#Maria/Flare-Up
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Wingman
Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader
Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.
Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.
Word count: 1.7k
You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.
Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.
“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”
Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.
Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.
Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.
“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”
“Pads!”
“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”
The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.
“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.
“Boneless or traditional?”
And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.
Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.
“Sorry.”
Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,
“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”
And he was off.
Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.
There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.
That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:
“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”
And you’d looked back in abject horror.
Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.
Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.
You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.
6:29
“Dude, where are you?!”
It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.
“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.
“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”
“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”
“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”
In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.
“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.
You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.
“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”
Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.
It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.
His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.
Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.
“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”
You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.
Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.
You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.
Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.
“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”
You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.
“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.
Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.
Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.
Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.
Wait.
Wait.
“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.
You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.
But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…
“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.
“What?” you shot back, instantly.
A frown tugged at his lips.
“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”
Not…exactly, no.
More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.
You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:
“Wings!”
An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.
You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.
You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.
The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.
But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.
Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.
The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.
You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—
Whistling.
Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.
You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.
It didn’t matter.
Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.
Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.
“I got three boxes to be safe…”
Joel was really too sweet.
“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”
Always so considerate.
“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”
This motherfucker.
#THINKING ABOUT……..….....….BIG DUMB IDIOT MEN AND OPEN-MOUTHED KISSING 💔💔#AND A LITTLE BIT OF CHICKEN FRIED#COLD BEER ON A FRIDAY NIGHT#A PAIR OF JEANS THAT FIT JUST RIGHT#AND THE RADIO UUUUUUUUP 😫#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller tlou#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic
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somewhere to run | 2. book club
Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: An incident at the diner causes you to get shaken up, and Joel is there to help.
Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, mutual pining, PTSD type symptoms, flirting, jealousy, attempted robbery, reader gets mildly injured
WC: 6K
Series Masterlist
"So you see why it's so important you keep on top of your oil changes, yeah?" Mr. Connor finished saying as you set down his plate of waffles and sausage. You nodded enthusiastically while you filled up his coffee.
"I was never really any good at car stuff," you admitted, but he shook his head.
"If you take care of it, that car'll last you five more years and save you boatloads of money," he told you, wagging his finger. "You come by my shop any time and I'll take a look at that beater you're drivin', won't rip you off, either."
You laughed as you heard the bells above the door ring and Maria greet the next customer.
"I'll hold you to it," you said with a wink before turning to put the coffee back on the burner.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the familiar outline of a man settle into Joel's usual seat at the counter, and you felt the butterflies stir up in your stomach. You glanced up to make sure there wasn't any food getting cold in the window before pulling out your notepad and walking over. As you approached, you mentally braced yourself for the onslaught of his cologne, but as you got closer, you couldn't smell it. In fact, all you could smell was soap and maybe a faint hint of oil from his gun.
When you paused in front of him, the realization dawning on you, he glanced up from the menu with a smirk. A slow smile spread across your face when you looked him in the eye.
"Better?" was all he said, and you couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your lips.
"You didn't have to do that for me," you said, suddenly feeling bashful and looking down at your blank notepad.
"I know, but I wanted to," he said, leaning back and closing the menu. He didn't even know why he looked at it anymore, he knew it by heart already. "Thought maybe it'd make you stick around long enough for me to get to know you better."
You definitely felt your cheeks flare at that comment, and it must have been visible because Joel just grinned, clearly very pleased with himself.
"Where are you from?" he asked, determined to try to make some more progress with you today.
"Pennsylvania," you said, finally looking back up at him with a smile as you tapped your pen on the pad.
"Northerner," he said with feigned disgust. "And what brought you all the way to Texas?"
"The incredible job opportunity, isn't it obvious?" you said, and he laughed. A real laugh, one you hadn't heard before, and it did something to you. Uh oh.
"You're funny," Joel said, almost as if he were saying it to himself. You grinned and decided to steer the conversation in a different direction: away from you.
"What about you? Have you lived here your whole life?"
"Born and raised," Joel said with a nod. "Our pop used to be the town sheriff, before he passed 'bout ten years back or so."
"So, you followed in your father's footsteps?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Suppose I did," he told you, leaning forward. "But can I tell you a secret?"
You hummed and leaned forward as well, trying to bite back your smirk.
"Kinda wishin' now I was the one who bought this place instead of my brother," he said quietly and so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.
Still leaning in, you dropped your voice to match his and said "then who would stop those teenagers from drawing phallic images on street signs?"
He laughed again, the same deep, throaty laugh as before, and you felt your stomach clench at the sound.
"You heard that, huh?" he asked, smiling and leaning back. You shrugged.
"Lee isn't as quiet as he thinks," you told him. You wanted to say you had to learn early on to eavesdrop, that listening and anticipating danger became second nature to you, but you caught yourself.
"Howdy, brother," you heard Tommy's voice boom from somewhere behind you. You took the opportunity to sneak away and check on your other customers while they talked, but you made sure to set Joel up with coffee before heading towards the other end of the counter, his eyes trailing after you and staring a moment too long on your bare legs.
"You givin' her the business?" Tommy asked, nodding in your direction, and Joel nearly choked on his coffee. Tommy raised his eyebrows.
"She's, uh... she's a nice girl," Joel finally managed to get out after wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"He's got the hots for her," Betty whispered to Tommy as she ambled by. Joel cleared his throat loudly and gave her a stern look, but she just laughed and kept walking.
"Oh, Joel, I'm beggin' you, don't screw this up for me. She's a real good waitress, I don't wanna lose her - "
"Would you keep it down?" Joel whispered, his eyes darting around to make sure you weren't within earshot. "I ain't gonna screw anythin' up for anyone, don't worry. She's just... nice."
"'Nice'," Tommy repeated, clearly not buying it. He was about to say more, but Joel straightened up in his seat and averted his gaze, trying to wordlessly warn him you were heading over.
"Sorry to interrupt. Are you ready, Joel?" you asked him, your pen and paper in hand. He looked up at you and it was hard to fight the goofy look on his face now that you didn't regard him with such disdain.
"Yeah, sure. Let's put this guy to work, huh?" Joel said, pointing to Tommy, and you giggled. Behind you, Tommy rolled his eyes. Nice.
Joel told himself he was only allowed to think about you on his walk back to the station after lunch. You had told Betty you weren't interested in dating anybody at the moment, but he could wait. He wondered if he could change your mind, if he could make you come around to the idea of being with him, or at least give him a chance. You definitely seemed much warmer towards him today. He must have been wrong yesterday, you really must be sensitive to smells if all it took was for him to stop using that obnoxious cologne Sarah got him that he felt too guilty to throw away.
"Hey boss, how was lunch?" asked Bobby, the town's deputy and Joel's right hand man.
"Good. Anythin' goin' on here?" Joel asked, shrugging off his blazer and hanging it on the coat rack outside his office.
"Not much. I was 'bout to let Ollie outta the drunk tank. His wife was callin', askin' after him," Bobby said before rising to his feet with a groan. Although the man was ten years younger than Joel, his joints seemed to be ten years older.
Joel glanced at the time on his watch with a nod.
"Yeah, go ahead. Third time this month, though. Next time it happens, I'm keepin' him longer."
"Alrighty," Bobby said over his shoulder as he pulled the keys from his pocket and headed back towards lockup.
Joel sighed and began flipping through the papers littering his desk before giving up and leaning back in his chair to stare out the front window, watching people as they walked past. Before he could stop himself, his mind had already wandered back to thoughts of you, and it took him five whole minutes and Ollie's hungover ramblings to snap him out of it.
Maybe Sarah would want to get pizza for dinner.
It was nearly seven at night as you made your way back home from work, your feet aching and your head throbbing. At the very least, it was a cool, summer night. The breeze was enjoyable and the sun was still peeking out just enough to keep your skin pleasantly warm. All you could think about was getting home and running a bath to soak your sore muscles. It had been a long time since you held a job, let alone a job that kept you as active as this one.
Patrick didn't like the idea of you working. When he first suggested you quit your job and stay at home, you thought it was sweet. You took it to mean he wanted to provide for you so you could relax and be a homemaker, maybe even a mom one day. But after a few months, you quickly realized he just didn't want you around other people, or more specifically, other men. Without even knowing it, you trapped yourself at home without a lifeline, and it was exactly what he wanted.
Even though you were sore now, you felt good. You were taking care of yourself. Providing for yourself. And you never felt more proud.
You were juggling your keys, trying to find the right one that opened the door to the sidewalk, when you heard a familiar voice exit the pizza place.
"Well, look who it is," you heard Joel say, and you let the keys dangle at your side as you turned around with a smile.
"Evening, Joel," you replied, your eyes quickly drifting down his body. It was the first time you had seen him in casual clothes. Every other time you ran into him, he was in his work uniform, which usually consisted of some type of suit. But tonight, he was wearing dark blue jeans and a beige button up shirt with short sleeves. As he strolled over to you, balancing a pizza box in his hand, your eyes were immediately drawn to the way the muscles in his arms strained against the fabric of the shirt, making your mouth go dry.
"Tommy finally let you leave, huh?" he joked, and you had to remind yourself to laugh, your mind still too fixated on the way he looked in that shirt.
"Dad?" you heard a girl's voice call behind him, and you both turned your attention towards the voice. You remembered your brief interaction at the pharmacy and realized that she must be Sarah. Her eyes flickered from you to Joel, then back to you, clearly waiting for Joel to introduce you, but he seemed frozen in place. So, you stretched out your arm and introduced yourself with a smile, which she reciprocated.
"You look familiar," she said, tilting her head to the side the same way her dad did.
"I think I saw you at the pharmacy a couple days ago," you reminded her, and she snapped her fingers.
"That's what it is," she said, giving you another smile. "Are you working for Uncle Tommy?" she asked, looking at Joel again, who was still standing there, unmoving, watching the two of you interact. She frowned slightly at him, picking up on his strange reaction as well, before giving you her attention again.
"Yeah, at the diner. He hired me earlier this week, brand new," you told her, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. Joel's silence was deafening at this point and starting to make you uncomfortable, so you held up your keys and pointed to the door.
"I won't keep you guys. It was great to meet you, Sarah," you said with a wave, but before you could turn towards the door, she stopped you.
"Why don't you join us?" she asked, shooting Joel a mischievous look as if she finally realized the reason for his behavior.
"Oh, no, that's so nice of you, but I'm just gonna jump in the bath and go to bed, it's been a long day," you replied. Joel's body stiffened next to you when you announced your plans.
Finally, he managed to clear his throat and speak.
"We'd love to have you join us, we were just gonna grab a picnic table out back," he said, and you swore his cheeks looked a little pinker than usual.
You were struggling to find another polite way to turn down their offer when he added "c'mon, why don't you lemme serve you for a change?"
Sarah smiled as she watched the two of you. She couldn't wait to tease her dad about it in the car later.
"Alright," you said slowly, lowering your keys once again. Joel's face broke out in a huge grin before leading you and Sarah down the short alley to the small courtyard behind the building, where there were a few picnic tables and string lights draped overhead.
"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" you asked again, and they both vehemently shook their heads.
"No way," Sarah said, licking the sauce off her fingers after she picked up her piece from the box. "It's nice to have another girl around for a change."
"Sarah," Joel said warningly under his breath.
"I just mean it's nice to hear about something else other than work and football," she said to him with a grin, and he rolled his eyes, choosing to sit on your side of the table instead of hers.
"So, you live above the pizza place? That seems pretty cool. Pizza whenever you want," she said, covering her mouth as she spoke. You swallowed your food before responding.
"Yeah, it is pretty convenient. And they actually have good pizza," you said. "I think I'm finally getting used to the smell."
Joel's knee accidentally knock against yours under the table and you had to fight the urge to jump away, the contact startling you.
Sarah asked the same questions everyone in this small town inevitably asked you when you first met: where are you from and why are you here? The first question was easy, the second one always gave you pause. It wasn't until Sarah asked that Joel suddenly realized you never really answered him when he asked the same question earlier that day, so he stopped chewing to pay attention.
"Just looking for a change," you said with a shrug, taking another bite of pizza. Sarah considered your answer for a moment before following up.
"Have you ever been here before?"
"Nope."
"So you just got in your car and ... drove?"
"Kind of," you said with a nervous laugh. Joel frowned slightly.
"That's so cool," Sarah said, a smile stretching across her face. "Dad, doesn't that sound so cool?"
"Yeah," he said with a nod, finally joining the conversation. "Do you got family down south or anythin'?"
"Uh, no," you said, shaking your head. "Just always heard it was nice down here so I thought I would see for myself."
"You think you're here for good, then?" he asked, his voice a little more hopeful than he wanted to come across.
"That's the plan," you said to him with a smile.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Sarah asked out of the blue, and your eyes darted back to her in surprise.
"No," you replied slowly, heat creeping up your neck and guilt dancing in the back of your head while Joel hid his grin behind his pizza. "Do you?" you deflected, raising your eyebrows at her with a smirk, and she giggled, shaking her head.
"You better not," Joel said, and the two of you laughed.
Over the rest of the hour, you listened to Joel and Sarah crack jokes and argue over what movie they would end up watching later that night and you felt the smile slowly begin to slip from your face as you came to the sobering realization that the type of dynamic they had, one that was so obviously built on love and trust, was something you never truly experienced before. It wasn't just something you saw in the movies or read in books. People in the real world actually got to experience it, and you couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Why not you? What did you ever do to receive the type of life you got?
After parting ways and thanking them over and over for dinner, you finally headed upstairs and collapsed on your small sofa. You untucked your work shirt and unzipped your skirt, but that was as far as you got, exhaustion winning the fight.
You closed your eyes and wished you had the energy to get up and run a bath, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it yet. Instead, you let your mind wander, imagining a life where you could call out to someone who cared for you in the other room and ask them to run the water. Maybe they would surprise you and light a few candles and mix in some soothing bubble bath. You knew that would never happen. You could never let yourself be honest enough with anybody to allow them into your life, but it didn't stop you from wishing for it, anyway. And right before you drifted off to sleep, you imagined that certain somebody had dark brown eyes and soft curls on the top of his head that you were itching to run your fingers through.
As hard as you tried to keep to yourself, the town was very small, and eventually you found it was nearly impossible to keep from making connections with people. Whether it was through work at the diner or striking up a conversation with someone at the store, you were quickly becoming interwoven in the lives of the people who graciously accepted you as one of their own.
You were particularly becoming fast friends with the girl who worked the register at the pizzeria below your apartment. Her name was Hailey and she was a couple years younger than you, but you had a lot in common, one of which was a shared taste in the same movies and books, so you were excited when she invited you to join a book club she and a couple other women in town started. As much as you enjoyed talking about books, you found you also very much enjoyed listening to all the town gossip that inevitably came out after everyone had their first glass of wine.
"So, Nikki, did I hear Sam asked you out on a date?" an older woman named Martha asked. Nikki blushed when the group turned to her, some women poking her in the side and others murmuring excitedly under their breath.
"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," Nikki said, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. She looked to be a little older than you were but it was hard to guess her age.
"Not back in town for two weeks and she's already got a date," Hailey said, rolling her eyes next to you playfully. "Some girls got all the luck."
"Oh, stop it," she chided with a smirk, then paused as if she were rethinking her next statement before blurting out "kind of wish someone else woulda asked me out instead."
That got the whole group's attention, even your own, and you barely had any idea who most of these people were. But you supposed any amount of gossip paired with alcohol is good gossip.
"Oh, please, you don't gotta say it, we all know who you've been chasin' after all these years," another woman chimed in with a giggle. Fortunately, you weren't the only person in the dark.
"Who?" Hailey asked, leaning forward eagerly.
"Joel, obviously," the other woman replied, and while the rest of the group groaned, everyone tossing in their two cents and offering up their favorite things about him, you remained frozen in your chair, blood running cold.
"Lord, he came into school last week to pick up Sarah, and the way his ass looked in those jeans..."
"Did I ever tell you about the time I nearly slipped on the ice and he caught me? Had to go to confession the next day..."
"... and I swear, I've considered committing a crime just so he would throw those handcuffs on me..."
"I don't know how that man has been single for so long..."
Part of you wanted to laugh at some of the things the women were saying about Joel, but the other part of you felt hot and angry. You wanted to scream shut up, don't think about him like that, don't even look at him. And through your alcoholic haze, you realized you were jealous. Jealous of all of these women, young and old, barking out comments about the town sheriff you had no business feeling jealous over.
The next day when he came into the diner for lunch, your head was still swirling with all of the comments the women in town made the day before. Distracted, you dropped your pen and pad on the ground as you made your way over to greet him, cursing under your breath.
Joel grinned when you finally approached, looking every bit as frazzled as you felt.
"Tough day?"
"Huh? Oh," you said nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear and shaking your head. "N-no, not really. Well, maybe - shit," you said when you knocked over a box of straws with your fidgeting.
Joel laughed and leaned back in his chair.
"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
"Nothing," you said, shaking your head again, trying to focus. "What can I get for you?"
"Nuh uh, darlin', not so fast," he said with a tsk, and you sighed. "What's goin' on? You can tell me, y'know. I am a man of the law."
He meant it to be playful, but with your history, it had the opposite effect. You winced and swallowed the lump in your throat, and trying not to make matters worse, you caved.
"I went to a book club last night," you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrows.
"Book club, huh? Sounds like fun," he said, watching you carefully. "Maybe had a little too much fun?"
You finally dragged your gaze up to meet his and saw he was grinning at you, and you managed to force out a small laugh.
"Yeah, you could say that," you said, hoping that would be enough, but he wouldn't let it go.
"Can you get me a coffee? Then when I get back from the restroom, I wanna hear all 'bout your little book club," he said with a wink, then stood from his chair and turned around, heading towards the bathrooms while your gaze landed on his ass. It didn't look too bad in dress pants, either.
You tried to steady your breathing while you flipped over a clean mug and filled it with coffee, your mind racing and wondering what lies you could come up with to prevent telling him the reason you were so distracted.
Lost in thought with your head down, you didn't even notice when another customer took a seat at the counter until the man cleared his throat. You glanced up and apologized before bending down to grab another mug and set it down in front of the stranger.
You were pouring his coffee and telling him about the specials, your eyes glued to the counter, when he slid the barrel of a pistol across the table and into your line of sight. You froze, your hands gripping the coffee pot fiercely as you broke out into a cold sweat. You flicked your eyes back up to him. He didn't appear to be much older than you. He had his unkept hair hidden underneath his black hoodie, and you noticed his eyes looked bloodshot, his skin clammy. You knew that look. You've seen that same look one too many times.
"What do you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking.
"Open the register, gimme all the cash in this bag," he said quietly, tossing a tote bag across the counter at you. You nodded, grabbing the bag while your fingers fumbled with the buttons, desperately trying to remember how to open the drawer without a sale. You could sense he was growing frustrated with how long it was taking, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes.
"I'm sorry," you sobbed quietly. "I-I'm new, I can't remember-"
"Hurry the fuck up," he growled, and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision, the tears falling down your cheeks.
"Drop the fuckin' gun, Marcus," you heard Joel's voice call out, and a wave of relief coursed through your body. But Marcus got startled, and instead of doing as he was told, reached across the counter and grabbed you by the throat, pulling you against his chest to partially shield his body, the gun pressed against your temple as your fingers clawed at his arms.
You couldn't move. You couldn't breathe. Tears just streamed down your face as you locked eyes with Joel. They no longer carried that playful glint, his lips no longer turned up into a grin. His brow was furrowed deep and his gun drawn, cradled expertly in his large palms as his eyes shifted back to Marcus.
"I'm not lookin' to hurt anyone, sheriff. Just lemme walk outta here," Marcus rumbled behind you, his sour breath invading your nostrils and making your stomach roll.
"Now, you know I can't do that," Joel said, taking a small step forward. "But put down the gun, let her go, and we'll talk."
The grip around your throat tightened and you let out a small, pained squeak. Joel's jaw clenched when he heard the noise, his patience running thin. You hadn't noticed at the time, but the entire diner had gone quiet, some patrons slinking down in their seats, others craning their necks to get a better look.
"Goddamnit, Marcus, don't test me today," Joel growled, his eyes ablaze. "I don't wanna call your mama and tell her I had to spray her only son's brains all over the floor, but I fuckin' will." The tone in Joel's voice sent a shiver down your spine as you stilled, waiting for the stand off to be over.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the grip on your throat loosened and you no longer felt the cold metal pressed against your head. Joel locked eyes with you again as you coughed and shakily fell down to the floor behind the counter, curling yourself into a ball while you heard Joel reading Marcus his rights, the jingle of his handcuffs rang like bells in your ears.
Once Marcus was restrained, you heard Tommy bolt out of the kitchen and rush over to you. He knelt down on the ground, asking if you were okay, if you needed a doctor, concern lacing his voice but when he reached out to touch you, you flung yourself backwards violently, knocking the back of your head against the counter.
