet was about to signal to Joel that they should split up, sweep the rooms individually then meet back in the hallway. But then she thought of Ethan and his trigger happy tendencies and she restrained herself with a grimace. They should stick together. 

Juliet followed Joel into the first room, surprised by the lavish furnishing. It was large, far larger than her father’s office had been. Against the far wall, sat a desk with a leather chair, and as Joel swung around the torch she realised there were two other rooms housed within this deceptively massive space. 

Realising Ethan wasn’t behind her, she turned, searching for him in the darkness. Not daring to say his name and disturb the quiet, Juliet walked back towards the door, her steps quickening with her increasing panic. Where was he? What was wrong? Was he hurt? 

Every worried thought vanished from Juliet’s head as she crashed to the floor.

With Joel’s torch pointed in the other direction, Juliet hadn’t seen the box on the ground. She hit the hard floor with a piercing cry, landing on her stomach. Juliet had to breathe through the intense pulse of nausea which attacked her. 

“Ethan!” she cried, still searching for him, even from her position on the floor. 

“Juliet!” Joel bellowed from the far corner of the room, as he ran over towards her.

As Juliet lifted her head, everything went into slow motion.

She could hear Joel’s footsteps thundering towards her, his torchlight bouncing off of the walls. And as the light hit the entryway, she noticed a black crack staining what was left of the white paint above the door. That wasn’t odd, every building was covered in cracks. 

This one, however, was growing, rapidly.

“Ethan!” she screamed, not caring anymore who could hear her. 

“I'm coming!” he yelled back, it sounded as though he was in a different room. 

“No, no, no, no,” Juliet began to murmur, louder and louder, because the crack wasn’t just a crack anymore, it was a gaping hole in the wall. And as Juliet muttered out her final ‘ no’ the ceiling over the entryway came crashing down in a cloud of plaster and brick.

…………………………………

When the ceiling had finished collapsing, leaving only the wooden beams of the attic to protect them from the sky, Joel’s hands finally found her. He gripped Juliet by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet, his breaths heavy in her ear. 

“You alright?” he demanded, brushing the white dust off of her face. His eyes were wild as they scanned her from head to toe.

Juliet gripped his arm tight and leaned forward, vomiting at their feet.

It really was like their time in the museum , she thought, grimly.  

“Shhh,” Joel murmured, pulling back her knotted strands of dark hair as she continued to spit bile onto the floor. 

Juliet couldn’t even feel the embarrassment of the situation. All she could focus on was the pain in her body and the warm touch of Joel’s fingers in her hair. 

But as her mind returned to her, fierce panic struck her cold.

“Ethan,” she coughed. “He was in the hallway, Joel. Oh god, what if he’s…” she stuttered, her words spilling out of her. The rubble had sealed them in, she couldn’t see into the hallway at all. 

“Etha -” she started to scream, moving to push past Joel. But he was quicker. Joel pulled Juliet to him so her backpack was pressed tight against his chest and he curled his large hand over her mouth. Juliet wriggled against him, trying to free herself from his intense grip. 

Then she heard the sound that haunted so many of her nightmares.

Click. 

Click. 

Click.  

Juliet choked on her breath, thankful for Joel’s hand over her mouth to quiet the sound. 

Click. 

Click. 

Click. 

They heard it again. This time, she could make out which direction it was coming from. The door to their left was left open and she could see a shadow starting to make its way towards the main room. Joel’s torch lay somewhere on the floor behind them, casting dramatic shadows over the room. 

Juliet reached her hand out to grip Joel’s. He squeezed back, curling his fingers over her own, squeezing, as he released his other hand from her mouth. Juliet felt Joel slide his hand around to his back pocket and pull out his handgun. Another flood of panic struck her. Her gun flew from her hand when she tripped. It was somewhere on the floor, but without proper lighting, she couldn’t see where. 

She needed that gun if she was going to get out of here. Without thinking, Juliet released Joel’s hand and took a step forward… onto a loose floorboard.

First, the wood screeched and groaned and Juliet froze, her entire body pausing mid-step. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited, cursing herself for her own stupidity.

Then came a different screech. A gargling, wet, scream erupted from the other room and the clicker came barreling into the main office space. 

Juliet felt Joel grab her by the backpack and swing her around until she stood behind him. He raised his gun, aiming for the clicker’s head, but the shadows were making it difficult and it was getting too close. 

Joel slammed into the clicker, still firing shots. Juliet watched in horror, she had no weapons, nothing to help kill the monster in his arms. Her eyes were wide and frantic as she scanned the floor for her gun. 

Click. 

Click. 

Click. 

Juliet’s head turned with a dizzying speed. There it was. Another clicker. It must have been in the back room. And now, it was headed straight for her. 

Juliet darted to the side, evading its first attack. But as she moved, she quickly realised that she was backing herself into a wall. A scream crawled its way up her throat and she tried to dart her eyes towards Joel, but there was no time. 

The clicker was rapidly approaching, Juliet could smell the decay simmering on its body. If she wasn’t so terrified she would have gagged again. Having no weapons, Juliet did the next best thing: she grabbed the large leather chair and swung it in front of her as the clicker finally caught up to her.

It slammed into the leather and what remained of its teeth snapped at her from behind the chair as its almost claw-like fingers missed her face by an inch. Her terror overpowered her, she didn’t realise it at first, but she was screaming. A fierce, blood curdling scream. 

Across the room she heard another shot and the sound of a body hitting the ground. Through a gap in the chair, her eyes caught sight of a clicker on the ground. Dead. 

“Jul -” Joel started to shout before he was cut off. 

There was another clicker, behind Joel this time. Like Juliet, he was backed into a wall. 

Tears started to flood down Juliet’s face as the clicker continued its snarling attack while Juliet crouched in terror. Juliet was beginning to realise that this wasn’t quite like the museum, afterall. Back then, Juliet had a weapon. Back then, Juliet had Joel. Back then, Juliet had a reason to fight.

But what was left for her now? Why was she still fighting against these monsters? She had nothing to protect herself with - what was the point?

Her father was dead. She had saved Ethan, and now he might be dead too. She had no family, nowhere to go. No real reason to go on. 

Maybe there was nowhere safe left in the world. Maybe, in every room, in every building, in every city, there was a monster in the closet. Juliet didn’t know if she had the energy to fight them anymore.

She was supposed to die in that basement. She had accepted it. 

Maybe now, it was time. 

With another sob, Juliet eased her grip on the chair. Her decision washed over her, calming her terror. She’d had enough. She was done. 

Still sheltered by the chair, Juliet used her last moment to find Joel. Tears blurred her vision, but she could make out his blurry figure kicking and slashing at the clicker. He was yelling something. Juliet thought it might be her name. But she wasn’t sure. 