"Shit," you muttered, rubbing your head as fresh tears fell down your cheeks.
"Hey, easy now," Tommy said soothingly, glancing over the counter as Joel spoke on the phone with Bobby, ordering him to bring a car to take Marcus back to the station and book him.
"I'm fine," you whimpered, still rubbing your head as you shakily forced yourself to your feet. You watched as Joel marched Marcus to the front of the diner, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping his shoulder as he directed him through the door. A few patrons clapped weakly as the two disappeared outside, and the diner filled with excited chatter once again.
"You alright, sugar?" Betty asked, suddenly appearing beside you, face etched with worry. You flinched and brought a shaky hand to your sore neck.
"Yeah, I just need to use the restroom," you said, and before anyone could say anything further, you tore off your apron and made a beeline for the women's room.
You locked the door behind you and slid down to the grimy floor, burying your face in your hands as you sobbed, the adrenaline wreaking havoc on your nerves.
It was too much. It was all too much. The look in Marcus's eye was one you saw too many times. A junkie in desperate need for a fix. A drunk who would say or do anything for another drink. The fingers around your neck were no longer there, but you still felt them squeezing every last bit of oxygen from your lungs, every tear from your eye until you could hardly breathe.
The door handle jiggled and you jumped, wiping furiously at your face before shouting out a shaky occupied!
"Hey, it's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side of the door. No longer did he have that hardened edge to his tone. The warmth and softness in his drawl had returned.
"I just need a minute," you said quietly after a long silence, and you heard him shift his weight.
"I know, but I - can you let me in?" he asked, and you could hear the concern in his voice. You slid your eyes shut as fresh tears drenched your face once again. You ached for comfort. You wanted it so badly you would do just about anything for it. But every other time, you've been let down. Over and over and over again.
"I just need a minute," you repeated, just a whisper, not even sure he could hear.
"Then I'll be right here til you're ready, alright?" his voice came back, even softer this time. You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. You heard him sit down against the door with a tired sigh, and you let your head tilt so it rested against the door. There was a small bit of comfort to be had when you knew only an inch separated you from him.
"You were real brave," he said after a few minutes of silence. You scoffed and wiped your nose.
"Is that why I'm crying on the floor of a bathroom?"
"Please don't cry," he said, his voice strained. But you didn't say anything in return.
"He wasn't gonna do nothin'. He's got troubles, is all. Bad habits get the best of him, but he's harmless," he said, trying to make you feel better.
"I don't know, these bruises on my neck say differently," you replied, and you heard his breath hitch. Then you heard his shoes scuff on the tile floor.
"Lemme see," he said, his voice firmer now. He was standing, his voice above you, waiting to be let in. You hesitated, the tone of his voice putting you on edge, but you knew you couldn't hide in there forever. With a trembling hand, you reached up and unlocked the door, then scurried backwards so you were pressed up against the opposite wall as he swung the door open and stepped inside. His gaze fell on you and his eyes went soft at seeing your wrecked state before clicking the door shut behind him.
He rushed forward and you flinched. A bad habit of your own. He paused and slowed his movements, crouching down in front of you instead. He lifted a hand to pinch your chin but you turned your face away.
"Will you show me?" he asked gently. You gazed up at him with red rimmed eyes, your knees pulled tight against your chest. Finally, you lifted your chin. Again, he reached a hand out, but you stopped him.
"Please don't touch," you whispered. He looked at you and nodded slowly, dropping his hand again, examining your bruises with only his eyes.
"Maybe you should see a doctor," he said after a few minutes, but you shook your head.
"I'll be fine, it's just sore," you said, and his gaze flicked up from your throat to your eyes. His lips parted the longer he stared at you, and you felt the tremor return to your hands. You couldn't look away, his gaze too magnetic.
"Don't like seein' you cry," he murmured, still gazing deep into your eyes, trying so desperately to read you.
"I cry all the time," you said without even thinking. He blinked and frowned. He was about to say something else when a gentle knock on the door interrupted him.
"You okay in there?" Maria called out. You sighed and stretched out your legs, standing up and waving off Joel's helping hand.
"We don't gotta do it today, but I'll need you to come by and give your statement sometime soon," he said, glancing down at you with a sympathetic look.
"Okay," you replied, your voice cracking a bit. You looked at one another, both of you wanting to say more but neither of you could. So you reached out to open the door, forcing a smile for Maria.
"Sorry," you told her meekly, and she laughed.
"You're sorry? You just had a gun pointed at your head and you're sorry?"
You laughed weakly, then stopped short in pain, your fingers brushing against your throat.
"I just wanted to bring you your purse so you could sneak out the back," she said, lifting your purse up and handing it over to you.
"But my shift-"
"Oh my god, take the day off," Maria said, shaking her head and grinning. "Think you earned it."
"Okay," you agreed, then turned to walk through the kitchen where you could leave out the back so no customers would gawk at you.
"Lemme walk you home," Joel's voice said, startling you. You had just assumed he went back out front.
"Don't you have to, you know... work?" you asked, floundering for the right word.
"He ain't goin' anywhere," Joel said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he walked by your side down the sidewalk.
The two of you walked quietly for a few minutes.
"I've never seen you like that before," you said, breaking the silence. He turned his head towards you, raising his eyebrows.
"Like what?"
"Like, all... cop-like," you said, chuckling at your terrible choice in words.
Joel grinned and glanced down at his feet.
"Yeah, well, job's not all inappropriate graffiti and speed traps."
You hummed in agreement as you kept walking.
"Do you have to unholster your service weapon often?"
"'Service weapon'?" he repeated, surprised at the term you chose. Although it wasn't wrong, it typically was not something most people said. You just looked at him, not acknowledging it, so he let it go.
"Uh, no, not really," he said, biting the inside of his cheek.
"Oh," was all you said, taking a deep breath and continued to stare straight ahead. He watched you from the corner of his eye for a moment.
"When I came outta the bathroom and saw - " he stopped short, then rubbed his lower lip with the pad of his thumb as he collected his thoughts. "You were scared. And I... reacted."
You glanced his way again, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. What was he trying to say?
"Thank you," you said softly, but he was quick to shake his head.
"Not lookin' for you to thank me," he said, finally allowing his gaze to drift back to you, giving you a small smile.
When you finally reached your apartment, you took out your keys and turned to him, ready to thank him again, even though he told you not to, but he spoke first.
"Here, why don't you take this," he said, holding out a small white card between his index and middle finger. You gingerly took it and flipped it over, reading the text on the other side.
"It's my card. Call me when you wanna stop by the station," he reminded you, and you nodded.
"My cell's on there, too. If you ever, y'know," he said, half a smirk playing on his lips as he nervously shifted his weight. "You ever wanna talk 'bout anythin', really. 'Bout what happened today, or... book club," he said, and you laughed. He grinned, relieved to finally see you smile again.
"Okay," you said with a nod, and turned to put the key in the lock.
He watched as you made your way all the way up the steps, and didn't leave until he saw the second door at the top of the stairs close firmly behind you.
Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77 @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @fandomscollide @survivingandenduring
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller series#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#sheriff!joel#waitress reader#STR fic
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You’re Mine
One shot | Marvel Masterlist | Masterlists
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader
Genre: Smut
Words: 1.5k+
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, jealousy, fingering, daddy kink, asphyxiation, sort of public sex being that people are on the other side of a door...
Summary: Natasha has always had a thing for you being hers and only hers. It's one of the things you love about her. However, it's impossibly hard not to rile her up because of her tendency to get overprotective and possessive. This time, you may have pushed her too far. So much so that she takes matters into her own hands with a lot more urgency than what you're used to.
A/n: my finger slipped and turned my laptop's whore mode on xxx
Emerald eyes were glued to the hand on your thigh. Of course, Maria hadn't meant to stir the pot when she'd harmlessly laid her hand down. Someone had made a joke, and after a series of light slaps, her hand just settled. It wasn't uncomfortable initially, but as Natasha's eyes continued to bore into you, it certainly was.
The next thing to do was to simply move Maria's hand away. Yet, there was something so satisfying about Nat's flushed face, reddening from anger, and her auburn hair that seemed to burn brighter similarly that - you didn't care to admit it - made your stomach tense in the best of ways. Was it a good idea to egg her on? Of course not. That didn't stop you from leaning into the casual contact from Maria. The lonely hand on your knee was soon joined by yours.
If Natasha wasn't pissed off before, she sure as hell was now, and you couldn't blame her. It would have been too much for anyone to handle, what with the exaggerated laughs, nudges, and non-existent space between you and Maria. You served up a platter of green and practically spoon-feed envy straight into Nat's mouth, which was now clenched together.
"A word outside," Nat said, suddenly standing above you. The veins in her neck were strained and pulsing; her nostrils flared as heaved breaths racked through her whole body. The tight-fitted shirt she wore rose and fell plain as day, and from this sight alone, you realised you may have pushed too far.
Not waiting for a response, Natasha grabbed your wrist, pulling you up and out of the room - ignoring the following sets of eyes.
Once you were away from said prying eyes, the older woman had you backed against the wall in an instant, eyes of fury scorching through you.
"You think I'd let that slide?" She seethed, wrapping her fingers around your throat, "Do I need to remind you that you're mine?"
The tight, possessive coiling of her fingers burned down your chest and ignited a fire between your legs. Nat had never been shy about where she stood on you getting comfortable with others. Even mentioning previous relationships would have repercussions. Often, these were reminders of how said relationships lacked vital things only Natasha could give you, i.e., the ability to walk the next day.
"No," you squeaked.
"It's obvious I do," Nat growled, sliding a hand between your bodies and roughly palming your breast.
The beginnings of a moan caught in your throat as the auburnette squeezed her fingers tighter around your neck. In some ways, you knew it would boil down to this, though you expected the display of dominance and ownership to come later in the night, when everyone was fast asleep, and no sound made would penetrate the alert ears that filled the room the other side of the wall.
You tried pleading with her, "Nat, they'll hear."
"Let them," she said, her lips inching closer to your ear, "It seems they also need a reminder of who you belong to."
"Nat," you attempted again before you were cut off by the sharp feel of her teeth biting the flesh under your ear.
With her hand still firmly holding you against the wall, airways fighting to get oxygen in, she lowered her hand down your ribcage and cupped your clothes cunt. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, knowing what was to come. It would have been easy for you to say stop or to have pushed Nat away entirely, but excitement was bubbling under the surface, and a large part of you wanted this. To be owned. To be claimed. To be reminded of what happens when you forget your place.
"You want daddy's fingers, don't you?" She muttered into your ear, her tone low, her voice raspy.
"Yes," you shamelessly breathed out.
In one quick move, your body was flipped, face pressed against the wall and hands on either side of your face. One of Natasha's hands held your hip in place, the other slithered between the wall and your stomach, slowly moving south. Deft fingers trailed a line up your thigh, reaching the waistband of your panties and wasted no time delving into the sticky mess she'd created.
"Did having Maria's hands all over you do this?" Nat asked, the disdain in her voice evident.
Having her so close to where you needed, yet refusing to appease your growing desire, had you shaking your head and wriggling your hips, trying to position your clit over her stubborn fingers. However, Natasha was unrelenting and moved her hand away entirely, resting on your jaw and yanking it back so you could face her.
"Tell me who your cunt belongs to," she demanded.
Behind the anger and lust that donned her eyes, once light sage, the shade of dark juniper, you saw a hollowness that encircled and sought to wreak havoc on the one certainty she held sacred - you. Of course, you had always made it clear that you were hers and she was yours, but despite her tough bravado, sometimes she also needed to be reminded. After all, the avenger was only human.
"You," your voice crackled in your throat, desperately trying to remain quiet yet sure in your words when all you wanted was to be mercilessly fucked against the wall, "you, you and only you."
"Good girl." she pecked the underside of your jaw. A smirk lined her smooth, balmed lips as she did so.
You could have cried with joy when Natasha released you and trailed her finger back down to your underwear. Instead, you settled for a soft moan of gratitude when you felt the pressure radiate off your body and the beginnings of lazy circles drawn over your clit.
Despite the urgency that flooded through you and the precarious place where your body was being taken, Nat showed no signs of being in a rush. The languish exploration of a place she knew all too well was still being undergone after gruelling minutes. A complaint had touched the tip of your tongue so many times, and as if the older woman knew when it was coming, she'd give you the tiniest taste of relief and settle back into the depth of endless torture.
It was too much. A lump was caught in your throat, your bottom lip was sore from the firm bite of your teeth, and your body fought to keep itself upright and steady while simultaneously trying to remain docile.
"Please, daddy," you begged, rucking your hips for the hundredth time, "Fuck me."
Immediately, you sensed the change in Nat's stature. She stood taller and closed the space between your bodies, pressing her chest firmly to your back and pushing you further into the wall. The cold paint was welcome against your flushed cheek and cut your gasp off short.
This newfound calm would only last a millisecond before two fingers penetrated the junction between your legs, and a fire set ablaze every living cell in your body.
There was no need to move anymore because the expeditious pace and vigour of Natasha's talented fingers left you sated - in addition to clouding your conscious mind. The only task necessary to focus on, thanks to the body and hand holding you in place against the wall, was breathing.
"Say it again," she ordered.
The moment her thumb made contact with your throbbing clit, a bolt of lightning plummeted through your spine and forced your neck to snap back with a silent whimper. Thankfully, the avenger's quick reflexes came to her aid. She moved her head in time for the back of your head to crash down on her shoulder. The thudded contact would have been painful had it not been for your senses being somewhat preoccupied with the brain-numbing ecstasy that was reaching its peak.
"Fuck me, daddy!"
Careful to make sure the force of her body would be enough to keep you upright, the auburnette wound her arm around your body and placed her hand firmly around your neck. Everything around you faded and ceased to exist; the floor beneath your feet was gone, and you were floating on cotton clouds. You dragged your nails down the wall in an effort to grasp onto something tangible. Instead, the mix of the dulled scratching sounds and emptiness in your palms left you increasingly consumed by the ethereal feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
"I'm going to come, daddy," you cried out, surely extracting a snigger from someone on the other side of the wall, "Please keep going."
"You're mine," Natasha uttered into your ear, squeezing the sides of your throat harder. She ran her thumb faster over your clit, curved her fingers at the end of each thrust, and within the next few seconds, the stars in your visions illuminated a blacked-out night sky.
"Mine."
When you regained the ability to see again, you spun around and crashed your lips to Nat's. It took her by surprise, though quickly enough, she reciprocated and poured every ounce of love she had into the kiss.
"I'm yours," you whispered softly against her lips, "and only yours."
Taglist: @ssa-sapphic @red1culous @7thavenger @five-bi-five-mind @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @asolitaryrose3 @lesbi-hinest-here @imlike-so-gaydude @taylorswiftsboyfriend @asphodelvamp @tmlwattpad19 @jareguiromanoff @lilfartbox1 | click here to be added to my taglist
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff#marvel#marvel fanfiction
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already decided
i just had a lil thought ab protective!ellie, so in love w her gf she'd do anything to keep her safe
Ellie’s temper was as short as she was. She couldn’t manage it for the life of her, and when it came to you, she didn’t even try.
“Are you some kind of fucking moron?!” She’d yelled at Jesse one day when you came back from patrol with a nasty scratch on your arm.
“I fell—“
“Should’ve fucking caught her, Jesse—“
“Are you fucking insane?” He’d asked, earning a cartoonish shrug in response. “Broaden your vocabulary, Ellie.”
She then went on to say ‘fuck’ as many times as she could before Jesse walked away.
If you didn’t shut her up, she’d probably end up flying off the handle— though, you couldn’t say those rare occasions were undeserved. When they were serious, there was always a reason; like when Maria spooked your horse and you fell off, the animal nearly breaking your arm before Ellie grabbed the reins. Or when you weren’t on full alert during a patrol, nearly got swarmed, and she had to get you out of the situation.
There was always a reason any time she went overboard, but tonight was different; she never got this way.
There was a guy bothering you at the bar, continuously getting drinks and trying to talk to you despite you rejecting his advances. He was new, so you didn’t want to be harsh, but Ellie didn’t care about that at all.
“Hey, can you back the fuck up off my girlfriend?” She asked, overly sweet, as she walked over to him, smiling despite how pissed off she was. You'd told her how uncomfortable you were after she came back from the bathroom, the man getting more bold with her gone and nearly making you want to follow after her or find Joel and Tommy. “She’s very clearly not fucking interested.”
You didn’t know what led to what you could hear next, as Ellie had been keeping quiet, making sure not to make a scene even if she knew how uncomfortable you were. That failed, though, when she punched the man square in the jaw, knocking his head into the bar and making him fall out of his barstool. “Fucking asshole!” Was all you heard when your head snapped over to her. She hit him again when he spat something at her, blood mixed in with snarled words that made her ram her fist into his eye socket so hard that she broke skin. “She’s not fucking interested. Got that?! Fucking creep. I fucking better not see you around her again, you fucking—!”
“Ellie!” Thankfully, Joel got to her before she could do anything more than knock him out, grabbing Ellie as you got up and rushed over while Joel dragged her out of the bar.
“Did you hear what the fuck he said?!” Her gaze snapped to you when you opened the door and came out to meet them. Her angered expression, sewn together brows, flared nostrils, and sneered lips puffing harsh breaths of air, fell to concern immediately. “Did you?” You looked between them, frowning. “Did you hear what he said?”
“No, but are you—?“
“Good.” The sneer on her lip as she shook out her fist made you refrain from asking her what he said that caused her to react like that, taking her hand to look at her already bruising knuckles. “Should’ve fucking killed him. Fuck.”
“You want me to talk to Maria, El?” Joel asked, placing a hand on both your shoulders and squeezing. He knew how much you hated this, as it made you more anxious than anything, but he also knew Ellie was completely serious about killing the guy after hearing what he’d said, and he had no objection to it.
“Yeah,” she huffed out, a sick smile on her face. “Send him over to the fucking raiders.” She continued to curse under her breath despite being one-hundred-percent serious. “Joel, did you hear him?” She asked again, looking at him in search of reassurance for her reaction.
“Yeah…” He sighed, looking at you briefly before looking back to Ellie. “Yeah, babygirl, I heard him. I’ll see what I can do, alright?” He rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to get her to calm down, but it was no use.
“What a fucking pig,” she was still going on, clutching your hands in her bruising one.
Joel nodded toward the street, and you quickly got the memo. “Why don’t we get home, El?” You suggested, squeezing her hand to get her attention. She hummed, bringing the back of your hand to her mouth to kiss your knuckles.
You hadn’t tried to calm her down that time, not knowing what to say with the way she was still gripping your hands and staring at the ground.
Eventually, she spoke up. “I really tried not to make a scene,” she said. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, or scared you, or—“
“It’s fine, Els.”
“I’d explain, but I’d have to repeat what he said, and I don’t ever want to hear that shit again… Fucking disgusting.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Seriously. Sorry anyone would ever fucking say something like that… Fuck’s sake.”
You walked in silence for a while, gently stroking the back of her palm as she lifted her gaze from the ground to your hands cupping hers, which would probably be trembling if it weren't for you holding it.
“I’ve never seen you so serious about…” you spoke up after a moment, still not even knowing how to communicate with her like this. “You know, when you’re yelling at Jesse about patrol, it’s usually half joking, or something, but… You seriously looked like you were gonna kill him.”
“Should’ve.”
She was still gripping your hand when you got home, unlocking the door and holding it open for her.
As soon as she was in the safety of your home, her face started to turn red. She brought the heels of her palms to her eyes as she sucked in a harsh breath, cursing at herself for how upset she was getting.
“Should I get you tea or something?” She’d never been so angry that she started crying, and you didn’t know how to deal with that. You had half a mind to go get Joel again. “What do you need from me?”
She sighed, putting her hands down. Her face was still red, but she was refusing to let herself get worked up again. “Can we go to bed?” She asked quietly, gaining a quick nod from you. You held out your hand for her. She went to take it, but quickly stopped herself. “I need to wash my hands.”
“Okay…” You nodded, offering a reassuring smile. “I’ll set out some clothes for you, yeah?” She nodded, lips pursed. You leaned in, kissing her cheek and gaining a nearly unnoticable smile before you went your separate ways.
You changed into one of her shirts and underwear before you got into bed and waited. It must’ve been a half hour before she came back, looking much calmer than she did before. She changed into the shirt and boxers you set out for her, keeping quiet as she got into bed and lied behind you with her head resting on your shoulder.
“Feel better?” You asked. She only hummed, bringing her hand to your hip and running it up your waist. “El, what did he—?“
“I love you,” she said quietly, shaking her head and kissing your shoulder. “I’d do fucking… anything for you. You know that?” Her hand slipped beneath your shirt, running over your stomach and making you understand that she'd never repeat those words. Even if they were still running through her mind. “I won’t let anyone touch you. Fucking ever.” Her touch was soft despite her words, tone uninviting for argument. “If anyone ever lays a hand on you, you tell me. I’ll fucking kill them—“
“Ellie,” you warned, turning toward her and lying on your back.