Without realising, Juliet had regained her grip on the chair, pushing it back against the clicker, stifling its attack. Her body shook with its movements. She continued staring at Joel as her panic returned. As she watched him struggle against the monster, Juliet struggled to catch her breath. 

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t watch Joel die. This wasn’t fair. He had to find his brother. He had to live. He still had a reason to go on. 

He wasn’t supposed to die. 

Juliet couldn’t look away from his quick, sharp movements. He drove his knife into the clicker over and over, with such strength and such fury as he screamed her name. 

“Joel!” she yelled back, her voice croaky as his name spilled out of her without warning.

He had a knife.

Wait.

So did she. 

Juliet braced herself, pushing with all her strength in her left arm as she freed her right and slid it down into her boot. When she brought it back up to push against the leather chair, between her fingers was her rose carved switchblade. 

Her father’s guards hadn’t taken it.

It had been in her boot this whole time. 

Juliet screamed with every bit of fury still left in her weary soul and pushed against the chair, knocking the clicker backwards. With the adrenaline pumping through her veins, her pain was no longer a concern, and Juliet leapt to her feet, scrambling over the chair. With one push from her finger, the blade sprung free. The clicker grabbed her shoulder, pulling her towards it, its teeth ready to slash into her neck. 

But Juliet was faster. She used the clicker’s momentum to twist her body to the side and drive her knife into its neck. Black, slimy blood splattered across her face but the clicker kept coming at her. Juliet pulled the knife out with a force which almost knocked her backwards. She stumbled but straightened enough to drive the knife towards the clicker’s head, all while dodging its vicious attacks.

She pierced its open skull with her blade.

The clicker slowed but its attack continued. 

Juliet pulled back and stabbed into the skull again, as the clicker’s fingers sliced against Joel’s jacket. 

This time, the clicker dropped to the ground, releasing its grip on her. 

For good measure, Juliet bent down and brought her knife down another few times. Not caring as more blood splattered her face. 

“Juliet!” Joel grunted out from across the room. 

She twisted, launching to her feet, almost tripping over the first fallen clicker as she ran to Joel. 

Near him on the floor, she could see her gun lying where she had dropped it. 

She picked it up, moved towards the clicker and fired a shot. 

The clicker was propelled backwards with the bullet in its neck and the force from Joel’s kick. But it wasn’t enough, she needed a shot in the head. Juliet put all of her fear, anger and desperation into her next shot. 

The clicker stilled on the floor, inky black blood oozing from its many wounds. 

The clicker was dead but Juliet’s body was like a live wire. Her fingers shook so hard she thought she might drop her gun. 

Her eyes moved from the monster on the floor to the man against the wall. Joel stood with his hands on his knees, breathing heavy. 

“Are you okay?” Juliet gasped out as she staggered over to him, tucking her gun into her pocket. 

Before she could reach him, Joel closed the gap between them in two strides, grabbing hold of her shoulders. His face was coated in sweat and his eyes were blazing, they were entirely black. Juliet should have been terrified of him. He was the picture of danger and rage. But all she felt was relief. He was alive. He was safe. He was okay. 

Joel’s hands moved from her shoulders to her face. His fingers roamed over her forehead, down to her chin, behind her neck, across her collarbone, under his jacket, under her flannel. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Joel growled as his fingers continued their exploration. Juliet thought he was looking for bites but this felt different. It felt like he was assessing every inch of her, desperately feeling for himself if she was alive, if she was actually standing in front of him. 

Juliet did the same, she reached up to his face and cupped her hand over his jaw as her eyes met his. “Do what?” she whispered back. Her body shivered with Joel’s touch. He was unrelenting, his hands roamed everywhere. After a long look into her questioning eyes, his head dropped to her neck and his lips started to roam the delicate skin behind her ear. Juliet couldn’t help the moan that slipped out.

“Make me think you were dead,” Joel replied with a murmur against her neck. Juliet felt his words under her skin, his rough, low, voice sank deeper, and deeper into her body. 

“Can’t lose you,” he continued as his hands squeezed her waist. It was like he was in a trance, Juliet could feel his heartbeat pounding against her chest. She felt frenzied, she couldn’t get enough of him. Was this how being alive was supposed to feel?

Joel pulled back until their eyes met again. His black stare melted into her own as his hand left her waist and his thumb brushed over her lips. 

“So beautiful,” he said with a low growl which, combined with his southern drawl, made his words almost unintelligible. 

But Juliet heard him, and she could read the words written in his deep stare. His thumb brushed back and forth over her lips and warmth flooded Juliet’s entire body.

With a low groan rumbling from his chest, Joel closed the gap between them. 

His mouth crashed onto Juliet’s and Joel wasted no time parting her lips. Their kiss wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t nice, it wasn’t gentle. It was hot, messy, and wrong, so wrong. Joel’s fingers gripped the back of her neck, pushing her closer, holding her in place as his mouth claimed her’s. Juliet palmed his chest, reaching under his shirt, gripping his belt, pulling him closer. She needed him with a primal intensity. Colours flashed across her vision as their teeth crashed into each other. 

Joel’s chest rumbled with low growls as Juliet attempted to say his name with every quick breath. Her mind echoed over and over: Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. It was like a chant, a prayer. But she needed more. The hand tucked under his shirt spread around to his back and Juliet scratched her torn nails down his skin. Joel’s tongue invaded her mouth in response as his other hand tugged her hair into his tight grip. 

Still, she needed more.

Juliet pushed against Joel until he was pressed against the wall behind them. She couldn’t get enough, her entire body was on fire. Her hands were everywhere, they rounded the front of his shirt this time and then started to descend lower, and lower until her fingers tugged on his belt. She felt his hips thrust as his teeth nipped at her lips and his hand tugged tighter on her hair. Her fingers shook as she struggled against his belt buckle -

“Juliet? Joel?!” a voice called from a distance. 

Juliet launched herself from Joel, stumbling backwards as flung herself from his orbit. Joel stood plastered against the wall, his hair a mess and his shirt open, revealing the trail of hair leading into his dark jeans. The place her hand just pressed against. 

“Juliet! Can you hear me?” 

Ethan. 

“Oh god,” Juliet gasped out as she lifted her fingers to her mouth, feeling her swollen lips. What had she done? How could she have forgotten Ethan? 

Joel stared down at her, making no move to fix himself. He was waiting to see what she would do, how she would react. 

Juliet spun around, finally remembering the devastation around her. There were three dead clickers on the floor and they were sealed in with the debris from the ceiling. Ethan was in the hallway, calling her name. And what was Juliet doing? Kissing Joel. She could barely verbalise those words inside her own head. 