You tried to be stern in an attempt to help ground her, as that was the only thing that would make her relax, but her words were earnest, coming out far too easily.
She shook her head, and when you looked up at her, you could tell that she was completely calm. She'd already decided that she should've killed that man, and you had half a mind to think she was so upset earlier because she didn't get to.
“If anyone even looks at you wrong…” She muttered as she hovered over you, forearms resting on either side of your head to hold herself up as her fingers ran softly over your hair. “If that’s really how people think, then I don’t care—“
“What did he say, El? Why did it get you so worked up?” Your hands went to her shoulders, gently rubbing her back to soothe her.
She shook her head, bringing her hand to your cheek and running the backs of her fingers down your skin. “Nothing you should have to hear…” She moved to straddle you, sitting back on your thighs as she lowered her head to your neck. “Just know…” She kissed you softly. “If I ever see him again…” Her kisses were loving, soft lips grazing your skin as she tucked her head in the crook of your neck. “He’s fucking dead.”
#ellie williams#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x female reader#ellie tlou#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader#the last of us ellie#ellie x fem reader#tlou ellie#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams ff#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams blurb#ellie williams drabble#ellie williams angst
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Touch | Part Two
Words: 2.7k
Part One | Series Masterlist | Part Three |
You have no intention of messing with the stability you have discovered in Jackson. But whatever higher power is still up there twenty years after the end of the world has other plans.
Warnings: slow burn, post-outbreak, Joel Miller is a grump and a menace, no use of y/n, eventual smut but not in this chapter, I still have no idea how many parts this will be but I’m feeling six maybe?
Maria’s words ringing in your ears, you resolved to stay away from Joel and his not-quite-adopted daughter. Having become accustomed to defending the things that mattered to you, you found yourself protective of this little community your dad would have dismissed as communist had he had the chance to see and unfairly judge it. Sleeping without your boots on, your feet rubbing over the bare cotton tucked up in blankets, had been a pleasure you had finally remembered how to enjoy.
Marla, though. Marla has always had a flare for the dramatic and surprisingly poor judgement for someone who has lived this long through the end of the world. She was a literal child on outbreak day, as opposed to your wisened 16 years, and you suspected she may have stopped developing around that point. Her complete lack of maturity, her ability to wonder blindly into abject terror just to unblinkingly fight her way out of it, was endearing so long as there weren’t clickers on the edge of the tree line. She had decided your tendency to isolate was ‘making you weird’ and every lunch time for the last four days had arrived on your front step to march you down to the mess hall. You suspected the real reason was to check out the newcomers, under the cover of altruism. You respected her tenacity, even as you resented her for it.
Four and a half days into her crusade to integrate you into any available social group, she waved a spoon in front of your face.
‘This is no good,’ she assessed, gesturing to your eyes, then your bottom lip. You sucked it in between your teeth and reminded yourself she had been the one hauling you over the sides of mountains to get you here.
‘Be more specific,’ you said and she grinned.
‘You don’t smile when you’re in here, your eyes go all squinty,’ she observed.
You felt something click in your jaw and you reached up to push hard on the condyle, the masseter tight as a bow string.
‘Just so many people,’ you said, pushing your stew around in your bowl. ‘It doesn’t make you nervous?’
‘I go through that gate most days of the week,’ Marla replied, her tone passive but somehow assuring. ‘The way Tommy runs it, no-one’s getting through that check point with anything less than a Nobel peace prize.’
Out of the corner of your eye you watched as Joel offered his left overs to his daughter, the two of them sitting alone at the end of a nevertheless crowded table. He sat hunched, favouring his right side, his arm tucked in hard against his ribs. If he leant too far over in the wrong direction he grimaced, and you noticed this all in the fleeting glances you allowed yourself while Marla forced you to ingest first your stew, and then her gossip.
‘What do you know about them?’ you asked, cringing when Marla turned her full body to peer in their direction. It wouldn’t have surprised you if she pulled binoculars out of her cargo pants to get a better look.
‘Him and Tommy spent a lot of time apart, when Tommy was a firefly.’
You sucked air into your lungs, sure for a moment they had just collapsed.
‘He’s not anymore, not for a long time,’ Marla defended. ‘He didn’t…he doesn’t follow their philosophy.’
‘You’ve been talking to Maria,’ you observed. She started plucking at the skin around her fingernails. You smiled at her, warmth in your voice. ‘Ray not the only one doing reconnaissance?’ And you rolled your r for dramatic effect, and because sometimes you could be quite funny, actually.
Marla grinned, busted. ‘It’s. It’s important for me to know, when I’m on patrol it’s about protecting? People? So I need to know about…the people.’ You wanted to give her a standing ovation, the bullshit was so exceptional. Instead you lifted a hand to her shoulder, sent affection down your arm and under your palm, where you hoped you deposited it into her muscle.
‘Maria’s not a fan,’ you said, and watched Marla acknowledge this fact, then make her way around it.
‘He’s different to Tommy, I guess. She’s made her preferences clear.’
You let that sit for a second. You thought about telling her what Maria had said, keeping his daughter in the dark, but you felt a need to keep the seed unwatered, not to throw it any fertile ground.
‘He’s hot,’ you confirmed, simply, and she blushed.
‘He is though?’ She grinned. ‘I’m going to ask Tommy to swing him onto my patrol.’
‘He patrols?’ You asked, alarmed, noting again the way he was so stiff on his right side as he pushed his chair back behind him.
‘He’s a protector,’ she replied, and you both watched as he stood from the table, waited for his daughter to follow, then shuffled off alone and away. ‘Like me,’ Marla finished, reaching for your unfinished stew.
—
You knew, in this new world you all now made the best of, that curiosity was a dangerous thing. Remembered the young boy from two apartments down who wanted to see the sun fully set without dipping behind walls. The girl who thought the FEDRA soldier with warm green eyes might have been a softie under all the armour, all the hardship. The kid who wanted to understand why the fence was humming, and put his hand out to see what would happen. Curiosity was a dangerous, tricky, deceitful thing in a world already lousy with nasty surprises. You kept your head down and your mouth shut, and it had got you this far. You would have to be perfectly happy not knowing anything about Tommy’s older possibly homicidal but kind of limpy on one side brother. That was your plan.
It, too, failed almost immediately. It wasn’t fate or divine intervention that delivered him to you, it was Tommy, on your front porch with Joel over his shoulder, Tommy’s smile bright and benevolent and Joel’s grimace trained solely on your doorstep.
‘Evening’, Tommy said, and not for the first time you imagined him in a cowboy hat just so he could dip it to you like a gentleman. ‘You met my brother?’
You shook your head, having apparently swallowed glue sometime between opening the door and this moment.
‘He’s grumpy and he’s hurt,’ Tommy continued, undeterred by his older brother’s scoff of disapproval. ‘Not necessarily in that order.’
‘Hurt how?’ you asked, stepping forward before remembering yourself and immediately stepping back.
‘Not hurt at all,’ Joel said, and his voice was so much softer than you imagined, a gentle rumble, that carried with it years of struggle. You tried with every atom on your skin to stop the goosebumps. Failed.
‘Not recent, but acting up. The cold. The walkin’ Tommy continued. ‘Maria said you work miracles, so thought I’d give you the devil’n see what you can do.’
You smiled at Maria’s assessment, wanting to ask after her but sensing from the pure recalcitrance leeching off Joel that it would be the thing that finally made him turn and march home.
Instead you stepped aside, gesturing into the warmth of your home. Tommy smiled again, whacked Joel on the shoulder and down your front steps. ‘Behave,’ he called out behind him, to which his brother very purposefully did not respond.
You realised as soon as he was in it that your house suited Joel. It was a little shabby, a lot rough around the edges, but it smelt like warm wood and furniture oil and you’d tried to keep things ordered for the sake of appearances. He stopped in the entryway, his eyes swivelling from your lounge room to the bedroom doors, and you stepped forward and around him to get to your treatment room. ‘In here,’ you said, and turned your back so you wouldn’t see if he’d rolled his eyes at you. You felt him approach behind you, heard a floorboard creak as if it sang just for him, and held your breath.
‘The hell is that?’ he asked, and you turned to see him pointing at your apocalyptic massage table.
‘You get in the middle, the towels hold you up,’ you said, seeing it now through his eyes and dying inside, just a little.
‘Ain’t getting on that,’ he said, plainly. ‘Thing’ll collapse and take us both with it.’
You sighed. He was hot but he was also annoying. He was a perfect match for Marla.
‘You haven’t even said where you’re hurt,’ you said, and he stopped you.
‘Ain’t hurt.’
‘Where Tommy thinks you’re hurt,’ you said. You watched him cock his knee out to the side, shifting his weight to one leg and standing with his hands on his hips. He seemed bigger than the room could possibly withstand. His jaw tensed as he thought.
‘Shoulder,’ he said eventually, having apparently assessed that divulging this information wouldn’t likely result in instant death.
‘I can do your shoulder in a chair,’ you offered, and immediately regretted your choice of words. He raised his eyebrow.
‘Chair any less collapsible?’ he asked.
‘Not at all. But you’ll have less distance to fall,’ you said, and his eyes sparkled ever so slightly when he laughed.
Except that the kitchen was smaller than your treatment room and somehow you’d never noticed it, and with the table and chairs in the centre of the room suddenly it felt like Joel took up all the space. You contemplated this as he shuffled around you, how Maria at nearly eight months gone could feel petite in comparison. You realised you hadn’t seen her at the mess hall for a few days, that you should check on her.
‘I gotta take my shirt off?’ Joel muttered, with his back turned to you. When you didn’t immediately answer he turned to look at you over his shoulder, and where you thought you’d see ridicule you saw only a guarded vulnerability. For a second. Before he turned away.
‘Have you never had a massage?’ you asked, and he sat heavy down on the chair.
‘Not really my thing,’ he said, in such a way that did not engender any follow up questions.
‘You don’t have to take it off’, you said. ‘Whatever you’re more comfortable with.’
You realised then he had already decided, settled as he was with his back to you and his hands resting in his lap. He closed his eyes, almost as though he was bracing himself.
‘Go on then,’ he said.
You glanced at the ceiling. Events of the last twenty years already had you pretty much convinced there was no higher power, but in this moment you appealed to it, regardless. You had no idea what had your heart racing so fast. You flexed your fingers to try and get them to steady before you touched him.
His right shoulder was indeed tight, but you knew almost immediately that wasn’t where the pain was coming from. Over his flannel you felt along the clavicle, up to the back of his neck, swept down across his scapula. When you reached further, down towards his waist, he shifted, clearing his throat. You pulled back.
‘Said shoulder,’ he said. At this you rolled your eyes, finally having enough of the man who you were helping for free being gruff in your own kitchen. At least Maria made you tea when she came over.
‘It’s all connected,’ you said, prodding perhaps a little more roughly at his deltoid. ‘You need to think of your body like a series of links in a chain. One gets weak and the rest of them up and down from it have to compensate.’
‘Mmm,’ he replied, and you weren’t sure how but he made it sound dismissive. You felt heat on your cheeks.
‘The shoulder doesn’t just mean here,’ you said, putting your hand on the expanse of his shoulder blade. ‘Shoulder pain can be neck, jaw, back.’
‘You go to school for this?’ He asked, changing the subject.
‘I did yeah, before… Before.’
You took a step closer, repositioning yourself so that you could take his wrist in your hand and hold his arm forward, over his chest. With your other hand you pushed into the rhomboid, felt the push back of the muscle as it fought you to release.
You realised, after several seconds of holding him, that you were basically hugging him from behind. You wondered if he could feel your breath on the back of his neck. You wondered if he liked it. This close you could smell the soap he used, the sweat on the back of his neck mingling with the warmth of his cotton shirt. You released him, tension now effectively transferred from his body to yours, and he let out a long exhale.
‘You favour this side,’ you said, before you’d really thought about it.
‘Do I?’ He asked. ‘You notice things like that?’ In that moment you were glad to be behind him, so that he couldn’t see the blush storming up your cheeks.
You set upon his trapezius, then, digging your fingers into his flesh, found it more pliable than his shoulder. You heard his sharp intake of breath.
‘Tender?’ you asked, but he didn’t answer other than to grunt. You continued, suddenly realising you were dangerously close to running your hands through his hair and worse, wanting to.
He hissed then, and you stopped. ‘Sorry,’ you said, automatically, and he pushed your hand away, but not unkindly.
‘Was carrying some wood on it,’ he said, reaching up himself to poke and prod at the tender spot. ‘Tommy was there, saw me tryin’ta be a hero. Called me out on it, said I don’t know my age.’
‘Sure you weren’t showing off for the sake of your little brother?’ you asked. He grinned.
‘Not for him, but maybe for the other guys gathered round helpin’.
You put your hand on his left shoulder as you came around in front of him, pushing the table out of the way with your hip as you went. ‘Here, I just need to…’ you said, as he pushed his chair backwards to make space for you, and you used his good shoulder as an anchor when you pivoted to turn back towards him. He looked up at you, big brown eyes underneath arching brows. You saw his hands lift from his lap as if to steady you, as if to grab you by the hips and grind you down on his cock.
You swallowed. Took a second to wonder where that had come from, before you lifted your hands to his right arm and folded it again in front of him. ‘Just need to get a better angle,’ you explained, almost under your breath now that you were facing him, and he nodded quickly at you. For a moment he just gazed up at you, and you felt more naked than if he had stripped you down right there in your kitchen. You felt relief when he closed his eyes.
‘So when you say carrying some wood…’
‘Three planks, not heavy just awkward. Used to be able to do it easy.’
You cupped his trapezius, easier to get to from the front, and gently lifted the muscle up with a squeeze. Close to him like this, his face level with your chest, you felt more than heard the rush of his air as he gasped. His eyes flew open and shot straight to yours, his mouth dropping open in surprise.
You wanted to lean down and suck on his bottom lip. You felt the tremble return to your hands. A synapse, firing off randomly somewhere behind your earlobe, reminded you when the client was in pain to keep them talking. You swallowed twenty years worth of ache, and cleared your throat.
‘You a carpenter?’ you asked, and for some reason thought of Jesus, and of Joel wrapped in a loin cloth, and of nailing yourself to the cross if you couldn’t fucking get your shit together.
‘I was a contractor,’ he said, closing his eyes now that you were no longer actively torturing him.
‘What are you now?’ you asked, feeling a click under your fingers as the joint finally settled. He exhaled, the relief causing him to finally relax just a little, his whole frame leaning forward toward you, such that you worried his head would collide with your breast.
‘Old,’ he said, after a beat.
‘All fixed,’ you said, taking a step back and colliding inelegantly with the kitchen table. Later, after you’d refused any and all payment and he had promised to owe you a favour regardless, after you’d walked him to the front door and shown him out, after you’d gone into your treatment room and stood staring at your massage table as if it had any answers, you went and stood in the doorway to your kitchen. The table was still askew, the other chairs dangerously close to scuffing the walls. Your gaze lingered, though, on the chair where he had just been. You found yourself reluctant to move it, wanting to sit down in it to try and keep his warmth. You laughed at yourself, wondered what Marla would say, tried to practice how you could tell her the story at lunch tomorrow.
You flicked the light off before you went to bed. You’d move the chair back tomorrow. Maybe.
#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#no y/n
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Right in the middle of the 18th century, we have this absolutely frothy pink gown that screams springtime. Yellow bows? Sign me up!
If there is a timeless shape, I'm willing to bet it's this one. Though this doesn't have quite the volume of some of the dresses in this period, it still endures again in the 1830s and 1840s, the 1870s and 1880s, and then again in the 1950s. A fitted bodice, a 3/4 sleeve, and a flared skirt. Plus that gorgeous scoop neck.
This robe à la française was owned by Mrs. Maria Altenburg of Denmark. It then had some adventures of its own, showing up later in Victorian Era costume parties! So it's likely it's had alterations. Most dresses of this era have.
I love the floral spill and the ribbon details! Really marvelous on every level. I am obsessed.
Source: https://digitaltmuseum.no/021069530963/overkjole-med-skjort
#fashion history#textiles#costume#historical costuming#silk dress#costume history#threadtalk#history of fashion#baroque#rococo#extant garments#georgian fashion#georgian era
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scattered thoughts / sharp focus
Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))
Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit
Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something
Word count: 7.5K
A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.
“Tell me again.”
Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.
“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”
You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.
“And where did they take him?”
“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”
You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.
“Okay. I’m going.”
“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”
“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”
“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”
“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”
“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”
“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”
“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.
“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.
“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”
“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”
“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”
She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.
“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”
With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.
There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.
You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.
Now you planned on doing just that.
You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.
But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…
“I’m coming with you.”
Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.
Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.
And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.
“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.
“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”
You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.
It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…
“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”
It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.
“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”
Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
Jesus. Exactly like Maria.
Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”
Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.
“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”
You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.
You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.
It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.
You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.
At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.
“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”
The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.
He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.
You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.
“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”
You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.
“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”
“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”
You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.
“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”
“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”
You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.
“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”
“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”
You nodded. You really hoped he was right.
*****
At first, everything was going according to plan.
At least, until Ellie decided to show up.
She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.
You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.
You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.
So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out. It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.
Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.
Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.
The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.
It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.
You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.
Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.
“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”
Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.
“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”
Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.
Your heart stopped in your chest.
“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”
You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…
No, it can’t be, it can’t…
You couldn’t feel anything.
“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”
That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.
As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.
Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.
You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.
“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"
The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.
You didn’t consider any other option.
There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.
And paused.
There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…
He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…
Then you did something you never expected of yourself.
The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.
The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.
He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.
But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…
The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.
The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.
The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.
“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.
“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.
Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.
An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.
“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”
He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–
You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.
Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.
Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.
Three, two…
In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.
“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”
Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.
“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”
The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.
Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.
She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.
“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.
“Who are you?”
“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.
“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”
“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”
The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.
The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.
You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.
Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.
You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.
Joel…
“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.
Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.
Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.
Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.
“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”
Something ignited inside you at his words.
Joel.
You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…
Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…
And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.
Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.
And again.
With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.
She immediately stopped moving.
“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”
You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.
“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”
“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.
“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”
You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.
You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…
Should be.
The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.
“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.
“No.”
Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.
“Why… did you take him?”
And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.
“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”
White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.
‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–
You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.
“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”
And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.
They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…
But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–
The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.
Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.
There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.
Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.
The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.
You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.
“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”
His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.
Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.
“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.
Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.
Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…
You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?
And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…
You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.
They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…
It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.
You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…
Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–
“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”
You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.
Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.
It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.
*****
Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.
The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.
Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.
Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.
What the hell happened?
He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.
“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.
“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”
“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”
You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.
“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”
Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.
And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.
“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”
“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”
“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”
“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.
“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.
“What happened?”
“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”
“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”
He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”
“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”
“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”
Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.
“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”
Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.
“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”
“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”
“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”
Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.
Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.
Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.
Because of him.
The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.
He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.
“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”
No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.
Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.
“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#joel miller angst#joel tlou#tlou hbo#btw i tried to do some research on tranquilizers and anesthesia drugs but i didn't find anything clear so. everything you read is made up#i could have wrote it better but.. eh#it was challenging enough and i can't believe i've spent almost a month on it
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Apothecary - Chapter Two
joel miller x witchy!reader
series masterlist
everyone's got something to say about her, and Joel doesn't know what to make of it. when he returns the favor he owes her, he tries to get some answers up in the mountains and away from the wagging tongues of Jackson.
warnings | 18+ angst, mentions of death, spooky-ooky vibes, people being superstitious dickheads
a/n | thank you all for the love on the first part of this series! i just got so excited i couldn't help but write the second part :) keep letting me know what you think, my inbox is always open and i love to hear from you!
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“My son had a cough since he was two years old. She cured it with whatever she keeps bubbling on that stove of hers.”
“I had a rash that just wouldn’t go away. She gave me a balm that cleared it right up. A godsend, really.”
“Wouldn’t be alive today if she hadn’t nursed me back to health with all those herbs and plants she tends to.”
“She talks to animals. Calmed a bucking colt with a whisper– I saw it myself!”
“I heard that infected don’t even notice her. Just walk right past her. That ain’t human, if you ask me.”
“That cat of hers spies on people and brings all their secrets back to her. You can’t tell me that’s a normal cat, not with the way it stares at folks.”
“Some of the women say they’ve seen her out in the middle of the night, dancing naked in her backyard whenever it’s a full moon.”
“I don’t know about dancing naked, but I have seen some strange lights coming from her shop on my way home from the Tipsy Bison. Lord knows what she gets up to in there.”
“She curses men. Lures them up into the mountains and puts them under her spell. But they always end up dead.”
“Dead?”
“As a doornail. It ain’t a coincidence that any man that crosses paths with her seems to wind up with one really unlucky patrol shift. Luck’s got nothing to do with it, lemme tell you.”
Even though Tommy told him to forget about it, Joel’s been doing a bit of recon, asking people around town about her, and every new anecdote only further confuses him. It seems like everyone’s got some sort of opinion about the resident witch.
It has shocked him, really, how openly folks call her that. Even the ones that speak highly of her. He had asked Ellie about what she had heard one day after she came home from her classes at the community school. She had shrugged, a knowing grin on her face
“Well, she sure helped me out, old man. But yeah, my friends say their moms call her a lot worse names than witch. Personally, I think it’s fucking cool. D’you think she can fly around on a broom like in the movies?” Joel had not been particularly amused by that question.
He’s not sure what to make of any of it. Some people call her a saint. Others call her the devil incarnate. But there does seem to be a general consensus that any man that sets her in his sights is doomed to meet a timely demise.
It’s been two weeks since he saw her at the town market, and he hasn’t even caught a glimpse of her since. According to Maria, she’s been busy with a flare-up of some sort of stomach bug in the community, making house calls and – Joel supposes – working her magic.
He can’t figure out why he even cares. After all, he’s only met the woman once. But he can’t seem to shake her out of his thoughts, replaying their meeting over and over in his head, particularly the moment she had said Sarah’s name with such certainty.
He finds himself rolling all this over in his mind most nights, sitting out on his front porch as the summer sun turns to thick liquid over the mountains. It’s in such a position that he finally sees her again, approaching his house with a tired smile on her face.
“Hey there, stranger.” She walks up the first step to his porch, leaning against the wooden beam as she speaks. He can’t help the way his eyes trail over her, a pair of coveralls like the kind mechanics used to wear pulled distractingly taut around the swell of her hips and a cloth bag slung over her shoulder, the tops of jars and bottles peeking out of it. When his eyes finally slip back up to her face, the quirk of her eyebrows lets him know that she totally clocked him checking her out, and he has to clear his throat, swallowing his embarrassment before he responds.
“Um, hey– hi. I, uh, haven’t seen you around lately.” She tilts her head at him, smile simmering down to a crooked smirk.
“I’ve been a little busy with all the– y’know, vomiting and diarrhea around town. But I think folks are finally out of the woods now.” Joel has to wonder to himself how she can still manage to look pretty while talking about vomiting and diarrhea.
“How exactly do you help– with that?” Her smile broadens.
“For the stuff coming out the top end, peppermint oil mostly. Ginger is king, but I’ve only got so much of it cultivating at the shop. For the problem down below, you just gotta push fluids and tell them it’ll pass.”
“Can I ask– how do you know this stuff?”
“Most of what I know comes from my mom. She was a lady of the plants, knew just about everything about anything that grows.” Fondness laces through her words, a soft smile as she tells him this, and he finds himself mirroring her expression.
“Lady of the plants– that’s a new one to me.”
“Well, it’s better than witch, right?” Joel’s smile falls, but she just laughs.
“So I take it you’ve heard the rumors about me?” He’s not sure how to respond, a thickness settling in his throat and ice prickling the back of his neck. His voice comes out a bit hoarse when he does finally answer.
“Heard a lot of things about you. Not really sure what to believe though.” Her smile screws up at that, eyes crinkling as she looks at him.
“Why don’t you just ask me what you’re wondering then? Get it straight from the source.” She crosses her arms over her chest, the unbuttoned snaps of her coveralls splaying open to reveal the edge of a white tank-top, the suggestion of cleavage drawing Joel’s eyes before he can help it. He swallows hard, eyes darting back up to hers.
“Is it– I mean– are you?”
“Am I what?” She wants to hear him say it, he can tell by the ghosting curve of her lips. The word feels silly coming out of his mouth.
“Are you a– a witch?” Her smile goes practically radioactive at that, big and bright as she throws her head back in a laugh. She looks back at him, her lips pursed, eyes narrowed.
“Oh yeah, certified. Got the black cat to prove it and everything.” As if on cue, Stevie jumps up onto the railing of the porch, making Joel jump in his seat. She stifles a giggle behind her hand, Stevie nuzzling against her arm that’s wrapped around the porch beam. Joel huffs.
“Look, it seems like everyone’s got something to say about you. But I’m not the kind of guy to buy into a bunch of bullshit rumors.” She hums at that.
“Oh, no? What kind of guy are you then, Joel?”
“The kind that likes to work things out for himself.”
“Is that what this is? You working me out?”
“Sure am trying to.” She sucks her teeth, squinting at him.
“And?” Joel sighs.
“And– I’m thinking it’s gonna take me a while to reach any kind of conclusion.” She nods lightly at that, smiling at Stevie as scratches under the cat’s chin.
“Hmm, alright. You let me know when you reach your conclusion then.” A thick blink of silence falls between them, and Joel finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from hers, only breaking when she lets out a sigh.
“I didn’t just come over here to give you a hard time. Was actually hoping to cash in on that favor you owe me.” He sits up a little straighter at that, nodding.
“Alright, when did you wanna go out– I mean– not– go out– like– not like a–” She laughs, silencing his floundering.
“I know what you meant. And I was thinking the end of this week? Do you have time on Friday?”
“Uh-huh, yep. That’s my day off.” Her face falls.
“Oh, I don’t wanna take up your day off, I’m–”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m happy to help, really.” Her frown softens into a suggestion of a smile, and she nods.
“Well, alright. Thank you, Joel. You good to meet at the gates that morning?”
“I’ll be there, darlin. Sounds like a plan.” She grins.
“Until then, Joel.” She turns, hopping down from the porch step, before glancing over her shoulder to look at him.
“Oh, and don’t worry. I’m not gonna curse you. Not yet at least.” It’s so unexpected, he ends up choking on an inhale, but his coughing doesn’t drown out the sound of her laugh as she slinks away from his house. He’s so busy watching her saunter off that he doesn’t notice the cat jumping down from the railing, startling him when she starts twining between his legs. Stevie looks up at him, yellow eyes unblinking, as if she’s expecting something from him. He tentatively leans forward, holding out his open hand which the cat sniffs at before nudging her head into his palm, a low purr vibrating through her body.
“You gonna go tell her all my secrets, Stevie?” The cat looks up at him, head tilted. A little too human-like for Joel’s taste. She lets out a small mrrp, before going back to twining between his legs, sleek spine arching up into Joel’s hand. Then, just as quickly as she had appeared, she pads off down the steps of his porch and out into the night.
…
“Rumor has it you’re helping a certain lady out with some work up in the mountains tomorrow.” Joel huffs at his brother’s cocked eyebrow and crooked smirk. He takes a sharp swig of his drink before responding.
“Owe her a favor, that's all. And before you tell me I’m not gonna come back alive, I’ve already heard that from four other people this week.” That gets a laugh out of Tommy, his eyes glancing around the bar before focusing back on Joel.
“Nah, you’ll come back alive. It’s the days after when they always end up dead.”
“You serious?” Tommy shrugs.
“There’s been a couple of guys, sure. But if you ask me, that has more to do with the stories people believe than it does with her. What we believe, we create, brother. The mind is a powerful thing.” He punctuates his words with a tap of his fingers to his temple. Joel grumbles.
“Yeah, yeah, alright, wise ass. But you’re telling me there really have been men who’ve–”
“It’s all coincidence, Joel. Like I said, there have been a few guys who started chasing after her. Went up into the mountains with her, y’know, all romantic and shit. And then, well, it seems like every time, only a few days later, they wound up dead. But in every instance, it was a bad patrol shift that got them. S’just coincidence that it happened after they got with her.”
“How many coincidences?” Tommy sighs.
“Four. In the last four years or so.” Joel feels his brows lift at that.
“That’s a lot of fucking coincidences, Tommy.” Tommy shrugs.
“Look, folks always talk about how horrible it is that all these men died. And it is. But no one thinks to mention what that must have done to her. To like someone? Hell, maybe even love someone? And then not only have them taken away from you, but to then be blamed for it too? It’s fucking atrocious, man.” When Tommy finishes speaking, silence falls between them, Joel a bit stunned by the clear compassion Tommy speaks with about her.
“Why d’you even care? Why not join the crowd, huh?” Tommy frowns at that, twirling his liquor in his glass rather than looking at his brother.
“I didn’t tell you this– I mean, why would I? But, Maria had a pretty difficult pregnancy.” He takes a sharp inhale before continuing to speak.
“We weren’t sure if– if the baby– if we were gonna be ok. And she was there for us, through it all.” Joel can see the tears pooling in his brother’s eyes, glinting in the low light of the bar when he finally looks at him.
“I don’t know if we’d have our boy today if it hadn’t been for her. So yeah, I care about her. And I’ll side with her every time. And most folks will too, when push comes to shove. She’s done a lot for this community. But it’s easy to spread poison behind people’s backs. So that’s what they do.” Tommy sits back on his stool, sighing deeply.
“Suppose a lot of the men see her as a challenge, y’know? Steal a cursed kiss and live to tell the tale, or some bullshit like that. And the women see the men pining after her, and they don’t like that one bit. Either way, they talk, way more than they should.” Tommy throws back the last of his drink, wincing at the burn. Joel, meanwhile, is still trying to process everything his brother just told him.
“So should I tell the kid to start planning my funeral, or what?” Tommy laughs, shaking his head.
“Nah, I think you’re too much of a stubborn ass to let a rinky-dink curse sway you. Besides, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Joel squints at his brother.
“Why’s that?”
“You said you’re just doing a favor for her. She might not even like you enough to curse you, brother.”
…
Joel doesn’t sleep at all that night. His mind works over what Tommy told him again and again, trying to reach some sort of conclusion about everything he’s learned, and coming up short every time. He shuffles out in the early morning light, eyes bleary as he nears the gate. She, however, is chipper as anything, smiling broadly when she sees him.
“Hey there, you ready to go?” He nods, grumbling out a quiet affirmation, and then they’re off.
Most of the morning is spent in silence, hiking up into the mountains. Joel knows that it’s not infected they have to worry about, not out here. But raiders are a whole other story, so he keeps a steady hand on his rifle slung over his shoulder, letting her lead them a few paces ahead of him.
“You’re quiet this morning.” She glances at him over her shoulder as she speaks, eyebrow lifted.
“I’m thinking.”
“About?” He huffs, stopping where he stands in the underbrush of the woods. When she realizes he’s no longer following, she turns back around, hands on her hips as she looks at him.
“I just– I wish you’d give me some straight answers here. I’ve heard something different about you from just about everyone in town– and I’m not sure if I believe any of it. Just– please.” Her brow is furrowed, eyes squinted at him as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.
“What do you want from me, Joel?” He swallows hard, eyes glancing around the thick trees before looking back at her.
“The truth– I want the truth.” She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.” He has to laugh out of frustration at this little game they’re playing, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a low curse before focusing back on her.
“Alright, I’ll be specific. All those men that died. A lot of folks around town are convinced that you had something to do with it. S’that true?” When she speaks, Joel’s taken aback by her tone, her usual lightness replaced by a steeled stoicism.
“I had nothing to do with that. Any of it. The only curse that was on those men was their own goddamn minds buying into the town bullshit.” He’s inclined to believe her, judging by her unwavering gaze and the sure tilt of her chin as she speaks, but there’s still more that he needs to know.
“But you are– different. Aren’t you?” That coaxes a smile out of her, and she steps a bit closer to him.
“Different.” She says the word like a challenge, and he nods, taking his own steps closer to her.
“Is that your conclusion, Joel?” Both of them have their arms crossed over their chests, and they now stand so close that their forearms lightly brush.
“Starting to think I ain’t ever gonna reach a conclusion about you, darlin.” Her eyes crinkle, smile threatening to crook into a full-blown grin.
“Would that be such a bad thing? No conclusion?” It’s like magnets, the way their faces tilt, subtle shifts toward one another until he can feel the light air of her exhale across his mouth. He hums, a low sound in his chest.
“I think I’ll live.” He can practically feel the stretch of her grin at his words.
“I think you will too.” It happens as easily as a tide rolling in, languid in the way their lips slip together. His hands find the sweep of her jaw, pulling her in deeper, her palms splaying over his chest. He’s a little surprised when she swipes her tongue over the curve of his bottom lip, coaxing him open and tangling even closer with him. A woman has never taken charge like this with him, and it’s making his head spin. When she does pull away, he’s only a little embarrassed by the way he chases after her lips, stuttering into some sort of composure when she grins at him.
“For the record, you’re not wrong.” Not entirely sure what she means, he frowns at her, shaking his head. She laughs.
“I am different, Joel.”
“That wasn’t just a lucky guess, was it? About– about Sarah?” Her eyes soften, features dropping into a sad understanding. She slides her palms up from his chest to twine behind his neck.
“No, it wasn’t.”
…
“This is lemon balm.” She glances over her shoulder at him from where she’s crouched down, thumbing at a cropping of large, waxy leaves. He’s learned the names of more plants today than he could ever remember, though he still nods when she shows him a new one like he has any clue what it is.
“What do you use that for?”
“You dry it, and then you can brew tea with it. It’s calming– helps with sleep and stress. Or you can mix it into salve to treat cold sores. Though not many people in Jackson come to me with that problem.” She clips several leaves from the plant, carefully tucking them into her pack and slinging it over her shoulder as she stands back up.
They’ve been out all day, moving through the woods as she collects various plant snippings, explaining each one to him, how to use it and what its use is. And between them, a silent understanding has settled, even though Joel hasn’t asked anymore questions about her. But he knows that Tommy was right. Whatever she is, she’s a good one.
“We oughta head back soon. Sun’s starting to set.” She nods, wiping her hands off on the front of her jeans, and they easily step into stride with one another. They spend most of the hike back in a comfortable silence. Joel finds himself wanting to say something, ask something more, but always hesitating, mind hazy from the heat of the day, and from the stamped memory of the kiss they shared. Even if it was cursed, he reckons that he wouldn’t mind that.
“Joel? I want to say thank you.” He glances at her walking alongside him, the quick-fading light casting syrupy shadows across her features. He has to blink a few times to keep himself from staring.
“No need for thanks. I was happy to repay the favor.”
“No, that’s– that’s not what I meant. I mean– thank you for coming out today with me, I appreciate it. But– I wanted to thank you for– thinking for yourself– about me.” That makes him stop in his stride, turning to fully look at her as she does the same. They’ve just crested a hill, the gates of Jackson coming into view, and her eyes keep glancing back toward it, a nervous crease between her brows.
“It’s just– you’re right– I know everyone has something to say about me. And I guess I don’t have too many friends because of it. Most folks make up their minds about me before they even talk to me. So, thank you– for not doing that.” His chest twists at her words, the worried look scrunched across her face. He’d like to take the pain away that’s clear in her expression. And then, that tightness in his chest grows for a different reason, as he realizes that he’s already in far too deep with her. He has to clear his throat to shake away the thickening feeling, tentatively reaching his hand out to her, his fingers skating over the faint dip of her collarbone. He can see her breath catch at his touch, and he revels in it, letting his hand trail down her arm until their fingers are tangling together.
“You shouldn’t have to thank me for that. Whatever may or may not be true about you– no one deserves that. I just– why do you help them– when they treat you the way they do?” She sighs, squeezing his hand in hers, and giving a weak shrug of her shoulders.
“Because it’s what I’m good at. I always wanted to help people– and that’s what I get to do. Even if some of them are fucking dicks about it.” Her crassness catches him off guard, pulling a stuttering laugh from his chest as she grins. But she’s all seriousness again, clearing her throat, her brow pulling down.
“Suppose I should warn you now that they’ll talk about you too– if you stick around me. And I don’t blame you if you don’t want–” He’s heard enough, and does something entirely too bold by closing the distance between them to steal another kiss, her wide eyes meeting his when he pulls away.
“Don’t care what any of ‘em have to say about me, or about you. They can talk all they want, darlin.” He can feel the relief in her sigh. She nods, giving his hand one final squeeze before breaking away, continuing the walk back to town.
When they get back inside the gates, she offers him a small smile, her hands fidgeting with the straps of her pack.
“Thank you again. I really appreciated your help.”
“Like I said, it was no–”
“Well, well, well– what do we have here? Looks like she’s got Miller under her spell, boys!” The change in her demeanor is instant, face scrunching up as they both turn to see where the commentary is coming from. Joel recognizes the man, Mason, if he remembers right, and a small group of other guys he knows from past patrol meetings. They’ve all got a similar sneer across their faces, eyes zeroed in on her, and he has to fight the urge to step in front of her to get them to stop looking at her like that.
“Guess we better get another coffin ready, huh? Hate to break it to you, Miller. She may be pretty, but she ain’t nothing but bad news.” Joel’s fists clench at his sides, and as the men break into another howl of laughter, his feet start moving toward them before his brain can catch up. But she’s quick to step in front of him, hands pressing into his chest and eyes fierce.
“Don’t– it’s not worth it.” It’s immediate, the calm that washes over him with her words, though he still glares over her shoulder at the men, whose laughter has only escalated.
“Awww, she got you good, man! Hey, witchy-poo! What kinda magic you got working on Miller to have him so whipped?” And with that, Joel is ready to bash their heads in all over again, though she holds him back with her palms firm against the front of his shirt.
“Joel, it’s fine. They’re harmless, really.” He glances at the men one more time before finally focusing back on her, huffing as he nods. She gives him what she can of a smile, worry still pressed between her brows.
“I’ll see you soon, ok?” His hands flex at his sides, wanting more than anything to tuck her under his arm and walk off together, but he settles for another nod, and a whispered acquiescence. She’s gone in a blink, walking off to the hollering of the men behind her. Before he can do something stupid, Joel heads off in the opposite direction toward the Tipsy Bison. He needs a fucking drink.
…
Joel is nursing his second tumbler of whiskey when just about the last person he’d like to see sidles up next to him at the bar.
“Miller.” Mason sits down on the stool next to him, but Joel keeps his eyes on his swirling glass.
“Look, man, I’m sorry for giving you a hard time out there. But I’m trying to help you out.” Joel rests his elbows on the bar, glancing briefly at Mason.
“Don’t remember asking for your help, man.” Mason laughs, turning on his stool to fully face Joel, a stupid grin across his face.
“Well then you don’t know her as well as we all do. I meant what I said, y’know. She’s bad news.” Joel’s starting to feel that anger creeping up his throat, angling himself just slightly in Mason’s direction to get a good look at him.
“Son, I’ve heard enough stories this week to have a pretty good idea of just how full of shit you all are. I thought this was a community of decent people, really. But after being told one too many times about some ridiculous curse, I realize you’re nothing but fools and cowards.” Mason laughs again, and Joel’s a blink away from slapping the sound right out of his mouth.
“I’m not talking about that bullshit curse.” Joel squints at him.
“Come again?”
“That curse you’re referring to? I agree with you that it’s town nonsense. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” When Joel stays silent, Mason’s mouth stretches into a smile.
“She may not be sending men to their graves, but she ain’t so innocent either. See, she likes to meddle.”
“Meddle?” Mason nods.
“In other people’s business. Sure, she helps folks all the time. But that’s not all she’s doing in that shop of hers.” Joel huffs, getting tired of the way this man seems to be stringing him along.
“Talk plainly, son. It’s getting late.” Mason barks out a laugh, sliding off his stool before laying a hand on Joel’s shoulder, a squinted smile on his face.
“Why don’t you go see what she’s got cooking up in that kitchen of hers in the middle of the night. Because I can tell you right now, it ain’t fucking tea.”
#joel miller angst#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller au#joel miller series#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou
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i wonder if sonic ever talked to shadow about what happened with other shadow...
sonics not a huge "talking about feelings" guy, but i imagine seeing shadow---even a fake version version of him---begging him for help as he deteriorates, would mess him up a bit
when the others ask where sonics been for the past few days, he brushes it off. free as the wind, remember! he does his own thing! but i dont think shadow would buy it.
he probably brashly interrogates sonic, assuming he was off being irresponsible. when sonic snaps that no one would believe him if he told them, that catches shadows attention.
he probably softens, just by a hair, and demands to know what REALLY kept him away. when sonic describes the Other world, shadow doesnt laugh, or tell him off for making up lies like sonic expected him to. and when he brings up the other maria, any trace of irritation in shadows demeanor is replaced with quiet shock.
little blurb under the cut. (i lied its like a whole ass chapter)
"...Told ya you wouldn't believe me," Sonic huffed a humorless laugh. "Chaos, it sounds even more insane when I say it out-"
"I believe you."
Sonic's hand paused where it was exasperatedly wiping down his face. Emerald eyes blinked up at Shadow, the gloved hand now hovering aimlessly in midair.
"...Huh?"
"Don't give me that idiotic look, hedgehog," Shadow seemed to snap, but his voice lacked any sharp, incriminating edge, "You're not remotely creative enough to come up with a lie that elaborate."
"There's a compliment hidden in there somewhere, I can feel it."
Shadow's round ear flicked in irritation, his eyes rolling and his shoulders heaving as he sighed. Ruby eyes closed, brows furrowed, carefully planning his next words.