It felt so good. Juliet didn’t know she could feel like that. She didn’t know those feelings even existed. 

“Juliet” Ethan called again, his voice was desperate, terrified for her. 

Her guilt strangled her.

“Ethan!” she yelled, stumbling over to the debris. “I’m here, I’m here.” 

Juliet started to pull against the plaster and bricks which blocked their exit and Ethan did the same from the other side. She didn’t dare turn around, she couldn’t bear to see the look on Joel’s face. What could she say to him? She didn’t even understand what just happened. So, Juliet kept pulling against the debris, clearing the way. The adrenaline still numbed the pain but when Joel appeared behind her and started to help, Juliet breathed a sigh of relief. 

After a few minutes, they had cleared enough for Ethan to find his way into the room. He scanned the three clickers on the ground and swallowed rough, before meeting Juliet’s eyes. 

“That makes four then,” he said. 

“You killed one?” Juliet gasped out. That must have been why he disappeared. Had Ethan been battling a clicker this entire time? “Ethan, god. Are you okay?” she asked, moving closer to him. His clothes didn’t look torn and the only mark on him was the black, inky blood of the clickers. Juliet let out a heavy sigh of relief when he nodded. 

Then, without warning, he moved forward and pulled Juliet against him. His hand brushed over her hair with such gentleness. Nothing like Joel’s vicious grip. Juliet’s face reddened at the thought. 

She opened her eyes as Ethan rubbed her back in soothing circles. He was trying to comfort her, she assumed. But Juliet wasn’t looking for comfort, she didn’t want soft touches and gentle words. Juliet scanned the room for Joel and found him standing against the entryway, his hand flexing over the handle of his gun. His jaw shifted when he met her eyes. They were still black, still staring at her with a fire blazing in them and when he looked at Ethan’s hands, cradled around her, his stare turned lethal. 

Juliet bit her lip, and watched as Joel’s eyes followed her movement. His hand gripped his gun tighter. 

Ethan pulled away, but continued to rest his hands on her arms. “You’re going to be okay,” he promised her. But Juliet wasn’t listening, her gaze was still focused on the man behind him. The man who would never offer such words of reassurance in this unstable world. Juliet felt remorseful at the thought and made an effort to meet Ethan’s eyes with a small, accepting smile. She didn’t mean to compare them. Ethan was being kind, trying to calm her. 

But he didn’t know that Joel’s touch frightened her more than the clickers ever could. He didn’t know that she could still taste him in her mouth. He didn’t know that Juliet liked that fear. 

He didn’t know that it was the only thing that made her feel alive. 

When Juliet searched for those dark eyes again, they were gone. Joel had turned away, shielding her from the thoughts etched on his face. 

Yet as she looked down, she watched his hand flex at his side, almost as though he was shaking off the feeling of her touch.

_________________________

@amyispxnk @shotgun-shelby @http-paprika

[starfighter10]

tlou2 opinion

So I really had to share my opinion(rant) on the last of us part 2 and boy I have a lot to say. I am gonna dwell deep into this one, so bear with me if you can and want to

 But before that I have to share the feelings I hold for tlou1.Back when I finished tlou1, I knew I experienced something truly magical. I was pleasantly surprised by the beautifully crafted story, the execution of the characters, the music, the gameplay , and the effort that went into shaping the journey of the game,the character arcs and bonds. You could see and experience the uniqueness and passion that went into the first project. This game immediately became a favourite of mine.

When tlou2 was announced, my expectations were skyhigh,was elated to continue Joel and Ellie's journey and how it unfolds. The bar set by the first one was exceptionally high and probably impossible to achieve, but I had trust and faith in naughty dog, thought they couldn't go wrong with this one. After experiencing tlou2 , I am speechless.... not in a good way. I have no words to express my disappointment,frustration and anger I feel right now. I don't even know where to begin.... the absolute mess of a plot, the original characters being blatantly ignored, retconned and disrespected in favour of new bland characters, the plotholes in the story, the false advertising and marketing, naughty dog's hubris, making a complete mockery of your fans who are paying money to play something but getting baited for something else. I am utterly heartbroken and angry.

The plot - the driving force of the game is over ambitious, lazy,sloppy and nihilistic. It felt forced. Naughty dog bit off more then they could chew with this one. Tlou2 could have gone several ways in terms of plot with the existing characters, yet we get the cliche revenge plotline with the character abandoning the quest altogether to realise revenge isn't the answer. This trope has been done several times before, with more finesse and better execution. The writers aim for the " Ellie breaks the cycle of the revenge" but it really fails to achieve this as she blatanly annihilates several characters,npcs along the way in quest of her revenge. The damage has been done practically speaking. According to naughty dog's logic , I should expect Nora's sister or a random npc's friend/relatives in tlou3 hunting down Ellie in their revenge quest. Also Abby's quest literally does nothing for me. This character was so poorly written, executed and shoved down our throats, I didn't have any sort of attachment or empathy for her. I simply don't care about this character.

The circumstances that lead to Joel's death was out of character as well. Since the trailer drop in 2016, I was prepared for his inevitable death. Thought he would probably go out like the badass he is, maybe sacrificing himself for Ellie/tommy. The Joel I know from tlou1, a hardened survivor who has fought tooth and nail to survive the past 20 years would NEVER end up in a situation like that. Joel was intensely alert, critical,clever and intuitive. The argument here may be that he has softened in Jackson, but I feel at this point this should be 2nd nature to him. Something that is automatic. Yet the writer's now want you to believe he is a dumbass who would trust a group of strangers, make small talk and introductions and end up in a situation like that. One of the bigger issues was the constant reinforcing that Joel wiped down the fireflies in cold blood and doomed humanity for death by robbing them of their cure for survival,Ellie believing the cure would have been a guaranteed sure shot success ..... WHY? This retcons the first one completely. The beauty of the tlou1 was it's moral ambiguity and uncertainty. We were constantly hinted that fireflies is a mess of a group whose agendas weren't clearly known, whose actions caused the sacrifice of many people for the sake of a slight possibility of a cure.They were power hungry and were cruel enough to send a 14 year old girl to her death with no remorse,consent or any proper investigation or medical research. Joel initially negotiates to find someone else, gets shut down immediately, gets his means of survival snatched and was practically marched to his death. He had no option but to wipe clean these people who planned on killing someone dear to him, for something that is uncertain or in vain. And yes this was a selfish decision on Joel's part, and that was the beauty of it. The moral ambiguity. He was right or wrong or both - open to your interpretation. BUT NOW NAUGHTY DOG WANTS TO TO ERASE ALL THAT DEVELOPMENT. The active reinforcement that Joel was a cold, ruthless murderer who killed fireflies and deprived humanity of its cure? Trying to erase the fact that he was surviving and trying to keep his dear ones safe in this cold, brutal and unforgiving postapocalyptic world. So that we sympathize with Abby and enjoy golfing the tf outa Joel?. Ellie seems like a different character in this one, but again this character is immediately pushed to a whirlwind of traumatic events right from the start of the game. I missed her spark of joy,humour and enthusiasm. The treatment of the main chatacter in her own game is utterly cruel and disappointing, and seemed unfair to me. By the end, Ellie is broken beyond repair. Though she thematically chooses to be the better person and gives up on her vengeance and hate, she still manages to be on the losing side as she ends up losing her father figure which was her closest bond, loses Dina and the kid , she doesn't have her community, her people, her fucking fingers as well. Why? So Ellie could suffer a little more and be unable to do most important thing that bonded her to Joel. Not to mention she loses her switchblade too, her mother's final memory. Surprised that ND spared her mother's letter . Feel her pain and despair. Why does Ellie get such a shitty,depressing, worthless, futile and a hopeless conclusion while Abby not only gets her revenge successfully, forms a close bond in Lev and gets to escape possibly to a fresh start. Ellie? Nah she gets to suffer alone. Her BIGGEST FEAR has become a reality by the end. The least they could do is let Ellie have some solace and calm, surrounded by her loved ones on that farm,her trying to recover from her trauma slowly but surely, it's what joel would have wished for. But no, she is left all alone, absolutely traumatized, all by herself with nothing to look forward to. Oh and tommy is whole new character in every scene. So keep your eyes peeled for various versions of tommy throughout. The character inconsistencies are ridiculous.