"I know how you behave when you lie. This is not one of those instances."
There was silence, save for the far-off twittering of Flickies, muffled by the canopy of the forest. The sun was sinking now, casting orange flares in both hedgehogs' eyes. Sonic sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Well, nothing to do about it now," he mumbled, "I'm sorry I said anything. Doesn't have anything to do with you guys-"
"You said this world seemed to be some exaggerated form of paradise for you, to some extent?"
The blue hedgehog was a bit taken aback by how calmly and objectively Shadow was going about this, but... hey, it was Shadow. He balked for a moment, stammering his explanation.
"I... I mean, I-I guess? I'm not sure how creepy button eyes is an ideal lifestyle but-"
"I'm serious, hedgehog."
Sonic sighed again, averting his eyes to the ground.
"I..." Sonic laughed shortly, devoid of warmth, and threw his hand up in surrender, "Sure, yeah. I guess that's what the thing was going for, but obviously that creepy doll hellscape thing is not my idea of paradise. But Shadow, why is this-"
"Do you think I would be happier if Maria was here?"
Sonic's heart dropped to his feet, and he felt his veins run cold. His body was still for a moment, then he shrugged. Then he started to speak. Then he cut himself off. Then he put a hand to his face and stared at the grass through his fingers. The hedgehog noted how close the toe of his shoe was to crushing a small pink flower. He took a step backwards, then looked up.
"I-I don't know, would you?"
"I'm asking you, Sonic."
The blue hedgehog gave a huff through his nose, shoulders slumping in defeat.
"I mean," he spoke quietly, digging a fang into his lip, "I guess so? I feel like it's pretty natural to wish we didn't have to lose people we care about."
Sonic's thoughts flitted to his parents. He brushed it away for now.
Shadow looked thoughtful, deadpan, brows furrowed and eyes staring vaguely at the grass in front of him. Sonic didn't know why he felt like he was poking a grizzly bear. He knew he and Shadow had a tendency to compete rather than talk, so he supposed he expected the black hedgehog to dart off or hurl a Chaos Spear at his skull.
"I don't think I would be."
Sonic blinked in surprise, the tension dropping from his shoulders from when he'd braced himself for an attack. Shadow seemed surprised at his own answer.
"As dear as Maria is to me," the hybrid continued slowly, as if his words were an elaborate chess strategy, "As much as she would've loved this planet, and you---" Sonic felt a pang in his chest. "--what's done is done. If I could speak to her one last time, I would do so in an instant. But..."
Shadow looked solemn. He sighed again.
"It would be selfish of me, to undo the permanence of death. This planet is as dangerous and ruthless as it is beautiful. If people did not have mercy on the ARK, it would be no different here. Her illness would be expedited, and there would be nothing for me to do."
"But what if--"
"The best thing that I can do for Maria is keep this planet safe in her name. That is all."
Twilight now stained the sky softly purple, the faintest glimpse of stars beginning to flicker into existence, and the sinking light cast sunken shadows on the black hedgehog's tired face. Sonic figured talking like this was a fairly herculean effort. The chilled wind softly ruffled their quills. Instinctively, Sonic wanted to lighten the mood by making a jab about Doctor Frankenstein, or Night of the Living Dead, but taking one look at Shadow's exhausted face, he knew it wasn't the time.
The silence was tenuous, both hedgehogs unsure what to do with their feelings out in the open.
Sonic thought about how wrong the Other world had been, how uncanny and fundamentally terrifying it all was. He knew that thing, the puppet made of string and buttons and false fur...it wasn't really Shadow. But it still tried to help him. It was still Shadow's voice begging him not to leave, not to do this to him, not again. He knew the pain in its expression as the little girl in the blue dress unraveled was far from fake. As much as that fake world tried to create happiness, the only real, raw thing? Had been that pain.
Deep down, Sonic thought Shadow deserved to be a bit selfish, at least in this hypothetical, fantastic situation they'd created. And Sonic had the feeling that Shadow really, really wants to be as well. But, ever the realist, he doesn't even allow himself the fantasy. At least that's Sonic's guess. Maybe he's just projecting his savior complex again.
"Race ya home, faker?"
But Sonic also knows that living in a past as painful as Shadow's can be dangerous.
"You mean my home, or the fox's lab you sleep on the floor of?" Shadow smirks challengingly.
He's watched it consume Shadow before.
"That's a low blow!"
It's probably better off for both of them to just live in the present.
"Last one to Rouge's buys drinks?"
Shadow may not have his sister with him anymore, but, maybe the new normal isn't horrible.
"Oh, you're so on! I can taste my victory Shirley Temple already!"
"A Shirley Temple, are you a child?"
Maybe this freedom is what Maria wanted for him all along.
"You're gonna be crying like one when you lose!"
Shadow hmph's with a grin as his skates spark to life, glowing even brighter beneath the now inky black sky. With no warning, he darts off, leaving billowing ripples in the grass behind him. Sonic gapes for a moment, before his mind catches up and he peels away with an eager smile.
The blue hedgehog slows up near the end of their race, if only to see Shadow's victorious expression as Rouge opens the club door.
#holy fuck this got long#sonics savior complex goes crazy#shadows resolve to move on from his past goes crazy#hits the griddy#racing as therapy#dumb boys talking about feelings and stuff ewww#answered asks#writing#drabble#sonic#sonic au#coraline au#shadow the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#sonic fanfiction#text#sonadow#??#i guess#i love writing oughfhf i forgot
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Chores
Image - Wallpaper flare
Joel Miller x F!reader
Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, explicit smut, 10 year age gap, reader is 30, Joel is 40
A/N - I haven’t written smut in months, be kind lmfao. Think I needed a change from the COD boys for a bit.
———
Jackson. The small town you’d called home, but it wasn’t really. It wasn’t your farm house, your father wasn’t in the barn tending to the horses, your mother wasn’t folding the clean linens, a smell you missed so dearly. Your cat wasn’t curled into a tight ball by the open fire.
No. This wasn’t your home. But it had to do.
10 years had passed since the outbreak, everyone you’d ever known, everyone you’d ever cared about wiped out in the first week. You’d survived this far purely on luck. Luck and some very questionable food.
Jackson was a busy little town, everyone had a role, everyone had a job to do. Nothing was out of place. That was until Joel Miller turned up. You were close with his brother Tommy and his wife Maria, whom you worked with in the town bar.
You’d danced around each other for weeks, nervous conversations, furtive glances over the creaking old bar, awkward smiles and lingering touches. His umber eyes twinkled every time he met your gaze, the wrinkles next to his eyes deepened with every smirk.
Much to everyone’s annoyance neither of you had the confidence to ask one another for a drink. That was until you’d had some issues in your house and Tommy ever so kindly sent Joel to help out.
You fixed him a cup of coffee while you explained what needed tending too. ‘So, I have a leaky faucet in the bathroom, one of the stairs is rotting, and the plumbing under the kitchen sink is on its way out. I can manage, I didn’t mean for Tommy to send you over’ you said exasperated, hiding your blush beneath your hand. As you handed him his coffee, your fingers grazed his. Warm and inviting.
Scratching the back of his neck he smiled at the floor, ‘it’s no trouble darlin, happy to help.’ The pet name sent ripples through you, straight to your thighs. ‘Where shall we start?’ He asked, sipping his coffee.
‘What ever is easier for you. I’ve got tools and supplies ready. But maybe the bathroom? It probably just needs tightening.’
Joel nodded and followed you upstairs. You showed him into the bathroom, his body pressing against yours as he passed. Heat radiated from his body, penetrating your own. You’d never been this close before, heat pooled in your thighs again as you clenched them together. An unmistakeable ache throbbed from within.
Joel sank to his knees as he opened the small cupboard, his thighs forcing themselves against the seams of his jeans. As he led on his back his shirt lifted slightly, a trail of dark hair disappeared beneath the waist band. You bit your lip as you watched him writhe on the floor, muscles tensed, rippling beneath his skin.
‘Yeah, just looks like a few bolts need tightening is all. Noticed anything wrong with the pressure?’ His voice was muffled from within the cupboard. You were so focused on his body you hadn’t even noticed him speaking to you. Completely pre-occupied with the painful ache in your pussy. ‘Hey?’
‘Oh! Sorry. No I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary’ you shrugged. He continued to try and fix the sink, the clanging of tools against pipes echoed in the bathroom. You allowed your eyes to travel further than his waist, desperately trying to imagine what was underneath his jeans. Your heart fluttered at the thought, your stomach twisting itself into knots at the inappropriate thoughts you were having.
You were too busy daydreaming that you initially didn’t notice the pipe burst. Freezing cold water suddenly permeated your skin, causing you to yelp. ‘Oh shit!’ He yelled, scrambling to find the wrench. ‘Joel!’ You squealed, unable to contain your laughter. Dropping to your knees you grabbed the wrench and gave it to him, trying to contain the water. Giggles erupted from you both, fumbling over each other’s bodies to try and stop the sudden surge of water.
Joel scrambled to tighten the bolt, his giggles muffled within the relentless stream. As the water slowly died down, he glanced over to you, water slowly trickled along his neck. Your breath hitched in your throat, panties suddenly soaking with your arousal as you dropped your gaze. Your heart thrummed in your chest, threatening to burst through your ribs.
A sudden warmth on your lip forced you back to reality. Joel cupped your jaw, the rough pads of his thumb caressed your soft lips. Butterflies surged in your stomach as you leant into his touch. Tentatively you placed your hand on his abdomen, the sodden t-shirt exaggerating his firm body beneath your fingertips.
His body jerked slightly, your touch singing his skin. There was a pull between you, sudden, jarring, like two magnetic forces aligning. You searched his face for any inkling of what he was thinking, but you were met with his unfaltering gaze. Slowly he sat up, inching his body closer to yours.
Bit by bit.
Inch by burning inch.
Your lips parted slightly, a shaky breath fell from between them. Moving your hand you rested it on his chest, feeling his own heart furiously pounding from beneath. The cool temperate of his shirt was a stark contrast to the searing heat from his body.
He weaved his hand to the base of your neck, caressing your cheek as he did so. Dropping your eyes to his lips you silently pleaded with him to kiss you. He edged his lips closer to yours, his breath fanning gently over your face.
Deciding to hurry things along you pressed your lips against his, both sighing into the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft, his beard tickled your upper lip as you positioned yourself on top of him. You sank down, placing yourself in his lap, thighs meshed together finally becoming one. His jaw cautiously coaxed yours open, slipping his tongue inside.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as you ground your aching core against him. He groaned into your mouth as he deepened the kiss, gripping onto your hips urging you grind on top of him. Scraping your nails along his neck and scalp, your tongues furiously danced together as you pushed and pulled against one another.
He pulled back, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. ‘Off’ he ordered pulling at your saturated top. Smiling, you eagerly removed it, throwing it in satisfying slap on the tile floor. He removed his own, finally allowing you bestow your eyes on his burly physique. Hair dusted his chest and abdomen, muscles faintly visible as the chill of the air grazed his skin.
Tapping your thighs you wrapped them around his waist, he stood with seemingly no effort at all. Smiling into another kiss you nipped at his bottom lip, pushing him, urging him to go further. He placed you onto the bathroom counter, his hands making quick work of your bra. You wrapped your fingertips into his waistband, yanking him in between your thighs.
The once tender kiss had turned into a desperate sloppy mess. Both fighting for air as you slipped your tongues in and out of each others mouths. A soft whimper escaped you as he palmed your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingertips.
The bathroom was silent, bar the noise of your desperate kisses and stolen breaths.
But you wanted more. Needed more.
You made quick work of his jeans button, revealing his boxers and the outline of his throbbing cock. ‘Take it’ he whispered as he trailed his lips to your neck, nipping and kissing gently. Sliding your hand into his boxers you were pleasantly surprised by his girth, he hissed at your touch. You began to work his cock in your hand as he sighed into your neck, ‘fuck, just like that. That’s it.’
He used his tongue to pull your ear lobe into his mouth, pressing his teeth down, adding just the right amount of pressure. You smiled into his neck, his natural scent infiltrating your senses. His hips began to grind into your hand, causing the ache in the pit of your stomach to surge. Desperation turned to obsession.
With lightening speed he pulled from your grip, grabbing your waist and pushing your torso into the cold marble counter. The sudden change of temperature caused you to hiss between your teeth as you clenched your thighs together. Joel pulled your leggings down to your knees and kicked your legs apart with force. ‘Oh, darlin’ he chucked to himself, ‘that all for me?’
Your glistening folds started at him, screaming to be touched. You couldn’t find any words so instead smirked back at him, arching your back. He ran his hands along your waist and to your ribs, straightening your arms to grip your wrists. As he did, he dragged his tongue along your spine. You moaned into the counter top, your hot breath condensing on the freezing surface.
Releasing your wrist he snaked his fingers into your hair, arching your back further to kiss you. He was tender once more, before he moved his hand to your jaw forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. ‘Watch sweetheart’ he drawled, his southern accent thicker than molasses and sweeter than honey.
Lining up his cock he pushed into your pussy, ‘alright … fuck … alright’ he panted as his breath was sucker punched right from his gut. Your jaw fell open at the stretch, watching as he threw his head back, exposing his muscular neck. His thrusts began slow, tortuous and purposeful. Allowing you to adjust to his size.
His eyes found yours in the mirror, pupils blown wide, eyes black and possessive. ‘I can take it Joel, please’ you whimpered as you sucked on his fingers that held your jaw in place. ‘Christ’ he said, choking on his breath. You ran your tongue along his thick fingers, saliva dripping down your chin as he increased his pace. Eyes never faltering from yours.
‘Pussys so tight sweetheart. Been a while since you been fucked huh?’ His voice was cocky as he smirked at you, eyes glinting in the low light of the room. ‘Mmhmm’ you groaned, relishing in the sweet burn of his cock. The slapping of skin rang out in the empty house, the sweet undertones of your whines, and bass filled rasps from his throat ricocheted off the wooden walls.
Lifting your thigh he placed it onto the counter, opening your cunt further, pushing himself deeper. Screwing your eyes shut you used your free hand to play with your clit. Snatching his fingers from your mouth he gripped your jaw again’ told you to watch darlin, don’t make me ask again.’ Your eyes snapped open, mouth agape, struggling for air.
His pace became punishing, ‘fuck, harder Joel, harder.’ Working your fingers in firm circles, you desperately tried to chase your orgasm. Your muscles began to tighten, but not before you noticed Joel’s pace become sloppy. ‘What the matter? Been a long time baby?’ You teased, pouring up at him in the mirror. ‘Such a smart mouth. Oh sweetheart I ain’t done yet.’
‘No? Then make me cum Joel’ you purred. Smacking your hand out of the way he pressed his own fingers into your clit, reading your body effortlessly. Grabbing your throat with his free hand he pulled you flush to his body. Angling his cock to his your sweet spot as he watched you squirm beneath his grip. He grunted in your ear, his breath burning your skin.
Your muscles tightened, white noise took over your hearing as your orgasm washed through you. You whined and ground your hips back into him, voice cracking from the pressure. ‘So pretty darlin. Goddamn, feels so good’ he whimpered as he nipped your neck. A string of expletives dripped from your lips as you tried to gather yourself.
He pushed you onto the counter once more, pulling out he stroked his cock as he came on your lower back. His head dropped as he grunted, hoarse and breathless. The hot milky fluid gathered in the dimples of your back as you studied him in the mirror. His brow furrowed as he rode out his high, lips plump and red, your pussy clenched at the sight.
Once he’d come down his eyes returned to that gentle glow you loved. He smiled awkwardly as he used a towel to clean you up, before his placed a tender kiss on your spine. ‘Wanted to do that since first time I laid eyes on you’ he admitted, cheeks flushed. Cupping his face you placed a soft kiss on his lips, ‘got two more chores to do yet cowboy.’
#the last of us smut#the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#Joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#fan fic smut
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Hang on to Your Love
Feelings kept secret can’t stay a secret forever when other people get in the way. Fem!reader Jealous!Ellie Jackson!Ellie hint of loser!ellie purefluff CW!creep ass man makes a short appearance 5k W.C
AN; Originally this was going to be a short cute story but I really wanted to give with this one, because I LOVE fall. Really sorry for being gone so long, I got a bad haircut and I swear some negative energy was clinging onto me, so it made me insane for a bit. I move on so I’m better and thriving again now though💕
Autumn was in its early days still beginning to settle into Jackson, the cooler evenings accompanied by the refreshing winds that brushed over your skin. The perfect season for a dance to be sprung onto. Flyers hung around town, you’d seen it was set outside at 7:00 a little while after the sun set four days from now. It wasn’t necessary for you to arrive with a partner for the dance, but if given the chance you already knew the perfect candidate to fill the position in mind.
Initially you wouldn’t take her to come around to these sort of events. Come to change, a few days earlier you’d coincidentally happen to over hear Ellie’s conversation with Jesse and Dina outside the Tipsy Bison. Heavy reminiscence on her last comment about the Autumn dance,
“Just because she’d be there, it won’t change anything, not interested in going. Most we’ve talked is a few passing ‘hey’s’.”
It was disheartening to hear her talk about some girl you didn’t know,
Small pieces of her life that you were able to get a glimpse of, made being around her all the less intimidating. How enamored the high skies of space Ellie was, the type of video games she’d bring back, or even the clothes she dressed in. There wasn’t much to go off of when you’ve hurt to have a complete conversation with Ellie.
Regardless Ellie was right even if it wasn’t about you, most spoken words between you weren’t much nor meaningful. If it was anyone besides Ellie you wouldn’t be mulling over so long if you should bite the bullet and ask her out. To you she was everything you’d wished for, having feelings this intense was nauseatingly tiresome. With each day that flew away sleeping on the idea of taking action to get to know Ellie, felt like opportunity slipping away just as time is. You couldn’t expect her to stay single for long, she’s dated previously what’s stopping her now?
”You and Ellie are partners this time round, good with that?”
Maria thought it’d be good to group you with a girl that knew what she was doing while doing it exceptionally well. Expect you’d hate to be such a crutch to Ellie because of the delayed training you missed out on, of sheer fear that stemmed from being sheltered too long.
”yeah, no problem.”
There wasn’t anything to have a problem with if you’d just excuse your need for Ellie. Up to this point she didn’t completely disregard your existence, small occurrences like holding out the door open made you believe she’d think of you in the slightest, enough to be polite to.
The thought of spending time with Ellie alone even with the circumstances outside of Jackson’s security was exciting to look forward to. Preselecting topics and materials to make small talk with, patrol isn’t an ideal time to get to know someone better but you’ll take what you can get in these circumstances.
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Brightly in a red marker ink circle enclosed the date of the patrol date with Ellie on the calendar pinned above your nightstand, marked day being today. Dressing up particularly cute wouldn’t do good in terms of practicality, but you had other reasons for dressing so. You weren’t naive of the terrors waiting, lurking, outside of Jackson’s walls just as anyone else was.
Your choice of outfit for today were bootcut jeans with ribbons shaped into dainty bows tied to the belt loops. A ribbed long sleeved top in a solid color of brown, the bottom of the sleeves were flared out while the rest of the shirt stayed close in a snug fit.
Maybe you had arrived earlier than settled on, surely, because Ellie was starting to become a no show. Perked up right besides the stables doorframe, facing towards the inside, counting the minutes go by. Dina’s distant voice broke the fluid count of time you’d been mentally ticking by. Anyone would’ve been able to tell she was being so quiet intentionally with her hushed tone while speaking to someone else. You weren’t meant to hear her nor the words of advice she was aiding, but you couldn’t help being a standby could you?
“She’s been waiting for you in there for a while now! Seriously, you can’t stall any longer without being suspicious.” Dina knew exactly what this was about, Ellie’s whole unwillingness to go out on patrol with you was painfully obviously.
“I know I know, but I just need a bit longer and I’ll get right to-“ hearing the detest Ellie was expressing felt disappointing in a way that made your heart ache.
“No, Ellie. Go over there already, standing over here isn’t going to change anything.”
Ellie’s sigh was louder than their entire conversation. Then the words you were hearing so clearly became tedious whispers that had you leaning closer to decipher, with no luck as to knowing which one was speaking.
They couldn’t possibly know you were listening in, right?
Calm anticipation couldn’t overcome the hurdle of sudden nervousness when footsteps became closer. Thing was, you knew Ellie’s footsteps and the approaching steps didn’t belong to her. You’d turned back to face outside though not to Ellie, but to Dina’s consoling face.
”Ellie’s caught something and she’s stuck sick at home right now,”
it was all crap, every single word. Seeming so against you that she couldn’t stand having to go on patrol with you, Ellie lied about sickness as a get a way. Standing there silently to question every short moment you’ve encountered her, trying to recount if you did or said something wrong to ward her off so strongly.
“Oh well, that’s okay. Tell her I said to get better soon.”
You didn’t mean the condolence, the small smile you responded Dina with didn’t help in hiding that fact. Especially not when Ellie was probably snug inside by now spending her new found time freely, relived of being able to opt out so suddenly. This was by far the most embarrassing stand up you’ve been able to experience, as much as you didn’t want to be affected by her flakiness it irked you just as much if not more in efforts of trying to shrug it off.
Dina nodded and excused herself first, at least she was aware how childish Ellie was handling the situation. At times like these it was so easy to be jealous of Dina, how close her bond with Ellie was. Being able to spend time with Ellie by watching movies or just having her as company were few of those reasons. Though you were never mad at her for it. More so at yourself for letting your feelings keep you from making any move.
When Dina was out of view from where you stood, you followed out feeling defeated. The marked calendar felt like such a foolish thing to do, how excited you became when you could tick off another day, getting closer to the patrol.
It was debatable if the walk back home to the mess that was an outcome of frantically scrambling to figure out your outfit, or waiting so excited like a hopeless lovesick fool was more embarrassing. Had you kept to your own business you would’ve been able to cope in ignorant bliss, unaware of Ellie’s determination to avoid you. Crushing any unfortunate leaf that happened to be in your way on the ground with heavy steps was the best you could do to express how upset this made you.
Of course she had no obligation to happily spend her time with you, but the extent of Ellie’s actions was doing more than enough to prove her dislike. Reflecting just on today, it was evident you’d have to settle for a new dance partner.
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Ellie groaned into her pillow when she heard extensive loud knocking, already knowing who it was and why it was for. You were right about Ellie being snug inside, leisurely painting on the floor beside the short coffee table, using the time she was meant to be with you to practice a hobby.
If it was possible, Ellie would have prolonged opening the door to her garage room to escape Dina going off on her. She rubbed her eyes using her thumb and index finger, this was punishment for not dealing with you today, rather she’d have to deal with Dina’s confrontational lecture. Right upon unlocking the door Dina began,
“Seriously Ellie, what’s gotten into you.”
She’d allowed herself inside, taking her designated spot on the couch. Looking down onto the table, there sprawled out next to different paints in jars and a messy paint pallet was a painting Ellie was spending careful time to finish. It looked more detailed than any of her previous paintings, paint strokes still wet from recent application creating the girl on the canvas.
“Hey I dodged a bullet by doing that, I wouldn’t have been able to put in all my concentration,” now it was Ellie’s turn to be embarrassed.
Her skills were truly ones to be boasted about, but faltered the moment she was stuck partnered on patrol with a pretty girl. The girl she’s kept her eyes on from the first day of her arrival.
Of course Ellie made a distinct entry that day, made sure to not leave any detail out about your appearance or the way you’d greet others that day, including her. Describing just how sweet everything about you was, so sweet it distracted from what you told her, she’d failed to listen to the first words between you two.
Now it was acting all tough until the moment Ellie’s emotions become overwhelming, clouding both her judgment and competence. She knew exactly what she felt, but tried with everything to disregard it all because of the fear that rejection would hurt much more sourly than never confessing at all.
”Don’t start now, she looked hurt when I broke it to her that you’d called out sick.”
“Maybe she was looking forward to exploring around or something-“
“No Ellie, she was excited to see you.”
The sheer question if you looked at her back with the same feelings sent Ellie over the edge. She kicked up her foot, cracking the knuckles of her fingers one by one. How much time has passed and your relationship with Ellie hasn’t progressed at all? She’d be lucky to even call it a relationship, small talk was a hard thing since the first years of you being in Jackson.
”yeah well, you don’t know that for sure.”
Ellie slumped her back onto the bed looking up at the wooden ceiling, the position she should’ve been if she was truly sick. Dina couldn’t bother to deal with Ellie’s stubbornness when the topic was you specifically. Because she knew Ellie was almost helpless when it came to you.
Exhausted from the topic of you by how much denial and stubbornness it’d be met with, Dina propped herself up from the couch before looking over at Ellie, spitefully replying to her small attitude,
“Oh I think I know, at least come by the dance go say hi.”
Upon Dina walking out and shutting the door Ellie kept her spot, the stunt she just pulled probably set her way back in means of getting more familiar with you. Letting out a low groan again, it was hard to decide to show up. Seeing you would only have her ridden with guilt. Ellie didn’t know to believe Dina’s beliefs or not. She was hopeful, but failed to be certain.
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Staring straight forward into your own reflection in the vanity was where your mind couldn’t rest on the long debate that was if going to the dance was still a good idea. Held up in knots going over each pro and con there could’ve possibly been, you’d already spent the time perfecting the look for tonight. Only to feel hesitant, and it was all Ellie’s fault. The few days after the incident, it was completely insufferable to face or hear any news about Ellie. Each time it would only make the feelings of embarrassment mixed with bitter defeat resurface.
“She shouldn’t be showing up anyways.”
Is what got you to settle on going out with the prerogative to have a little fun, determined to not let your crushed feelings take away from a good time. After all the wait for the dance it would be a spoil of time to stay in.
Because the party was outside people were more sprawled out, making it harder to see every single person attending. High hanging warm lights were strung from building to building in a zigzag pattern, they illuminated the incoming night that was creeping up. A table took space in the middle in front of everything, each spot of the table being covered with some sort of food or drink, leaned up on it’s ledges was Jesse and Dina talking to Joel.
Joel looked rough on the exterior with the way he would carry himself, but truly was a kind type at heart. You’d only gotten a few chances to chat with him, a little less than with Ellie. He’d only remind you of Ellie with how close they are, so you set it in your mind to clearly stay away from all three of them for the rest of the night.
A few speakers were synced together playing Sades Hang on to your love, just standing there cemented lost and doe eyed would do you no good. Staying home inside the comfort of your room would have been preferable, thinking maybe it would’ve looked a bit awkward to dance alone. Maybe you could ask one of the girls there you were friends with, amidst the cloud of thought a man invitingly lent out a hand. You’d seen him around a few times, wearing dark navy jeans and a black sueded cowboy hat, you accepted thinking you had nothing to lose.
In heaven’s name, why are you walking away?
Dancing with him was purely for fun, no strings attached to you, but for him, his eyes spoke that he was in it for something. Letting his hands cling to the sleeves of your shirt, his touch was a little irritating. Already starting to regret your choice to agree to dance, more specifically with a man. You tried to disregard the slight discomfort and continued to move along with his moves to at least entertain yourself by dancing. By now, the man’s hands on your arms begun steering you right to the center of the dance floor, which essentially was just an open dirt plot right in-front a certain table.
Hang on to your love
In a few footsteps he’d successfully made it close to unbearable for you to dance along now that you’ve made it to the prime viewing spot for everyone in the surrounding crowd. Uncomfortable with both his handling and everyones eyes set on the show he was making out of this. Of course in that crowd she had to be stood against there to that table, in those jeans that were starting to scuff from continued wear and fading flannel. Using quick stolen glimpses to catch the sight of Ellie when he’d spun you round.
In heaven’s name, why do you plays these games?
It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide how distressed you were. Urgently wanting to escape only to bolt it back to your home. You were heating up because you knew by now, Ellie had been staring directly at you, visibly displaying exactly how unhappy she was with the situation. Crossed arms and legs, eyebrows dipping into a slight angry arch. Ellie was whispering something over to her right hand man, Jesse.
“Out of everyone here, why are they dance partners? It’s not like they know each other.”
“And you know that how?”
Ellie’s appearance at the dance was meant to solely be a quick passing, is what she swore to herself at least. Getting caught up in being witness to whatever you were found doing with that man had sidetracked her. Ellie knew from his stares he had intentions outside of having fun, nothing could be lead to coincidence with him especially. Ellie was aware of his reputation of going through plenty of women in short periods of time, immediately latching onto someone new after the last.
“Doesn’t matter, either way I can’t stop her.”
“How about getting over there and steal her back, or are you still hung up?”
Take your time if the going gets rough
The grip he had on you got tighter, he tried pressing his body further to yours by making a his hand placement lower to your hips. Every move he continued to act on making you all the more irritated. None of this is what you wanted, and Ellie’s stare only added fuel to fire. She didn’t want to go out on patrol together with you the previous day, why is she out of all people dishing out the judgmental looks?
so if you want it to get stronger you’d better no let go
“Your guess is as good as mine, I just can’t, be near her like that.”
For every thing Ellie wished she could do and say, is another longing stare of hers that graced you. Blaming the fear to approach you on the nausea effect that didn’t budge no matter what you tended to have on her.
“you’re not getting anywhere staring all crazy at her.”
Eventually the man had noticed how absent minded from the situation you were in, with your eyes glued straight past him clasped in his arms. Speaking up for the first time, some sparse voice pulled you back into the moment.
“Who’s got you distracted huh?”
hold tight, don’t fight
“Nothing, I was just zoning out a bit.”
He didn’t buy it, he reclined his torso back and away, allowing for an easier spin on his heel to see who had you so entranced just now.
”Oh come on not that dyke that came from wherever with her old man.”
Instantly he let go away, recoiling away immediately. His face had contorted into a disgusted expression directed at the both of you, Ellie for knowing and being Ellie and you for simply looking at Ellie.
“Men can’t get no breaks in this world.” A thick mouthful of saliva was spat onto the dirt next to your feet leaving from the center having you deserted there alone. A few surrounding people looked shocked looked at what had unraveled there while others looked away.
Hang on to your love
Ellie stayed put in her same spot, deciding it was better now or never to take your chances. Possessing feelings that felt too similar to love, only to hush and silence them away each night wasn’t getting any easier. Ellie’s eyes darted away the moment she saw you beginning to walk right over to her.
in heaven’s name, why are you walking away?
”Why didn’t you show up to patrol with me that day? I know you weren’t sick so don’t even use that excuse.”
Confrontation wasn’t your usual way of dealing with things, but the time spent conflicted as to feel about Ellie wore on you. One day you were swearing there was a chance for things to be mutual, only to change your mind the next.
“I don’t know where you’re getting at because I was sick.” To Ellie it was clear now that you heard everything she told Dina outside the stable.
“I heard you outside whispering you know, honestly Ellie what do you have against me?”
“Nothing! Look I did ask for her to cover for me, but it’s only cause I had something to do at home.” She slid her thumbs to hang out from the front pockets changing her stance to loosen.
”what we’re you so busy with?” You didn’t mean to come off as stern as you did, from then on Ellie started to sound less confident with each word that would come out her mouth.
”Something back in my room, it’s noth-“
“Let’s go see it then.”
Right then you start walking straight to her room, picking up your pace when Ellie called out your name behind you. You knew where she stayed at, catching her with Dina and Jesse walking in and out of the small shed that sat off to the left of the main house on a few occasions. Initially she didn’t believe you were serious, so she waited a while longer before starting to walk as well. Ellie caught up quickly but you were faster, sprinting closer to the door illuminated by the hanging light besides it.
Once you’d got ahold of the doorknob it easily opened to your luck, it was typical in Jackson to leave doors open because how people trusted one another as a community. Immediately you slammed the door shut upon putting two steps inside to Ellie’s room. With a quick click it had been locked to make sure she stayed out while you got to the bottom of this.
On the other side Ellie banged on the door with her whole palm repeatedly,
“Hey get the hell out!”
“I’m trying to see what was so important you had to ditch me and not tell me anything about it.”
”I’m sorry okay? I promise next time I won’t run out on you like that.”
She was basically pleading by now aware that you had the upper hand, you had every power to leisurely look through her whole life that was stored in her room. Standing there felt childish now that you’d caught your breath leaving you time to reflect what happened and what you did. Ellie ran over to the side of the shed to where the windows were, she put her hands up to the glass scanning the room for you,
“if you let me in now I’ll show you, I swear.”
She sounded sincere in her soft tone, rummaging Ellies room wouldn’t be right regardless how upset you were so you nodded and unlocked the door for her. Moving aside to give her space to walk in. Mumbling getting through she spoke again,
“Let me go grab it, it’s over by the coffee table.”
Now that everything calmed you could properly look around to see how Ellie’s room looked. The type of posters hung from the walls, above an unmade bed a cork board pinned photos of her friends and drawings adorned it. It was a little confusing why Ellie wasn’t mad or screaming for you to get out. It was pretty quiet in the small room, only a small faint strain of music from the party was keeping it from dead silence. The air was thick, closing in on the both of you.
“I would’ve showed you it if you asked without having to lock me out you know.” Ellie was still turned away from you, holding onto a medium sized board that she picked up from the rug. A few paintbrushes were drying on a towel next to the glass jar of murky grey water.
“No you wouldn’t,” lightheartedly you laughed trying to ease your nerves that arose from being alone with her away from anyone else.
“yeah,” returning a small laugh she turned to you, time felt slow in this moment as if everything itself was prolonged outside the rules of time with Ellie’s footsteps slowly approaching. Her laughter alleviated some of the tension the air carried.
Ellie didn’t say anything at first, she let you see what turned out to be canvas with you painted sitting down reading a book, propping your head up with your left arm on your knee with the book tucked into your lap. Never would have you guessed Ellie taken long enough to look at you long enough to get the amount of details she’d painted so perfectly. That’s exactly what you’d describe the painting her hands created, perfect.
“Ellie..” Lost in the soft colors that were painted into you, you were for certain on how you felt about Ellie.
With lack of response she was quick to defensively speak up, “You just looked like a good reference, I wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything-“
“it’s beautiful,”
You were unsure what to say or even do, Ellie stood there looking back at you under your jurisdiction continuing to wait on you. She’d hate to admit what she was so scared about your reaction or rejection, because it was only then that the feelings would sink to only decay inside the pit of her stomach to linger.
“Thanks,” Ellie’s composure was gone, visible by how nervous her smile looked. Considering how she took the effort to paint you, it was time to do something that had been long overdue. Putting down the painting to lean on itself against the wall freeing your hands, you find them a new place on Ellie’s shoulders. Slightly towering above you with her height, being able to see her up close in such a tender hold felt like a sweet of blessing.
”When I saw you for the first time I knew it was going to be you, and it has been since then.”
Ellie’s eyebrows cinched together in confusion unaware of the weight your words held.
”it’s been only you, nobody else has ever came close, because I like you the most.”
Ellies lips gapped open ready to let out to spill her unspoken words upon fully processing what you meant. She had wished to tell you that accumulated over time, except they only came out in silence.
Hearing your confession to her, was her own sweetest blessing. Instead of staying silent any longer Ellie let her actions talk for her, plunging right into a kiss. The muscles in her lips kneaded at your own desperately like to makeup for every kiss that was missed in the time that you could’ve spent together before today. Each passing day she could’ve only yearned to feel you as intimately as tonight. This was felt in the way she was making out with you now.
Leaning further into the kisses to savor the taste and smell you carried, and sure enough you were the same way, pushing further into her too. A strand of hair slipping out from the ear Ellie tucked behind tickled the side of your face.
Gasping for air after the both of you’d succumb to shortness of breath. Ellie’s lips were a softer shade of pink from the circulating blood by how much pressure she had used to press onto your lips. Before you could Interject again she plunged back into you, this time her trembling hands cupping the plush of your cheeks, which then stabilized themselves on you. you didn’t resist Ellie’s lips, rather you moved at the same rate. Her left hands fingertips slightly callused by the guitar Joel had gifted. Each kiss was passionate, becoming more sloppier and quicker paced than the last one.
Nothing else mattered here against the warmth that radiated from Ellie, her pulsing heartbeat was felt by your own chest. Through flesh and bone, you could’ve sworn your hearts could feel the love you both shared for each other. You knew perfectly in your mind that this was meant to be, and Ellie had loved you ever since you fell too.
Ellie gently pulled away to whisper in that hoarse soft voice, “This better than dancing with him?”
She sounded so tantalizing, having you in her hands all to herself. No one would ever be able to have you the way Ellie did, and for that she felt prouder than ever. The doubt for any connection that could’ve been there in the days and years prior to today, was overcast by Ellie’s pure bliss right now.
You smiled while pressing foreheads together, letting the air from Ellie’s breathing fall onto your face. Chests falling up and down in a few seconds of quietness before replying,
“Better than you could ever know.”
“Oh I think I do know,” squeezing you tighter followed smaller frantic kisses below your eyes, between your eyebrows, and cheek. You reflected her actions onto each bronze or dark brown freckle Ellie had scattered across her face.
Finishing, Ellie pulled you to walk to her bed by her hands connected behind your neck, bringing you down top of her on the spring mattress. Cheeks lifting up to reveal smile lines that you managed to bring out so easily. You held yourself up by your forearms with Ellie sandwiched in between. A warm lit lamp and the small slips of light from the dance in the distance outside were the only forms of light source in the room. Night had casted over the sky, and the moon coating the world below in moonlight. Once a few seconds passed of enjoying the others presence by staring at each and every feature as to memorize them forever like a keepsake, Ellie cleared her throat to speak up.
”I want to be with you, properly this time I mean,” Ellie gazed right into your eyes endearingly beneath you. Her proper confession was in a form of a question you’ve been waiting on so eagerly for so long.
“I’d love that.”
Placing a small peck right on the tip of her nose, you laid down on her, letting your head fall to her heart. This moment would be the mark of something new, a new chapter in your lives. Not another person or soul could take this away from either of you, love continuing to grow deeper into your hearts.
#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie x fem reader#ellie tlou2#ellie williams#ellie x you#ellie fluff#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#tlou part 2
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Alone and Forsaken
Summary:
Alone and forsaken, Joel Miller hides himself away at the end of the world. After losing Sarah he was a shell of a man, trying to drown her memory in the blood of any soul that dared to cross his path. No matter what he did, Sarah haunted him. Then came Ellie, the girl he had been through hell with. Joel felt his chest crack open for her and from then on he decided that wherever Ellie went, he would be there. The Fireflies had other ideas. Joel had fought hard, he had torn through that hospital slaughtering anyone that he came across but he was too late. After practically burning down all of Salt Lake City, Joel banishes himself to a cabin in the middle of the woods. Resigned to his fate, his self imposed exile is soon interrupted when he finds you. Broken, starving, and on the brink of freezing to death, Joel has no choice but to let you into his life. With the winter winds in Montana being particularly piercing this season, he is forced to wait until the spring thaws the ground so that he can dump you on Tommy’s doorstep in Wyoming. Can he keep you at arm’s length until then?
Warnings: Postoutbreak!Joel, mentions of child loss, mentions of religious trauma, brief mentions of Tommy and Maria, mentions of Tess, grieving Joel, Slow burn, eventual smut, eventual soft!Joel, A/B/O dynamics, unspecified age reader age (reader is in her mid-20s and Joel is 56), mentions of violence, Joel really needs a hug in this
A/N: This is my first fic so let me know what you guys think! I'm going to continue to put chapter warnings, both you and Joel are traumatized in this. This is going to be a bit of a slow-burn so strap in folks!
Chapter 1/20 - More to come!
Chapter 1: Withered and Gone
The thundering of his heart pounded in his ears, almost deafening him to the sound of each bullet that ripped into anyone in his way. Joel barely registered their death, if asked today he wouldn’t even be able to tell you how many people he slaughtered. Forty? Sixty? One hundred? He had no idea. Filled with a primal fear that pumped battery acid through his veins, he pressed on until he made it to the door.
That door. Joel hated that fucking door. He knew what he would find on the other side, he had seen it every other night for the last four years. Knowing didn’t change anything, it never did. Whether it was him cradling Sarah in his arms while screaming for Tommy and feeling her tiny body turn cold, or being confronted with Ellie’s skull cracked open while a stranger sliced through her brain, knowing didn’t make it better.
Joel woke, as he did every night, with his heart slamming against his ribs and bile rising in his throat. His eyes were wild as he searched desperately for someone he would never have again, two someones that were gone forever. Nostrils flared, Joel huffed the stale air around him, searching haphazardly for the smell of strawberries and vanilla or cinnamon and ginger. For Sarah and Ellie, his pups.
Joel was greeted with nothing but his own musk, the scent gone sour from the memories haunting his dreams. Running shaky hands over his flushed face, he cursed under his breath before getting up for the day. Knees popping and back twinging in protest, he forced himself into the tiny bathroom connected to his bedroom. Ignoring the weathered face in the mirror, Joel hauled himself into the shower and let the warm water soothe his tense muscles.
After Salt Lake City, Joel had resigned himself to living in the first dilapidated hunting cabin he could find in Montana. It was what he deserved after failing her. Again. He was a bad Alpha, an even worse father, he had let not one but TWO pups die under his care. Living out the rest of his days in some shithole was the least he could do.
Having stumbled back to Wyoming, Joel reached Jackson and collapsed at the front gate. He remembers Tommy above him, trying and failing to shake him out of the daze he was in. He remembers the unfamiliar smells of the clinic, Tommy and Maria coming to see him. He remembers a beta doctor coming in to explain the lows he would experience in the coming months, being an alpha who had lost their pup.
As if he didn’t already know.