The gameplay, beautiful sceneries, and new characters like dina and jesse are few of the positives of game - leaning more towards Jesse. Dina felt perfect for Ellie and Jesse did manage to lighten up few of the moments. The space shuttle cutscene, the museum flashback sequence, ellie and joel's flashbacks were the only parts that remotely captures the magic and beauty of tlou1. I got emotional watching them. The space shuttle sequence hits you with the feels. Joel slaying a bloater with a machete was cinematic art. (Hot too)

Abby... the forced deuteragonist, is an utter failure of character execution. Her character was forced onto us, felt hasty and lacked real build up. She starts off on the wrong foot by killing one of the most popular characters. If ND really wanted this character to work, the only possible way would have been to play her point of view and backstory prior to her mercilessly killing and torturing a guy who just saved her life. What was ND thinking? That a few hours of her pov,forced out of the blue background story, her getting to play with dogs while ellie has no option but to attack the dogs, the abby-lev bond which is pretty much discount or the walmart version ellie and joel would be enough to side with her over ellie and joel???? The part where they force you to play as abby against ellie? It made me sick. I felt cheated and disgusted.

The false advertising to make us believe joel is alive and good? That this is an ellie and joel centric game?To tug at your heartstrings like this. A complete mockery of the fans who waited 7 years to see their favorite characters get horribly treated,retconned, disrespected and thrown under the bus in favour of new unlikable characters. Butchering the heart and soul of the last of us - Joel and Ellie's bond. The fact that these two don't even get a heart to heart before his death, that Joel dies uncertain of ellie's future, maybe thought he could not save Ellie in those final painful moments, that she had never forgiven him, Ellie never getting her closure with Joel, or really getting to tell him how much he meant to her.... all these thoughts legit made me shed tears. Broke my heart. This is how much ND wanted to honour and respect ellie and joel.

The game's conclusion is hollow, futile, worthless and depressing. And in my opinion, this is non canon. This is the only way I can cope with this unsastifying conclusion. It is immaturity I guess... but I will feel better about it.

Though I utterly despise tlou2, tlou1 will continue to remain one of my favorite pieces of work in fiction. JOEL FUCKING MILLER WILL ALWAYS BE THE BADDEST BITCH AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THE LOVE I HAVE FOR HIM.

If someone actually read it all the way, thank you for your time and effort. Really needed to rant and let these negative emotions out.

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Masterlist

Joel Miller X F! Reader. Angst, slow burn, eventual smut. Reader is neutral description wise except for being a woman.

Please note that this is set within the universe of The Last Of Us and as such there will be gore, blood and some graphic descriptions of violence. There may also be spoilers for the games/series and these will be indicated on individual chapters.

This is set between games one and two and is inspired by a comment Joel makes about coffee at the end of the second game.

Summary: You're all survivors in this fucked up world, but after your one and only friend dies can you bring yourself to ever rely on anyone else?

Or

How you come to live in Jackson and fall into a complicated relationship with Joel Miller.

"You lost?"

That voice. That same low, languid, gravelly husk that you had heard the previous night, now with an edge of a challenge to it breaks into your thoughts and demands your undivided attention.

You whirl around again, look back in the direction of where you have just been walking and see him – tall, imposing and as broad as ever. Ruggedly Handsome is exiting the front yard of one of the houses, looking down at the cuffs of his coat and adjusting them, as if he has just put the garment on. The gesture itself is casual but you can see the coiled tension in his shoulders. If he doesn't like your answer, you can expect to be challenged on who you are and why you're here.

“Not lost. Just new,” you reply after gathering your composure.

Chapter One - The Do Or Die

Chapter Two - Stuck Between

Chapter Three - Glass And Petrol

Chapter Four - Breathe

Chapter Five - Asphyxiated

Chapter Six - Against The Grain

Chapter Seven - Vanish Like A Lipstick Trace

Chapter Eight - Hold On

Chapter Nine - The Tallest Height

Chapter Ten - Every Cloud

Chapter Eleven - Dreams Of Yesterday

Chapter Twelve - Dull The Pain

Chapter Thirteen - Feel

Chapter Fourteen - Every Sky Is Blue...

Chapter Fifteen - ...But Not For Me And You

Chapter Sixteen - Try And Try

Chapter Seventeen - Like Breathing Methane

Chapter Eighteen - Want

Chapter Nineteen - Goes

Chapter Twenty - Scene

Chapter Twenty One - And Still

Chapter Twenty Two - The Happening

Chapter Twenty Three - Hard

Chapter Twenty Four - Blows Me Away

Chapter Twenty Five - coming soon

Come Home taglist - @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu @sanscas @myloveistoolittle @ohthemisssery @harperdoodle @hummelmi @casssiopeia @midgetpottermills @rivierasunsetdiner @starkleila @nunya7394 @mumma-moonchild @thereaperisabitch

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Ecstasy (Favored Ones, Part 14.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Part summary: Sometimes, there are no words needed when someone really means it with you. When they love you, they don’t have to say a word, but a single action is all it takes to make you sure about that.