Joel couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t stand the softness of the sheets, how Tommy looked at him with sorrow and Maria with guarded pity, how his innocent nephew looked up at him with Tommy’s eyes - the eyes that were the same as his, the same eyes he passed on to Sarah. It only got worse when he left the clinic. Walking through the streets of Jackson reminded him of Ellie. He had to restrain himself from burning the place to the ground. After turning quite a few heads in town with his bitter scent and chilling presence, Joel left quietly in the middle of the night. He left a note for Tommy with the patrol hanging around the front gate and departed for his exile.
Sleepwalking through Wyoming, he finally made his way into Montana where he found the cabin. It must have been the treasure of some reclusive hunter, as it sat smack dead in the middle of the forest without a single road in sight for miles. The building was one story, with a slightly rotting front porch that was overhung by the tin roof. Black solar panels were clamped on the green tin roof, light reflecting against the glass and burning his eyes.
Joel approached it cautiously, pricking up his ears for any potential danger. Who would leave this oasis out here? Hearing nothing, he approached the log building and climbed the slightly softening stairs. Pushing open the door, he was greeted with nothing but dusty air. Taking one step into the room, he could tell nobody had been in this cabin for years. Dust covered the coffee table and moth eaten couch in the living room. Yellowing books lined the shelves and a taxidermied deer leered at him from the wall.
Pushing forward, Joel found a puke green kitchen with a plethora of expired canned food and knitted dishcloths in a variety of bright colors. Next to that, a hallway that led him to a bathroom with a kitschy painting of a monkey in a wig brushing his teeth. Joel stared at it for a second, wondering who the hell would have bought something like that. Was he that type of person before the world went to shit? He couldn't remember.
His tour of the house continued and he found two bedrooms. The first was a master suite with a large bed and a dust soaked brown comforter. He ignored the pictures that lined the walls and shifted through the dressers for anything useful. He found some pants and flannels around his size, as well as some smaller clothes that clearly belonged to a woman. Maybe the owner had a wife? Joel tsked at himself, he needed to remain focused on the task at hand.
Joel dropped his bag, keeping his rifle notched against his shoulder as he approached the last door to the cabin. Surely if a clicker was going to jump out of him it would have already, but humans don’t typically alert their prey before pouncing in his experience. Joel didn’t smell anything as he approached the door but he remained tense. He didn’t trust his senses anymore. Hell, he hadn’t even smelled the Fireflies that approached him as he did compressions on Ellie after the tunnel. Years before that, he hadn’t noticed the soldier's scent sour after getting the orders that would kill Sarah.
“Stupid, so fucking stupid, bad alpha, bad provider…”, he growled before shaking his head, trying to clear his mind of the poison that seeped into his soul with every waking moment of his miserable life.
Half expecting (and half hoping) to be shot dead the second he enters the final room, Joel was greeted with a sight that punched him in the gut. He stumbled back a few steps before a wave of dizziness lurched him forward again. Ears ringing, he fell to his knees and let out a pained cry.
The room was simple, with flowers painted lovingly on the walls and comic books stuffed into the tiny book shelf on the wall. Tears began to stream down his face as he shakily crawled forward. Joel grasped the only picture that sat on the peachy nightstand. Practically choking on his own cries, he dusted off the frame and looked at the picture.
Two girls sat on the front porch. The girl on the left was tomboyish and silly, holding a fishing rod in one hand and throwing up the peace sign with the other. The other girl was softer, hands covered in paint and smiling wide while holding a painting of what looks to be a Disney princess. In another life, that could have been them; his pups, Ellie and Sarah.
“It’s not them, it’s not them, it’s n-not them,” he mumbled to himself, trying to ignore the similarities while his heart rate soared.
He could feel rage building up in his chest as he looked at the girls, his vision going blurry and his jaw popping with how hard he ground his teeth.
“IT’S NOT FUCKING THEM!,” he yelled, launching the picture at the wall and shattering the frame.
Joel stayed on the floor for hours before he collected himself, giving one last look to the room before closing it for good. This place would do fine, he decided. It was secluded enough to keep him in his solitary confinement. The cabin sat near a river with clean flowing water and had seeds and canned food in the cabinets. It even had a tomb for his dead girls to serve as a constant reminder of his failure. Scratch that, his failures. This would be where he spent the rest of his life. Alone, as it should be.
For four years, Joel secluded himself in his cabin. The place had a few adjustments since then. The dust was shaken out of the blankets and the windows opened to wash out the dankness of the place. He had planted seeds and started a garden, put up traps around the area for meat, and even fixed the porch after he had almost fallen through it one morning.
Tommy found him a couple months after his arrival and he managed swindle his brother into helping him get the solar panels working so that he could have power. The younger Miller had lingered, trying to convince his brother to follow him back to a life in Jackson but Joel had just growled at the beta until he backed off. The only concession Joel agreed two was a meet up two times a year, once before winter hit in November and once again at the break of Spring in May. He knew Tommy just wanted to check in on him and as annoyed as he was, he also knew that it was the only way he could avoid the beta dragging him back to Jackson.
Jackson didn’t need the measly produce and game that Joel provided, Joel knew that. His brother needed proof that Joel was still breathing, and this was the only way Tommy knew he could get it.
Joel’s head pounded at the thought of his idiot brother as he tried to rinse off the memories that plagued him. He stood under the scalding spray for a few more moments, willing himself to relax. He wondered briefly if it was his rut that was coming but he quickly brushed that off. He hadn’t had one of those since Tess was still alive. Whether it was stress or that he was aging way too fast, they had just stopped one day. Not that he minded, he hadn’t cared much for the monthly desperation and now he didn't think he deserved the pleasure a release would bring him.
Turning the valve, Joel stepped out of the shower and toweled off. His body was practically on auto pilot as he went through his routine of getting dressed. He crammed whatever food he could find into his mouth before putting on his boots and heading out to check the traps.
The air was chilly as Joel stepped out. He quickly zipped his jacket while cursing the wind that bit into his wide frame. Joel stopped to look at the sky briefly and wondered if it would snow soon. A week into November and the temperatures had dropped drastically. He wondered if this winter would be as brutal as the last. One day he had not even been able to get out the front door with how much snow had come. After 24 hours, he had to literally dig himself out.
Sighing, he headed into the trees surrounding the cabin. Every trap he crossed was empty, save for the last one near the river. That was usually the case, with animals that sought water easily getting snared in the wire. The trap held a good sized rabbit. He grinned as he thought about the stew that he would make with the gamey meat.
“You’ll do just fine darling,” he drawled, releasing the snare from its neck before he shoved it in his pack.
Joel turned, deciding to return to the cabin so that he could properly skin his new found treasure but something stopped him in his tracks. His spine straightened. Is that? No, it can't be. His nose lifted in the air, searching for something that could not possibly be true. That’s when he heard it.
It was quiet. The noise barely carried over the wind and the river nearby but his ears zoned into it immediately. His instincts were trained for this. Joel waited a second. He was sure that he had finally lost it, but then he heard it again.
A whine.
Not just any whine, no, this whine was high pitched and light. It floated on the cold air over to him and smacked him in the face. The scent of lavender and peppermint dizzied him and his heightened senses picked up another strangled whine. This whine had sweat forming on his brow and a need to protect tensing all the muscles in his legs. He was sure of it now. This was the whine of an omega.
For a second Joel just stood there dumbfounded. What the fuck was an omega doing all the way out here? Were they alone? Did they need help? Were they hurt? If they are hurt then they need his help. He has to help, need to be good, need to protect, need to…
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Joel gritted out, rubbing his eyes as his headache worsened with every second he stood there.
Another gust of cold wind brushed against his face and the sweet scent surrounded him again. He smelled the sharp note of panic in the aroma and his legs moved forward before his brain could process the action, his instincts taking over for him. Bounding through the trees, he ran towards the riverbank. His eyes wheeled around his surroundings, a gasp leaving his mouth as he spied a small lump near the rushing waters. Heart pounding in his ears, Joel raced towards it.
-You-
How long had you been lost? Weeks? A month? You didn’t even know anymore. You had been a part of a group of people, being the only survivors from a larger place that had been overrun by infected. After dodging infected and raiders for nearly a year, your luck had to ran out.
Your group had ran out of gas on some godforsaken backroad and were utterly stranded there. Hoping to find something in the small town - could you even call it a town? - your group had trudged into the small strip of dilapidated stores with one sorry looking gas station in the center.
Everything had happened so fast. One moment you were outside the gas station watching a squirrel skitter up a tree near you, the next there were gunshots and screaming. Infected tore apart the face of your friend, an older omega named Miriam who had taken you under her wing, right in front of you. You remember screaming and immediately twenty dead faces turning in your direction. Miriam’s alpha, a soft yet stern woman named Rachel, had stepped in front of you cocking her gun. You whined and whimpered, legs shaking and scent downright acidic with terror as you cowered behind her.
“Go Y/N,” Rachel yelled at you, squaring up as the runners and clickers darted towards her.
You couldn't leave her. What would you do? Where would you go? Rarely had you ever been allowed to be alone and you never really wanted to be. Being an unclaimed omega in a lawless world meant that you had to stick to groups with those that would protect you, lest you become a raiding group's plaything.
Rachel pushed you back and started firing. Whining behind her, you tried to pull her towards the guard rail. You needed her, how would you survive alone?
“GET OUT OF HERE OMEGA!,” Rachel boomed.
That flipped a switch in you. It was a biological kick in the ass that had you turning and sprinting across the road. Jumping over the guardrail, you looked back over your shoulder and saw Rachel slicing through the advancing dead. With her emptied gun somewhere on the ground behind her, you watched as a clicker launched itself at her and tore into her flesh.
With Rachel’s last instructions to you bouncing off the walls of your now empty brain, you turned and sprinted into the forest. Passing nothing but trees, you ran until you were gagged and retched. Your chest was practically on the verge of exploding by the time you stopped and your legs gave out. Collapsing on to the cold ground, you laid beneath the foliage and drifted.
That had been weeks ago, or months, you weren’t sure at this point. It’s not like keeping a calendar was on your mind. Plus, your heats had stopped from the starvation your group had faced for the past year. You tried counting how many days you had been lost by the nights but soon, with only a bag of granola in your pack and bottle of water depleted, the days and nights had blurred together.
This was how you were going to die. You felt like laughing and crying at the same time. You had been young when the virus hit, maybe 5 years old, and had watched it pick off every member of your family until it was just you and your mother. Your mother had been kind once, you think, but aren’t entirely sure if that was true or wishful thinking.
A fairytale made up by a lonely child in a dying world perhaps?
You shook your head. No, she had sung songs to you at one point but that was before. After the infection, after your father died, she had kept you safe while bouncing around QZs in search of some sort of safe haven. That was until she met Josiah, a preacher that took you both into his group and quickly became your stepfather.
You had tried to like him. He seemed sweet at first, giving candies to you and the other children at camp, offering to teach you how to tend to the garden, bringing you a pair of pink shoes that you were so excited to have that your mother pinched your arm just to get you to stop squealing. However, things shifted after your mother and you got more comfortable in town. It became clear that worshipping was the only way that Josiah would let you stay.
Your mother followed along, biting her cheeks and dragging you with her to bible studies and all night prayer services that bruised your knees. But you could tell that she hated every second of it. You could feel it in the way she wrenched you forward everytime you protested going to the services that you hated. You had been to religious services briefly before the outbreak, your mom taking you to Catholic mass once for Christmas eve and your father taking you to celebrate Purim at the local synagogue, but you were way too young to really understand the meaning of any of it. By the time Josiah came around, those memories were barely a whisper in your brain.
Things got worse from there. Josiah became the centerpiece for the group and everyone bowed to his every decree. The alphas were at the top of the pecking order, never to be questioned especially by an omega. Omegas were to be demure, quiet, dutiful, and were meant to be completely under the coverture of their alpha. Betas were given slightly more leeway than omegas, but would never be in a leadership position at camp and would only be allowed to mate with other betas. Anyone breaking the strict biological guidelines were brutally punished. The methods were downright inhumane depending on Josiah’s mood or the level of perceived “heresy.”
You prayed for years under Josiah’s tyranny that you would present as a beta. Sure, you would never lead like an alpha but that never appealed to you anyways. You were caring and you wanted to help people. Plus, maybe if you were a beta they would let you become a doctor. The majority of the group were also betas and many were your age. Being a beta would mean that when the time came, you would have more than enough people to choose from for mating.
Much to your dismay, you presented as an omega and everything got worse. You didn’t have many friends, mainly Jake and the ladies that lived next door; Miriam and Rachel, but now you were stuck inside the house. Josiah wanted to keep you from sin, so he locked you away “for your own good.” You were forced to dress more conservatively, to eat less to maintain your figure, to pray more, to upkeep the house, to never look an alpha in the eye, etc. All the while, inside the house, you tiptoed around the rage of your dulled mother and the leers that your stepfather gave your developing figure.
By the time the infected had overwhelmed the dinky gate that protected your community, you had already been planning on escaping for months. Leaping into a car with Miriam, Rachel, Jake, and a few others, calmness washed over you amidst the destruction. You knew that your mother was probably dead, and you had seen your stepfather get his head ripped clean off of shoulders by a massive clicker, but you didn’t feel anything but relief.
The year after you left, although it was hard with the constant running and fighting, was actually the best year of your life. Nobody expected you to be anything, nobody pinched you, nobody made you pray, nobody smacked you if you made eye contact. You were just you.
“And now look at you,” you chuckled, “stumbling through the woods with no fucking idea where you are going.”
If you didn't find shelter soon, you knew that you would die. You needed to eat, to rest. There was no way you would last another night in the forest.
Your stomach growled violently, practically shaking your frame with the force. You lifted your nose in the air, searching for a whiff of anything. At this point, you were open to eating a squirrel. You shambled through the trees for hours, vision blacking out around the edges as you tried to find any trace of sustenance. Then you heard it: the loud roar of flowing water nearby.
A new sense of urgency pierced through the delirium and you staggered through the vegetation. The urgency made you clumsy and you faceplanted on the rocky bank. A small whine escaped your mouth as you hauled yourself up onto your hands and knees. Your palms smeared blood across the rocks as you crawled towards the water. Dizziness scrambled your thoughts but you pushed through with your heart leaping in your chest and eyes bleary. Faltering as a wave of nausea and dizziness rocked into you, you lost your balance and crumpled just a few inches from the water.
You whined again, louder this time. Frustration welled up in your chest with your goal so close, yet so far away. As you laid there, contemplating whether or not it would be easier just to give in and die, a breeze came from the trees and carried over the most delicious scent that has ever graced your nostrils.
The smell of sandalwood and bergamot glided over the air and wrapped itself around your senses. You felt your body immediately sag along the shore, your eyelids drooping as a feeling of peace overwhelmed you. You weren't sure what was happening, having never felt this calm in your entire life but you didn't question it and gave in to the peace.
You didn't even flinch when you felt a pair of strong arms turn you over and lift you into the air. The comforting aroma coated the back of your throat and warmed the tips of your fingers, making you snuggle into the warmth pressed against you. You rubbed your face into the source as you felt yourself being whisked away.
A soft hum came from your carrier and you heard a deep comforting voice say, “It’s okay omega, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to ya darling.”
You had never fallen asleep so quickly in your entire life.
#joel miller#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller fanfiction#alpha!joel miller#omegaverse#omega reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#angst#comfort#eventual smut#eventual happy ending#joel x reader
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Hear me out the book of life x bbg miguel 😍 it could either be like La muerte reader and xibalba Miguel and if that’s to ooc for Miguel then Manolo Miguel and Maria reader🙏 I feel like it’s a little ooc either way but PLSSS😞🙏
🤭 It's fine dear. I think, Miguel would do a great job as El Catrin, I feel his personality is more inclined to go with it, and the reader, well, Xibalba. Mischievous, kinda tricky but still so so loving and a softie for him :')
No proofread, just randomness ahead
"Why would I want to rule the Land of the Forgotten?" Black wings tucked behind your back as you stared at Miguel. Red eyes blinked unamused at you.
"Why can't we share? I could do a pretty good job too."
"Mi cielo, Who would watch over the land? You have the talent for it."
"You're just saying that cause you don't wanna share. The Land of the Forgotten is boring! With capital B! Nothing ever happens. It's so depressing all the time. No colors, nothing!"
"It's your realm. You're there cause you cheated on a wager." His finger flickered your nose.
You groaned in annoyance. Of course you would try and ask but to no avail. His decision absolute.
"Let's make a wager then." Smirking you planted yourself before him, his nose flared softly but waited for you to finish.
"A wager?"
"Yes. A wager . See those two boys there? They're always fighting for that girl's attention. And you and I know that only one of them will come out victorious."
"And?" His eyebrow quirqued.
"If my boy wins, I'll have your land. If the other boy wins?-"
"You'll stop meddling with the affairs of men" He caressed your cheek before disappearing.
"But it's the only fun I have left, my dear! You scared of not winning?" Your fingers walked over his chest and smirked.
-----
The wager was on. He had blessed the boy he rooted for with a pure heart, but you on the other hand had given the little jerk of a kid, an ominously beautiful looking black and green medal. The Eternal Life Medal. Whoever wielded it could be no harmed not killed. Your plan had been on a roll without any signs of stopping. Now everything you had to do was wait.
----
The two boys turned into men, both persuing their passions. Yours turned into a respectable and famous soldier that always ended up living to tell the tale thanks to his magic medal none knew about. And Miguel's boy had grown into a famous bullfighter. Even though both were different the love they had for the girl, now a lovely looking woman, remained the same.
But you had seen the hesitation in Miguel's part of the bet. Despite him being a famous matador, he didn't wish to inflict any more pain in the poor animal. He wanted to sing.
The woman seemed impressed by his act of mercy. You would have to step up in your game if you wanted the Land of The Remembered.
----
A two headed sneak had bitten Miguel's boy, he had gladly took his role among the dead if that meant to rescue his beloved.
A rare sight among the perverse humans. A pure heart. Of course it was cheating, but it'd make you one step closer to be the ruler of such wonderful and colorful land.
---
Your name echoed through your old realm as Miguel roared, full of anger. He had discovered what you had done.
"Repugnante hija de burro leproso! Hiciste trampa. Otra vez!" ( You misbegotten daughter of leprous donkey. You cheated. Again!)
"I did not do such thing!"
His boy was there, facing you, needing answers. And so was Miguel.
---
You had put Jim through his worst fears, a maze that somehow he was able to decipher, and the final test. El Toro. (The Bull)
A manifestation of every single bull slayed by his ancestors.
-
Miguel's boy had won the wager. You were to return to your realm.
"I believe you've won the wager again mi amor. Just like my heart, all over again."
His eyes softened and a bony finger was brought to your chin.
"I'm really sorry my love. Would you ever forgive me?"
"I do"
He pulled you closer to give you a deep kiss as the skies exploded in colors.
-----
(Love this movie btw 🥹❤️)
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OK HMO BUT SPIDER PERSON READER AND MIGUEL DEALING WITH AN ANOMALY IN A WORLD WHERE WELL…
Miguel’s a woman 🤭🤭🤭🤭
YES PLEASE ... !!! (i made maria's earth 829-b bc it's just miguel's earth number backwards tbh)
earth 829-B: spider woman 2099; maria o'hara.
miguel o'hara and fem!miguel o'hara (maria o'hara) x spider person!reader
"hey, i... kinda have something to tell you." miguel mutters under his breath as you two are surveying atop an apartment complex's roof. you look at him and raise an eyebrow, "yeah?" you ask him as he looks back at you for a moment–then gently shakes his head and looks away. "later." he said as glitching lights in the distance and the crashing of glass were heard. miguel had long been waiting for the right time to tell you exactly what he's been meaning to say, to let you know just what his heart's been holding and what his mind's been constantly reminding him every time... and yet that moment was taken away from him yet again as the anomaly busted through a building, getting the two of you into action as you swung over there to beat this villain's ass.
you two fought valiantly, though this anomaly was pretty tough on both of you–with only miguel keeping this villain in check as he tried to confuse them, and hopefully beat them down. miguel, however, couldn't subdue it; he was holding on to the villain with his digital webbing wrapped around them, but that was the best he could do–he couldn't beat it and keep it restraint, and you were trying your hardest to get back up every time it beat you down and knock it out. suddenly, a red digital web was wrapped around the villain's neck; pulling their head and making them grunt and roll their eyes back into their head. "mig, how're you doing that?" you asked him all confused. "that wasn't me!" he exclaimed as, out of nowhere, a dark blue with red blur kicked the villain in the face–stunning both you and miguel as the villain got beaten down a little. the dark blue and red blur grabbed the villain by their head and took off their mask–exposing long, salivating fangs.
before the blur could bite into the villain, miguel wrapped his webbing around the villain and tied them up–successfully subduing them, for once and for all. you rushed up to miguel and the mysterious blur, but before you could even get a word out of your mouth, the blur tackled miguel to the ground. "you... hijo de puta! that was mine to subdue, do you have any idea how long i've–you ass!" the blur exclaimed vulgarly, the voice was that of a woman's–a woman, the blur was; and miguel was struggling underneath this big woman who was almost his own height. the blur wrapped her hands around his neck and began strangling him.
"look, i don't... i don't know... who the shock you are, but let go of me, i didn't do anything to you!" "you ruined all my shocking plans!" the woman growled out as she bared her free hand up, exposing claws emerging from the pads of her fingers. you knew you had to stop what was going on between them, so you ran up to them and, instinctively, webbed the woman's eyes. the woman shrieked in surprise and let go of miguel, muttering cuss words in spanish and english as she tried getting the webbing off her. miguel furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. "your plans? we've had this stakeout planned for weeks, if anyone's plans were interfered with, it would be ours!" miguel argued, his nostrils flaring as he huffed and puffed in anger. "you could've murdered the anomaly!" "and you... you couldn't do anything to minimize the damage the anomaly caused!" the woman argued as she got the webbing off her. miguel brought you behind him as the woman approached miguel all angrily; her eyes turning red as his were also becoming the same hue.
as the two glared down and snarled at each other, you mustered the strength and courage to get in between them and make sure they don't murder each other in a blind rage. "listen, now, you two–the damage has been done, but what matters now is that the anomaly will be sealed soon. so, miss, um...?" you asked for her name as she gazed down at you with anger in her eyes, but that soon melted as she noticed that... you looked very, very familiar to her–you resembled someone she knew very well. "...o'hara, maria o'hara." she responded, her gaze softening towards you, but hardening as she looked back at miguel with an icy stare. "...what a coincidence." miguel huffed as he narrowed his gaze at the female o'hara on front of you two.
"wait, does that mean... oh, no wonder." you muttered as you looked at miguel to maria. "earth 829-B, the earth of–" "spider woman, 2099." maria interrupted him as she looked at you with a gentler gaze, not wanting to rip her eyes away from you one bit. "um, yes, maria...?" you called out her name all gently, prompting her to shake her head as she snapped back to reality. "sorry, nothing, nothing... anyway, keep this perro of yours on a leash; he's really... really a piece of work." she said in a cold tone as miguel clicked his tongue. "as if you aren't basically me." "hey, watch it, pendejo–you intercepted my mission, i believe you need to be taught some manners and protocol; or do you just not know what any of that means, huh?" she argued with him as miguel began to speak, but stopped when he felt your hand on his wrist. "hey, hey, stop it guys–please. we promise to not get in your way as much anymore, we'll look for you when we're in your earth next time and try helping you–" "dear, i appreciate it, but please stay out of this for me; especially him." she said with such contempt in her tone as she placed her hands on your shoulders all softly, as if her touch indicated some longing behind it.
"can you please give us some alone time? i have something to tell them." he said in a gruff voice as he gently took your hand in his, though maria growled as miguel tried taking you away from her. "and i need to tell them something... at least, this version of them." she said in a faltering tone. miguel and maria kept arguing over who would get to talk to and spend time with you, making you feel like a ragdoll being fought over by siblings that keep arguing at every turn. "okay, enough!" you exclaim as the two stop shouting at each other and look at you. you sigh and open up a portal, yanking yourself out of their grasps.
"come talk to me when you two decide to be the bigger spider here, okay? i'm going back to HQ, duke this out by yourselves." you said in a frustrated voice as you disappeared into the portal, leaving miguel and maria alone together. maria clicked her tongue and shook her head–her AI assistant, lyle, showed up and smirked. "who came out on top from this argument?" he asked as lyla soon popped up and pulled up statistics and charts on her monitor. "neither, they're both grumpy losers." she joked as the two of them laughed, making maria and miguel grumble as they glared at each other.
well... they both seemingly blew their chances with you. they'll have to play nice if they wanna get to spend more time with you, but until that time comes, you've gotta keep them both from tearing each other's heads off and hissing at each other like angry cats.
tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara fanfiction#genderbent miguel o'hara#genderbent atsv#atsv miguel x reader#maria o'hara#fem!miguel o'hara x reader#atsv#atsv x reader#atsv fluff#atsv fanfiction#spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse fluff#spiderman across the spiderverse fanfiction
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Mine... One day
pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader
genre: fluff
el's thoughts: this was so fun to write! just playful banter and teasing
The clashing metal resounded through the sparing room, only the fighting pair in the room. Well, Y/N’s lady-in-waiting, Maria, was standing against the wall chaperoning the two. The shuffling feet and the ear-ringing sound of the two dull swords running against each other echoed in the room.
Nikolai swung his arm around before tapping her side with the flat part of his blade, “And… Got you.” A loud frustrated groan fell from Y/N’s lips, “You always win it’s not even fair.” “You’re the one who keeps challenging me, Darling.” The smirk on his lips brought butterflies to her stomach and made her clench her fist in annoyance. With a roll of her eyes and walked to place her sword up, “I’m done for today.”
In long strides, he was by her side once again, “You’re giving up so easily?” He pinched her waist softly, earning a small noise of disapproval from the girl standing with her back against the wall. He was quick to raise his hands in defeat but otherwise ignored her. Y/N chuckled, “No. I’m tired so I’m going to do this lovely thing you might’ve heard of called rest.” The blonde hummed as if thinking, “Never heard of it so you must be lying.” That comment earned a playful scoff from the girl looking up at him, “Lying or not, I’m leaving.” She turned to make her way for the door but called over her shoulder, “I’ll be here tomorrow for a rematch.”
Nikolai watched her as she let the door close behind her and sighed to himself, shaking his head with a lovestruck smile. “That girl… She’ll be mine.” The reminder of how stubborn she was flashed in his mind. “One day.”
~
Like the day before the sparing room was filled with the sound of shuffling feet and tapping of swords. The pair has been following each other around the room for no longer than half the hour.
Y/N sighed as she slid her blade up to press against his neck, “You’re going easy on me.” A smirk appeared on his lips, “I thought maybe if you win you’d finally agree to go out with me.” She scoffed and leaned closer to him, “I’ll agree to go out with you once I win fairly. Don’t start treating me differently now, Lantsov.” A spark of competitive fire flared in Nikolai’s chest, “Alright, Y/L/N. Just know we may never go out then.”
After releasing him from her hold he was quick to slide forward and swing his own blade down, chasing her right leg. Stepping back and to the side, she retaliated, bringing her free arm behind her back as the one holding the sword moved forward aiming for his side. Step. Step, slide. Lean back, slide. Step forward. Y/N mentally recited the steps he’s taught her. Blocking swiftly before striking back. Her blows got more and more frequent, one hit following another in an aggressive pattern pushing Nikolai to stumble back scrambling to block. With one final push the duel ended with the tip of her sword at the center of his chest. She smirked in pride at his wide-eyed expression before he composed himself quickly.
“Well… I guess I taught you well.” Nikolai let his sword hang beside his leg as he stepped forward causing the girl in front of him to stretch her neck up slightly. “I guess so.” She said, as she tried to catch her breath.
“And since you’ve won, you own me a date tonight.”
Y/N smiled, “Nuhuh… I never said when I’d go out with you.” She spun on her heel and went to put the sword up, leaving the taller of the two to stare at her with a slack jaw. “How- C’mon, Y/N/N. Don’t you think I’ve been patient enough?” He caught up to her and stood at her side. She shook her head, her hair swaying behind her, “No quite, Loverboy.” She stood on her tiptoes and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before hurrying to the door. “Come, Maria. I’ve finished training for today.”
Her lady-in-waiting hid her smile of amusement as she scurried behind, her voice quiet, “Yes, M’lady.”
A smug sense of pride settled in her chest while butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She couldn’t wait to go out with him but teasing him was just a bit more fun. Tomorrow morning seemed like the perfect time to surprise him with breakfast. He can wait a few hours more.
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov x y/n#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#shadow and bone#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone imagines#ellora.writes
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EQUIFINALITY | SUMMER
PART THREE, sequel to GESTALT
Joel Miller x afab!reader (2.4k+)
RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni)
WARNINGS: angst, grief, discussions about murder & death, age gap (not mentioned), allusions to smut
DISCLAIMER: although this is a continuation of my series titled GESTALT, it could potentially be read as a standalone. however, i strongly suggest reading the first series to provide context for the reunion and background on the relationships between the characters. this part is genuinely upsetting, i’m sorry in advance.
NOTES: this part takes place after the finale episode, when ellie and joel return to jackson. also, apparently i don't believe in happy endings! (or do i? stayed tuned for the final installment...)
← previous part | next part →
The edges of Joel’s vision were somewhat fuzzy, his head pleasantly buzzing with slight inebriation as he stood against the bar in the Tipsy Bison, trying his best to keep his head low and presence unnoticeable.
The party was in full swing, and the wooden tiling of the dining area had been cleared to open up a makeshift dance floor where the inhabitants of Jackson mingled and chatted. Maria jumped on any excuse to plan jovial gatherings for the town in order to boost morale and encourage strong bonds between neighbors in the small community.
In this case, the occasion happened to be Joel, himself—or rather, his and Ellie’s return. Although they had arrived back in town about three weeks prior, the weather had been tumultuous, and the spring demanded strenuous hours of labor on behalf of everyone who was capable. But now that the springtime was melting beneath the sweltering sun of summer, Maria figured it was time to welcome the two newcomers and provide a much-needed break to the overworked members of the community.
The man lifted his third glass to his lips once more, taking a long, slow sip of his liquor as his eyes skimmed the endless sea of somewhat unfamiliar faces—he spotted Ellie across the room, chatting with some kids her age, already coming out of her shell; there were younger children in another corner of the room, corralled by a few women who were idling gossiping with one another; the other adults spread out throughout the building, the air sticky with the stench of sweat and booze. Even within the mass congregation of townsfolk, all dressed in their nicest apocalyptic attire, Joel felt deeply, deeply isolated. The faces of strangers all blurred together, their voices blending into a dull hum in the background of his awareness.
“You’re sulking.”
Tommy's voice cut through the ambience, pulling Joel's attention to him. He turned his head to face his brother, scowling deeply at him as he took another swig of whiskey.
“M’not.”
He grumbled, and Tommy threw his head back with a bark of a laugh, lifting his beer bottle to his lips with the shake of his head.
“Jesus, you can be a real fuckin’ dumbass sometimes, you know that?”
Joel’s nostrils flared with frustration as Tommy smirked at him teasingly, one brow lifted in silent challenge. Joel’s eyes flickered to his left when Maria sidled up next to him, sitting in the stool across from her husband, cradling her swollen belly.
“He’s right, Joel.”
She nodded softly, eyes scanning over him carefully, and he clenched his jaw.
“What is this? Y’all drag me out here just to corner me and berate me?”
Tommy choked back a laugh, but his wife shot him a glare before turning back to the man beside her, who was looking sullen and wounded beneath his guise of anger. She sighed.
“You’ve been standing in the same spot all night, waiting for her to walk in. She’s not here, Joel. She left before you came by.”
Joel eyed Maria warily, his brows furrowing as she attempted to comfort him with the gentle tone of her voice. The man was slightly startled at her admittance—it wasn’t a secret that his sister-in-law wasn't his biggest fan, and it certainly wasn’t a secret that she wasn’t the biggest fan of his reemergence in your life.
He hadn’t seen you in weeks. Not since that day in the examination room, when you’d almost kissed him and he’d pushed you away—again. You hated him. Surely, you must.
Maria must’ve been able to read his mind—she reached out a careful hand, laying it gently on Joel’s forearm in an effort to save him from his self-deprecating spiral. She offered him a small smile.
“You should go find her.”
“You don’t want me to do that.”
Joel quipped flatly, dropping his gaze down to his boots. He heard Maria scoff incredulously, shaking her head slightly in disbelief.
“Actually, Joel, I do.”
Tommy cut her off quickly, jumping in to save the conversation from Joel’s dismissal.
“She’s right, Joel. I mean, shit, you look like a fuckin’ kicked puppy, standin’ over here all by yourself, waitin’ for her to come find you. You should go find her, man. You’re bein’ pathetic.”
Joel whipped around to shoot a glare at his younger brother, but Maria raised her hands up to gesture for him to calm down.
“Look, Joel. I know I haven’t exactly been supportive of rekindling this old twin flame or whatever, but all I really care about is that she’s happy—and lately, well...”
She trailed off, and Joel felt a pang of guilt erupt in his chest.
When he elected not to respond, Maria sighed slowly, lowering herself from the stool and gesturing for Tommy to follow behind her.
“I can’t force you to do anything, but just—think about it, okay?”
The man felt the corner of his lip twitch downward in annoyance, but nonetheless he let out a grunt of acknowledgement. After sharing a knowing look with one another, Tommy and Maria finally left Joel to wallow in his own self-pity.
The night was balmy and humid. Joel’s t-shirt clung to his chest from the stickiness in the air, and the streets were eerily quiet as he trudged home alone.
He would’ve asked Ellie to join him, but she was enjoying herself at the bar, surrounded by joyful faces and a general atmosphere of positivity. He wished he could let himself indulge in the simple pleasures of community, but the gaping hole in his chest refused to heal.
Music. He heard it as soon as your house entered his line of sight. As he walked closer, he could hear the familiar guitar riffs of a Johnny Cash song echoing in the distance, just within earshot. Light flickered on your front porch, and as Joel approached his own door, he caught sight of you—reclined on your porch swing, head tilted backwards with your eyes closed, a blissful smile on your features.
He didn’t want to disturb you or your relaxation, but his legs betrayed him—his feet carried him past his own stoop and towards the concrete steps leading up to you. The crunch of gravel beneath his boots caused you to jump, body tensing briefly until your eyes landed on the perpetrator—as soon as you saw him, your eyes softened.
“Cowboy.”
Joel paused on the second step at the sound of your voice, his fingers white-knuckling the railing in an effort to ground himself.
He didn’t speak—you seemed to anticipate his silence, because wordlessly scooted towards the far end of the bench, gesturing with a nod of your head for him to join you. Hesitantly, he obliged.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
You started after awhile—Joel’s brows furrowed at the statement, tongue peeking from beneath his mustache as he wet his lips.
“No, no, I—you’ve been avoiding me.”
He clarified, and you let out a humorless laugh.
“My schedule has been the same every single day for ten years, at this point. I’m at the same places at the same time every day. Hardly seems like a coincidence that our paths never crossed.”
He’d never considered that before. Of course he hadn’t intentionally been avoiding you, but then again...had he been?
“Was lookin’ for you. At—at the Bison, I mean.”
He turned to look at you, and he met your gaze, your eyes darted away.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to miss your big night, or anything. I helped set up, I just—wasn’t in the mood for mingling.”
Joel hummed at that, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. His eyes skimmed over the row of homes in front of him, shrouded with pine trees and lowly lit by a few streetlamps—picturesque.
He cleared his throat. You clearly weren’t throwing him any bones, today. You sat in the silence, shoulders sagging low, eyes misty with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. He wanted to speak, but—what to say?
“Overheard Maria tellin’ Ellie a story.”
His heart fluttered when you looked at him, curiosity successfully piqued.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Somethin’ about you savin’ her from a bear attack?”
For a moment, you froze, and Joel feared he may have unknowingly struck a nerve, but then you let out a bright, bubbly laugh, your eyes crinkling with amusement.
“She’s still telling that story?”
You could barely speak through your fit of uncontrollable giggling, doubling over as you drew in a long breath.
“What? S’not true?”
Joel teased, a brow quirked as a smile tugged at his lips, and your eyes were sparkling when you gazed up at him.
“Oh, it’s true, it’s just—I saved her from a taxidermized bear in a fucking Bass Pro Shop.”
His expression pulled into one of disbelief.
“I—you what?”
You giggled again, eyes turning glassy with nostalgia.
“Yeah. That’s where I ended up, at least for awhile. The day I left, when everything went to shit, my car ran out of gas right near a strip mall, and I figured Bass Pro Shop would be as good a place as any to hole up until things settled down—things never did settle down, of course—but I was lucky to be stuck where I was.”
“You never made it to a Quarantine Zone?”
Joel questioned, slightly bewildered. The idea of you, out in the big wide world, all by yourself, terrified him. You laughed coldly.
“No one was looking for me, Joel. No one knew I was out on the backroads driving to Cali. I was lucky. Ran into this older couple at the mall, we—we made due, at least, for as long as it lasted.”
Your tone grew bitter.
“They went out to go hunting one day and never came back. So it was just me in that big department store, surrounded by moldy fish tanks and hunting rifles that I didn't know how to use.”
Joel risked a look at your face, and there were tears forming under your lashes. He let himself lean in closer to you, an attempt at providing comfort, a reminder that he was here with you, that you weren't alone. Not anymore.
You didn’t pull away.
“Been meanin’ to ask.”
He started hesitantly, and when you glanced at him, he lifted a hand to his face, gesturing across his eye in a downward stroke. Oh. The scar.
“Not a glamorous story. Saved a family from some Infected, but the eldest son—he got bit. The middle daughter shot him to save her younger brother, while the mom was unconscious. When she came-to, I told her I did it so she wouldn’t have to know it was the sister, and she attacked me. Punched me right across the face, and the diamond on her wedding ring ripped into me.”
“What did ya do?”
You shrugged, sniffing indignantly.
“I sat back and took the hits. What was I supposed to do? I can’t imagine that sort of grief. Losing a kid...”
Joel felt something twist in his gut as you trailed off, and this time, he felt you lean into him, your shoulder brushing his own.
He didn’t pull away.
“You know, I was never mad at you about my dad, Joel.”
He blinked, his chest tightening at the casualness of your tone. He stayed quiet, as he wasn’t even sure any sound would come out if he opened his mouth to speak.
“I don’t care that he’s dead. I don’t care how he died. I tried calling him the day of the outbreak, to tell him I was coming to California—only person I could reach was his fucking secretary. He never cared about me, and I never cared about him.”
The bitterness in your tone was startling, but that’s not what shook Joel. What made him falter was when you turned to look at him.
“I was mad at you because you thought that the right time to tell me about it was when I was leaning in to kiss you.”
Again, you were met with silence. It didn’t come as much of a shock to you, Joel’s lack of response, but it still made your face flush with annoyance.
“You will do anything in your power to avoid being vulnerable with me, Joel. Always have. I just thought, after all this time—maybe things would be different.”
“Why would you think that?”
A knife to the gut is what his words felt like. He knew it as soon as he said it, how your face would fall and you’d flinch away from him.
But you didn’t. Your face remained stoic, unchanged, unwavering.
“Because I’m different now, Joel. I’m not a little girl anymore. The only thing that hasn’t changed it what I want.”
“And what’s that?”
You huffed out an indignant laugh, turning to face the view of the street again. Inside, your record player scratched to a halt, casting the two of you in silence.
“’ve never been shy about what I wanted, Joel. Even after all these years, it’s always been you.”
The words settled on his chest, heavy and suffocating. Surely, you were bluffing.
“The hell is that supposed to mean? You sayin’ that even after all these years, there’s never been anyone else?"
You sighed, rolling your eyes at his brashness.
“Yeah, Joel, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He felt his mouth run dry at your confession. Twenty years, a whole lifetime, and you’d never even moved on. Was it out of stubbornness, spite, or something else entirely?
“The thing you don’t seem to understand, Joel, is I’m fine on my own. I’ve waited twenty years for a person that I thought was probably dead, or at least a person I never thought I’d see again, and I was fine with that. I’m never gonna settle for less than what I want, Joel, and that goes for you, too.”
Joel’s brows furrowed.
“What’s that s’posed to mean?”
There was a twitch in your brow, a crack in your impenetrable facade. You shook your head wryly.
“It means that I believe you when you say you’re not the same person anymore, Joel.”
You looked over at him once again, but there were tears in your eyes. One slipped down and traced the line of your scar as it fell.
“It means you’re not the one I’ve been waiting for anymore.”
Anger suddenly welled in the pit of Joel’s chest.
“What’dya want me to say? That you’re wrong? That I am the same person?”
You sniffled, shaking your head at his outburst.
“I don’t want you to say anything, cowboy. I just want you to realize that I’m not the same girl that fell to her knees and begged for you to love her. And I never will be again.”
You were practically snarling at him, and it was in that moment that Joel realized he might have lost you for good.
TAGLIST: @spiidergirlsworld @canpillowscry @str84pedro @daddy-din @pedropascal-whore @canpillowscry @pppmitt @thirdoffive @lovekk2plus @elliescumsl0t @kagajgajaguwbeidheubqk @cookielovesbook-akie @kamcrazy123 @ohnosy @dayrdreaming @notsosecretspy@arquiiva @yyiikes @shotgun-shelby(please comment to be added/removed)
#tlou#the last of us#tlou series#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel x reader#tlou smut#tlou imagine#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfic#joel and ellie#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#projectionistwrites
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