A/N: The chapter is happening at the same night when Dina kissed Ellie, at the same dance, in the same hall and in front of the same people... AND SETH IS BEING A FUCKING CUNT. Enjoy the last chapter before the storm comes to Jackson... And if you think that everyone’s cool about the relationship... Just wait on the Reverse card we’ll pull over the time.

Word count: 5.3 K

Tagging:  Tagging:  @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme​​ @peakymarvels​​ @davnwillcome​ @pickleriiick​ @jodiereedus22​ @gladiosamicitias​ @tamkashi​ @eternallyvenus​ @avengerssstuff​ @fangirl-inthe-us​ @avery-miller​ @mikah-writes​ @mad-hatter-98​ @sadiaafrin99​ @flavorishy

Series master list: H E R E (Inspired by Bon Iver’s & St. Vincent’s Rosyln and Ecstasy by the Crooked Still)

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

The spring of 2038, one night before the incident:

The talk about patrols was too long for you to care about. And since there was a dance that day, you rather chose to go there with Ellie way sooner than going to the boring meeting where you'd listen to Tommy, Joel, and Jessie laying into each other the whole fucking evening.

You, both you and Ellie, had been drinking, sometimes dancing with the smaller kids for good laughs. Dina, freshly broken up with Jesse, was there too, dancing all over the place. The two of you, you and Ellie, were just at the bar to have some good bourbon and beer, looking into the crowd. - "How’re things lately? Haven't spoken to you in a while."

That was right. Ever since your thing with Joel started, you've been distancing from your friends. Not because you'd want any piece in his and Ellie’s shared drama or because you didn't like to hang out with the group anymore, you were just... Too busy to hang out with them lately. Mostly because you spent all the free nights in his bed and other times, you were on patrols. So yeah, Ellie and you didn't talk for a while. Truth be told, you missed your best friend very much. But you couldn't tell her a single about you and Joel... Spending time together, so it wasn’t easiest to look her in the eyes either.

Also, there was this whole situation about the winter - it was already March and it still was snowing, there were blizards and huge snow storms almost every week. So, everyone was doing their best to supply the city - whether it centered around taking care of the animals or taking extra patrols. This situation was on ever since February. 

"Busy. All I can say is that things are busy now. How ’bout you and Dina? Any new developments in the current situation?" - You smiled slyly, giving Ellie one of your encouraging looks, having the green-eyed girl smiling and blushing all of the sudden. As it was usually when she got nervous, the tip of her boot was tapping the wooden dancefloor as she thought about what she wanted to say.

You had Jessie and Dina’s newest break-up on your mind. Everyone knew that this couple is pretty fiery, arguing and breaking up the whole time just to be together the following week again. But when you saw Jessie in the dining room and talked to him briefly, this one was feeling different than the other ones. You didn't know how serious relationships work, yet he was uncomfortable when you asked about her.

"I think it's just one of their motherfucking pauses again. My bet is two weeks before they get back together and I’ll go fuck myself again." - Ellie hissed while watching Dina jumping around in Daniel’s arms, laughing all over the hall.

"You're doing it again and it's making me fucking pissed." - You muttered out, putting the empty glass on the bar, asking for a bottle of beer. - "Thinking about yourself as of a third wheel or shit. You're not a third wheel Ellie and to me, you'll never be one." - You sighed, leaning your head into her shoulder while closing your eyes.

"I missed you telling me this sort of stuff, baby." - She sighed with a soft smile, leaning her cheek to the back of her head. Yeah. You missed them too. With Joel, you weren't that crazy and loud girl who would curse in every sentence - it wasn't that he didn't like that, you just felt calmer when he was around. But you needed to be that person from time to time. - "I missed telling you this sort of stuff, hun."

At that, you saw Jesse finally entering the building. You just knew from Jesse’s look that Joel was telling him something again, there wasn't a word that Jesse has to say for both of you to know that. This time, he seemed more pissed than usual, but that could be caused by his break-up, so you didn't immediately jump to the conclusion to talk with Joel about it.

"Uh, ever told you that you're hot when you're pissed?" - You asked, having Ellie whistle for you. Jesse chuckled sourly at that poor compliment, telling you that you should go fuck yourself without using words.

"You're not too cool to spend time with your friends now, huh?" - He grinned back, making a point. After you scoffed ironically, you gave him a look.

"I was always way cooler than you'll ever be, young man. Now excuse me, I will be talking to the adults for a while, letting you guys play with your mud pies." - Was the last thing you told Jesse before patting his back with an honest smile, already nodding at Maria. It was obvious, at least to you, that you just wanted to take a look at Joel when you'll be walking to cool auntie in the corner of the room. And to be honest, the man was leaning his elbows to a table while talking to another man from Jackson, checking your location almost every twenty to thirty seconds.

And when you finally were patting Jesse’s back after winning your little pissing contest, he suddenly shifted to sit more straight, taking in what you had on. The shirt he loved, the jeans which made your ass irresistible to not to stare at, and a pair of the same cowboy shoes that Dina girl had. You once got them in one shoe shop during scavenging for supplies in a nearby city. And ever since, these were your go-to shoes for a dance.

Joel wasn't looking too bad himself either, you had to say. His hair was still way too long, his beard was messy, but boy-oh-boy, that khaki brown leather jacket screamed danger all the way around. And of course, there was this well-known blue shirt you wore a million times during the nights you spent at his place. It was nice of him to remember such small details.

If you weren't smiling practically all the time, it would be obvious that there are some sparks in the air when you walked around the table. You sent him a nod first, raising the bottle of beer you've been holding in your palm.

"Mr. Miller." - You smiled and winked at him before the other man even noticed.

"Miss Y/L/N." - Joel nodded back with a serious face, taking off the imaginary hat to tip you. That made you chuckle when you continued on your way to Maria.

There were two persons Joel wanted to talk to about you and what on Earth should he do with himself. The two people being Ellie and Tommy, his choice was fairly obvious. Tommy wasn't the best source of information either, yet it was better than nothing. All Joel had told him was that he was seeing a woman from Jackson that caught his eye - that they're spending some time together and that she recently told him he had some feeling for him, and not knowing what to do, he came to talk to his younger brother.

Tommy, who was genuinely surprised by this piece of information being finally confirmed, widened his eyes at that. Joel wanted a piece of dating advice from someone? Did he have some heart inside the survivor’s chest? First of all, Tommy didn't spare a moment to tell Joel she must be crazy to want to be with him, laughing at these words. The other thing he told his older brother was that if he wants to show her that he is sure about caring for the woman, wanting to be with her, he would not have a better chance than to ask her for a dance in front of everyone.

A slow one, of course. And that was what Joel was planning to do, just waiting for the right song to play. And that was why Tommy and Maria were excitedly watching Joel the whole evening. So far, nothing had happened. They placed their bets on Bobby, mom of your dead friend Harry, and Sandra, a woman who was working with horses.

"You guys seem to be super-excited about something tonight. Should I be worried?" - You furrowed at the couple, having a nervous laugh at the end. Tommy dismissed it with shaking his head, still having his brother at the corner of his eye, not knowing that not even five minutes from that moment, Joel will ask you for a dance.

"Don’t be worried, honey. It's about this little bet, nothing to worry about." - Maria chuckled, leading the conversation while Tommy was spying on Joel. - "You're looking good tonight. Trying to impress someone?"

"Of course, I was dressing up for you the whole evening, wondering what you'll tell me about these beautiful shoes." - You tipped your leg at that, showing her the shoes she had seen at least a million times before.

"She's lying, she’s trying to impress me because we've been secretly dating for a while now." - Tommy chimed in, kissing Maria on her cheek. Tommy and his sense of humor... That was something you had to get a hang on before you knew what should offend you and when he's just ducking around with you. This was the other case of the spectrum. But if you'd told him that you're sleeping with Joel, he’d go nuts or dismiss it as a dumb joke - there was no other ending to this statement. But you just gave him one of your looks. - "But even tho I saw these shoes a million times, they make me always go wild."

"Keep on dreaming, old guy, I'm all about Maria these days. How you're doing? Haven't talked to you in a while?" - You asked, starting a chit-chat with Maria only. Tommy usually didn't talk about the girly stuff, as he called it, he was all about jokes and when you were sad, he was the man to give you an emotional support speech. That was why you liked these two so much. While Maria was someone who could kick ass, Tommy was mostly the goofy guy everyone liked to hang out with. When the first and probably the last song of the night started playing, both of them suddenly snapped, looking around like crazy.

"You see him somewhere?" - Tommy whispered to Maria, having her shaking her head. The man with the bun suddenly shut up and watched his brother walking to their group with that cold-facade look on his face, although it was obvious that he's only trying his best to stay calm. Was Joel into Maria? Oh, if he was, Tommy would kick his damn ass for having the audacity to ask him for a piece of advice.

Yet at that moment, Maria noticed Joel's looking at someone in front of the couple. At their back, to be specific. He was looking at the back of the confused girl who was standing in front of them and had a chit-chat with them. Well, that was wild. Wild if you'd ask her.

"Y/N, would you maybe care for a dance?" - Joel mumbled when he finally stopped in front of your back. Both of the people you've been facing could notice that you stiffened suddenly, not knowing what to think. Your mouth opened up, eyes widened and you even had that small wrinkle between your eyebrows. Slowly, you turned at Joel, looking at the couples chiming onto the dancefloor. He had never danced to a slow song with anyone, even if it was a woman’s choice. Nobody made him.

"Joel, what are you after? What do you mean? Here? Now? In front of everyone? Are you crazy?" - You mumbled out, looking at the old man taking your bottle of beer, giving it to Tommy as he took your palm, leading you between all of the people without answering you. When first people started to notice both you walking around the tables, you heard first whispers and the weight of the words looks was making you feel very much unsafe.

You were walking behind Joel, yet the man felt your palm getting seriously sweaty with each passing second. The air was too hot for you to breathe as your cheeks were on fire as well, everyone suddenly knew your darkest secret. Maybe not the darkest, but the biggest. It was out just like that. Tears were making your eyes watery and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't see Joel.

"I mean what I've said. All I want is a dance." - The man answered once you've walked to the middle of the dancefloor. You've been wonderstruck and fucking afraid. There was the same void in your head as in the moment you accidentally slipped the tea about your emotions. For a while, Joel was worried that he maybe took the things too far.

Everyone could see you and bet your ass people have been watching you with shock.

Someone like you, a young girl, was expected to marry a young man, to have kids and family, and to continue the cycle life was. And even though, you and Joel were there, looking at each other, showing everyone that there something fishy going on. Tommy couldn't speak for at least a minute and Maria’s mouth slowly widened into a smile. Even Jesse stopped for a while when he realized what he's looking at.

Nervously, you stepped away to keep the social distance between you and him. It didn't mean much since as soon as Joel had the chance, his arm circled your waist pulling you so close that your body copied his. At that moment, when you were sure he can't see you, you smiled and bit your lower lip. If you wanted some kind of statement as a follow-up to the situation occurring inside his bedroom, this was it. There wasn't anything much more to do tell the others that you and Joel are a fucking thing. It wasn't exactly I love you, but it was stating that you belong to the man in some way or another.

"The rumors will be... Oh, God." - You mumbled to his ear, finally circling his shoulder with his arm to be sure he won't let go just like that. After that, you leaned your temple there, feeling safe. People were looking. They were. And why the fuck should you care?

"I'm kinda good at gettin’ a hang of these, baby girl." - Joel answered the comment, having you raise your head with a beaming smile. So, now it was kinda official, you guessed. He was your man just as much as you were his girl.

When you looked him in the eyes, you both got serious, quite staring at each other before leaning in to share a kiss. It wasn't just that peck on the lips, it was full-blown kiss where you tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging it to keep him close for a while. It was the one where you stopped even dancing so you could feel the other one. And Joel tugging you even closer by putting a hand on your waist? That was even better.

When it ended, there was a smile on your face and your cheeks were on fucking fire. - "People will tell me that I'll go to hell for this." - You whispered, putting your face into the crook of his neck while moving along with the flow of the song. Your arms were circled his shoulders to keep him close. At the remark about hell, Joel chuckled dryly.

"I'll see you there, then." - The man whispered, gently kissing your temple before exhaling out loud. It was a long time when he danced with someone. It was almost two years when he last time danced with Ellie for fun - it was before the outbreak the last time he danced someone because he felt something for them. Maybe it was when Sara’s mom was still alive... But it was completing something inside Joel. He was a lonely soul that would beg just to be loved by someone like you.

Fucking? That was great. But to be honest, since night one, Joel was sure that this won't take too long before you get bored with him. Instead of getting bored with Joel, you accidentally told him that you're in love and that you were in love for a long time. Which made him feel... Necessary in someone's life. That was a thing Joel needed - whether it was the girl he adopted or her friend who made an old fool in love out of the roughest survivor in Jackson.

And it seemed that you completely got the message even if you didn't hear the words he was trying to say. And of course, as all of Joel's happy moments, something had to fuck up just right after everything got good for a second. You saw someone stepping into the crowd, so first, you let Joel abruptly go, feeling the panic inside raising as you waited for the punishment.

But to your surprise, it was Seth stepping to Dina and Ellie, telling them something. It was hard to make out what is happening there, but before you could stop Joel, he was already walking there. You tried to catch his forearm and stop him... But even though you two were together, you couldn't stop him from taking care of his daughter.

"Oh, just what this town needs." - Seth told Dina’s back when the girls were leaving. It looked that if you'll be lucky, Joel won't even insert himself in there. The old jackass was drunk as well. If you hated someone in Jackson with passion, it was that wrinkly ballsack. Seth and you never had a personal problem with each other, yet there were moments when Ellie and he did; so naturally, you took Ellie’s side in this. - "Another loud-mouthed dike."

And with those words, you closed your eyes and sighed, seeing Joel speeding up in from the place you were standing at. Right. As if one scandal for the night wasn't fucking enough.

"What the fuck did you just say?" - Ellie turned at her heels, pointing her finger at Seth. The expression in her face was blatantly obvious - all Seth ad to do was saying another wrong word and she would just fuck him up like that. Dina was holding her away from Seth, yet at that moment, the cavalry arrived. Joel pushed Seth back, looking him in the face. The atmosphere had tensed as the music stopped playing completely - the silence in the room was the loudest thing you've ever heard.

People were watching all five of you - you were nervously staying away from the men, not knowing what the fuck should you do, Joel was about to kick Seth's ass just like that and Dina and Ellie were watching what was happening.

"Get the hell outta here." - Joel warned the old ballsack in a quiet voice, expressing all the curse words he didn't tell Seth out loud. The ballsack walked right up to Joel, it was a wonder he didn't spit in his face, straightening himself. This was getting real bad real fast. - "Get your hands off me!" - Seth gritted through his teeth. Yeah, it was time for you to go there. Maria and Tommy had the same idea.

Your heart stopped at the moment as you quickly ran behind your old man, circling his shoulder with your arm. Maria stepped between the two men, Tommy having her back from the other side. Ellie was too angry to notice that you're trying to pull Joel away, and not because you didn't want him to fuck Seth up, but because you were worried for Joel.

"Hey! Enough! Come on, you. Let’s go for a walk." - She tugged Seth away with Tommy, nodding at you to drag away Joel. You nodded back, trying to catch the man’s attention - but when Joel was in his protect Ellie mode, nothing could make him calm down. Both Maria and Tommy talked with Seth, taking him away and at that moment, Joel’s attention shifted to Ellie to check if she and Dina are okay. You were just standing there, being completely ignored by the man.

"You alright, kiddo?" - He asked silently, being extremely vulnerable at that moment. Again, you were watching how the situation will go, letting him and Ellie talk. You hoped for the best, which would be, in the ideal scenario, them not fighting in front of all these people. Ellie’s expression immediately told you that it's not the case.

"What is wrong with you?" - She asked boldly, furrowing at the old man.

"He had no right," - "And you do? I don't need your fucking help, Joel." - Oh, she hit the sweet spot at that exact second. The sweet spot of him being someone who will always help her, accept for who she was, to be her guardian and father until the end of his days. You could tell how was he feeling just by the way his shoulders had dropped. She hurt him - all Joel wanted was to see her being alright, but she could be so fucking stubborn. Usually, you loved that about your best friend, but you were torn at the moment.

While she was your best friend who was with you in the best and the worst, Joel was someone... You loved. And even if you'd like to stay there with Ellie at the moment, this time, you had to reevaluate your priorities on Joel. - "Right." - Was the only thing Joel muttered out before he left the room as well. While he was walking away, you stood there for a second, looking at Ellie with your eyebrows knitted, expression full of sadness.

Her look fell on you almost immediately. It took a while when you looked at each other and in the end, it had Ellie rather confused. She has never seen you so uncomfortable after some scandal happened. You two usually laughed and mocked the shit out of Seth together - but this time, your eyes were full of worries, your mouth was slightly opened and you were fidgeting your fingers at a fast pace. In the end, you shook your head and followed Joel outside.

"Hey! Stop, please!" - You screamed after him, fastening up, having people turn after you. The only thing Joel did was that he looked over his shoulder at you. - "Come on, Joel." - You begged, finally catching the hem of his sleeve in your palm. When you pulled it, he finally stopped. His breath was shallow, his eyes were looking everywhere except you.

"Hey, hey, hey." - You whispered, circling your hands around his jaws, making him look at you. A small smile appeared on your lips. As the adrenaline rush fell out of your body, the usually nicely warm march night felt cold. - "Hi there, big guy."

"I'm not in a mood for this now, okay?" - Joel put your hands off your face, giving a cold look to everyone who was just staring at the two of you.

"Mood for a talk? Joel... You shouldn't insert yourself into that." - You whispered, following him once he decided to continue his way home. Instead of answering you, he just inhaled, closing his eyes for a second. And even if he was mad like crazy, when he saw you trembling, he circled his jacket around your shoulders.

"I had to stand behind Ellie. I don’t expect you to understand." - He turned at the end of the street, walking forward, not caring if you're still following or not.

"She’s adult just as I am. She doesn't need your help when something goes down. She’s not fourteen anymore." - You answered Joel. When he stopped, you thought it’s good - his eyes were as dark as the night and even his finger was pointed at you in the next second. He was mad. And not only at Seth and Ellie, now you were on the list as well.

"You’ve never had a kid, you never lost them and you don't know how it's like to be worried that you'll lose them. I will protect the girl until the day I die, you understand that?" - Joel gritted through his teeth. Well, the first couple-fight was there. Yet Joel forgot that you can be a stubborn asshole as well.

"I never lost a child, Miller, but my parents were both bitten and shot. I was fucking seven and I have seen every single second of the execution before Marlene pulled me away. And now, when I open up to someone because I like them, there's this fear I have every single moment I'm awake. I’m worried about losing them. You think you're such a know-it-all, Joel, don't you? But guess what. You should shut up sometimes and listen to the others when they speak. Ellie doesn't want your help so just accept it already. Stop living in the past, will you?" - You mumbled and then walked to his house, having the man behind you the whole time.  

His house became your home some time ago. You had a portion of your stuff there since you started sleeping with Joel, sometimes you just picked up some clothes or hygiene in there, but the time you spent there alone was dull and lonely. So it was kinda natural that you wanted to go to Joel’s house when you were mad and wanted to feel safe.

You knew that Joel won't follow you to the bed, so you threw his jacket on the couch, running the stairs to lock yourself in the bathroom. You couldn't know that while you were there, Ellie and Joel were having a conversation on the terrace. Ellie talked about the incident in the diner, about Seth and Dina, suddenly changing the topic to what happened in Salt Lake.

"I just..." - Ellie whispered, putting her palms to fists, being torn apart on the inside. - "I don't think I can ever forgive you for that." - She looked at the profile of his face, watching Joel play around with the mug of coffee. When she said that, it was visible that Joel was panicking, feeling hurt - his breath shallowed again, his eyes started to wander around and at one moment, he stood up just to lean back into the railing. He nodded almost invisibly.

"But... I would like to try." - Ellie told him, holding the railing in her palms. Her voice was shaking. This girl wasn't the one to cry, but she wasn't too far from sobbing at that moment. Thit was highly uncomfortable, but it was crushing her not to have Joel but the ber side. Even if Joel didn't look at her directly, it could be felt in the shifting tone that he's feeling safer with each passing second.

"I'd love that." - Joel answered honestly. He would hug her or look at you, but he was having tears in his eyes, so he rather leaned into the railing and smiled into the mug. Ellie waited there for a second, nodding to herself. This was something that could save their relationship.

"Okay... Okay... So... You and Y/N? Is she here?" - She asked, looking into the pitch darkness inside the house. How could something like you starting a relationship with Joel could slip past her? How? Joel didn't answer, but his smug widened a bit as he chuckled. Ellie was chuckling too, holding the railing in her had, rocking herself on her heels. - "She is. Already sleepin’, probably."

"Be nice to her and take care of her for me, will you? Or I’ll fucking kick your motherfucking ass, old man. She's an amazing girl, one of the best I've ever met." - Ellie smiled, making a few small steps off the terrace. Joel finally looked at his baby girl, his eyes telling everything his words didn't. - "So, I'll see you around, I guess."

Joel was on the terrace for quite a long time. He was sitting there, playing with his guitar. He was happy, so fucking happy. He and Ellie made a truce, which meant that these two maybe will have a future. Yet you were still pissed with him. He fucked up. He indeed fucked up. Joel should know better than talking to you when he was pissed, telling you such things.

Around three in the morning, he finally stood up and went to the bedroom, seeing you sleep on your side of the bed, being all curled up to a small ball under the blanket. Joel took off the jacket, climbing on the mattress after you, finding your hip somewhere under the blanket, pulling closer to your back.

"Ugh, I'm mad at you, let me sleep." - You mumbled a bit angrily, trying to take his palm off of you. But he didn't give up after that, gently kissing the back of your neck. smoothing your lower back. - "Hey, I told you to leave me be. What are you after?" - You turned your face to look at him, obviously being still half-asleep. Joel just smiled, kissing your shoulder dressed in a t-shirt.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry." - The man whispered, putting his palm on your outer thigh, drawing small circles there, kissing your shoulder again when he ended the sentence. - "That you were right." - Joel continued and did the same thing again. - "That I had no idea about what happened with your family. And that I was acting like a fucking asshole. Again." - After that, he left his nose inside the fabric of your t-shirt, watching your face with these dark eyes of his.

There was a small moment of silence when he was just rubbing your thigh to relax you a bit. When you were done with thinking, you shook your head, turning your head away from him. - "This could so wait until the morning, Miller." - You mumbled, putting your head on the pillow under you, now at least holding his palm on your thigh. The apology seemed to be accepted. So it was time for Joel to continue to encourage your patience with him.

"I don't think it would wait until the morning." - The man whispered, gently biting the top of your shoulder while his hand gently palmed your ass, skillfully slipping under your shorts.

It was three in the fucking morning and this man just wanted to apologize in the best way he could. Yet for you, it was three in the morning and all you wanted to do was to fucking sleep.

"Joel, this can wait, come on." - You tried to wiggle out, yet he was quicker and disappeared under the blanket in the next moment. And his arguments in form of gentle kissed on both your inner thighs and his palms gently tugging the t-shirt above your boobs were making you convinced that you want it too actually and that it really couldn't wait until the morning.

To see the man between your legs, you pulled the blanket off of him, raising yourself on your elbows. Having you cooperate in such a way made Joel chuckle with small devilish shining in his eyes. Without another word, you let Joel take off the shorts while rising your ass into the air.

As soon as he dived in, you had to say that he was utterly right. This couldn't wait until the morning.

[punkrockmads]

Unspoken Words

Overview/ Creation Process

READ THIS BEFORE READING STORY

So, this is something I never thought I'd be doing but someone very dear to me helped me make this a possiblity.

Sarah Miller doesn't get enough love in this fandom and my goal is to change that. How? By creating her character in a slightly revamped way and giving her an alternative universe where she is a survivor alongside Joel and Ellie! Sarah's appearance will be based on myself as well as a few details that may come up in the story. The fabrication of the first and second games may be slightly changed but, trust me, it'll all tie together.

Basic Information

Height: 5"4

Weight: 108 Lbs

Age: 16 (same as Ellie)

Birthday: October 9th

Hair color: ash blonde

Eye color: pale blue

Complexion: fair/pale, freckles on bridge of nose and cheekbones

Structure: small with toned build

Agile and stealthy

Casual clothing: jeans, plain top, one of Joel's flannels, black steel- toed boots

Weapons: 9mm pistol, bow, switchblade

Sentimental item: small stuffed lamb from "deceased" father

Likes/Favorites

Color: lilac

Song: The Pretender, Foo Fighters

Clothing item: Joel's flannel

Personal item: Stuffed lamb (Gus)

Best friend: Ellie Williams

Friends: Dina, Jesse

Book: Dandelion; Memoir of a Free Spirit, Catherine James

Word: "Shit"

Physical feature: eyes

Pass time: writing, archery

Weapon: bow

Place: woods

Food: mangos

Movie: Cars

Action: fist bumps

Animal: giraffe

Dislikes/Least Favorites

Color: bright orange

Song: Welcome to the Jungle

Clothing item: thongs (they're so gross to even look at)

Person: Seth

Book: A Wrinkle in Time

Word: panties

Physical feature: face, arms

Action: killing people

Weapon: shotgun

Place: sewers

Food: dates

Movie: Monster House

Fear: abandonment, weakness

Sarah's Beginnings

Sarah was born around the same time as Ellie

Was conceived after what started off as a fling with Joel and an unnamed woman some years after the start of the apocalypse

Joel agreed to take care of Sarah on his own after her mother passed away while giving birth

Joel doesn't tell Sarah he's her father because he's afraid of getting close to her only to lose her like he lost her mother

He tells Sarah both her parents are dead

Joel sees both Ellie and Sarah as his daughters

Sarah's Tie to the Story and Her Injury

Joel raises Sarah and she pretty much never leaves his side

Sarah went with Joel and Ellie to find the Fireflies

Got shot in the stomach while the three of them were escaping St. Mary's Hospital but didn't stop running till they successfully escaped

Bullet lodged near the surface and almost hit her aorta

Bullet is removed when the three return to Jackson and Sarah has a small scar where she was shot

She has occasional night terrors about being shot and places her hand over the scar when she's anxious

Sarah (Common Outfit)