#Joel angst

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Birthday Blues✨

Jackson! Joel Miller x bartender fem! reader

A/N: This is a little one-shot I did for @justagalwhowrites Joel Miller’s birthday celebration writing challenge! I had so much fun with this one and love it so much. I hope you enjoy! This one is all in Joel’s POV 🩵

Summary: Joel spends his birthday sulking on the porch, regretting the mistakes of his past. Just when he thinks he’ll spend his birthday alone, you come around and turn his cloudy skies into sunshine.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: Lots of angst, Joel’s POV, Jackson! Joel, losing Ellie, regrets, no use y/n, fluff, yearning, angst/comfort, lots of feelings, Joel’s birthday, age gap (Joel is 54, reader is 30)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The wooden rocking chair creaks like a rundown, abandoned building, making the old floorboards of the porch groan beneath him with every shaky breath he takes. The acoustic guitar feels like a heavy anchor in his arms as he thinks about those long afternoons when he’d teach Ellie how to play songs of his past. Now, it feels like sawdust under his calloused fingertips. Brittle and old. Just like he is.

   September twenty-sixth. The day he can’t fucking stand anymore. The day he was brought into this unapologetic world, not realizing he’d lose himself along the way.

   Birthdays were supposed to be spent with loved ones. A celebration of life. But what does he have to celebrate anymore? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He doesn’t have anyone anymore. He’s just… alone. 

   Sarah is gone, dead. And Ellie… she wasn’t coming back. Not to his house, his doorstep. No. She’d just stay away like the plague. 

   Fifty-four-years-old. Just one step closer to being six feet underground. He wishes he was already dead because that’s how he feels. Hollow, broken, lonely. 

   God, he’s so fucking lonely. Ever since Ellie found out about the fireflies. About what he did…

   She hates his guts, hates the way he lied straight to her face for months, hates the reason he did it. She thinks he’s selfish and feels like she was used. But really, he only looks at it one way. 

   He saved her… And he’d do it a thousand times over if he had the choice. To lose another daughter. Well… he just couldn’t. So, he did the selfish thing and got her out of that hospital. Because if he lost her, he’d surely lose himself.

   But he already lost her. Lost himself, too. So why does any of this even matter? It’s useless. He’s useless. 

   He strums along to the melancholy tune, the frail strings sliding along calloused skin, echoing the quiet melody back into the cool autumn breeze of Jackson. Maybe Ellie would hear it, come running back with tears staining her hazel eyes, apologize for moving out and screaming at him to stay away. But she was the one that stayed away. He never wanted to…

   He just strums along and keeps playing. The song that he had written just for her. A song she probably hears in her nightmares now. Maybe it’d bring her back…

   He gets lost in the music, greying curls tousled by the wind, his green flannel clinging to his flexed biceps, broken military watch glistening in the dying orange sky. Just when he starts to get drowned out by the screaming voices in his head, a soft, lilty voice pulls him from the darkness.

   “Hey.”

   His head snaps up and his calloused fingers still from the sudden intrusion. When he sees who it is, he freezes in place. His jaw locked, eyes wide, teeth clenched together. It’s you. The pretty bartender who caught his eye the moment he stepped into Tipsy Bison that first he arrived in Jackson.

   There you are. Hair blowing gently in the brisk breeze, doe eyes locked on his, a half-smile curled against your glossy red lips. Jesus. You’re even more beautiful with the orange sun shining down on you, casting halos over the crown of your head. 

   You’re absolutely breathtaking.

   “Haven’t seen you around Tipsy Bison lately. Was wondering where you’ve been.” You look at him intently, questions spiraling in those pretty shades of moonlit eyes. 

   “Been a little busy, I guess,” he mumbles, keeping his fingers locked tight around the neck of the guitar. 

   “Got your whiskey waiting for you behind the bar. Been saving it just for you,” you smile sweetly, nearly making him drop to his knees at the sight.

   “Thanks, darlin’. You don’t gotta do that, though. Might as well jus’ give it to someone else,” he sighs, eyes dropping to his denim-clad lap. It’s been a while since he went and drowned his sorrows at the bar. He’d rather just do it in the comfort of his own home. A home that was empty now except for him.

   “You okay?” you ask, voice leery as your eyebrows thread together in worry. 

   “’m fine,” he states lowly, eyes hollow and weathered from the pain he wears like weights under his eyes day after day. He’s not fine. He’s far from fine. 

   When’s the last time someone asked if he was fine? He can’t even remember.

   “You don’t sound fine. You look… sad.” Your voice is quiet, subdued, and your eyes look like clouded skies with hurricanes and thunderstorms brewing ominously. You look just as sad as he feels. 

   You’re so empathetic and tuned into other people’s feelings. He wishes you’d stop that. Stop looking at him like he deserves to not feel like that. But again, It’s hard to look away when a beautiful girl who’s kind, caring, and all around good is standing right in front of him, asking him if he’s alright.

   “Reckon I am sad,” he finally mutters, eyes cast down to the fading paint of the wooden boards on the porch. But then he looks up again, and there you are. Beautiful eyes swallowing him whole.

   “You want to talk about it?” You lean against the stairwell on the porch, eyes boring into his, arms crossed over your soft blue jacket.

   He shakes his head and sighs. “Darlin’, I really don’t think you wanna sit here and listen to an old man talk ‘bout how he’s feelin’.”

   You shift your weight and flex your jaw, like he just punched you right in the gut. Fuck. He’s already ruining everything, but what you say next surprises him. “I’ve got time.”

   He stares at you a moment, feeling like he just got struck by lightning. You want to stay and listen? You’ve got time?

   “Why don’t you take a seat then? I don’t wanna bore you with my problems. And God forbid I waste more of your time,” he murmurs.

   You shuffle your way up the steps and sit slowly into the wooden rocking chair next to him. The one he crafted by hand. “Like I said, I’ve got time. I’m listening.” You smile softly at him, and he can’t help but to memorize the outline of your pretty face. Your deep dimples that appear whenever you’re grinning, your light freckles scattered across your nose. The ones you get from sitting out in the sun for too long. You always did love the sunlight. That’s something he picked up on quickly.

   He’s watched you for so long from a distance. Only really saying hi if he was stopping by the Tipsy Bison for a drink, maybe waving at you when you walked past him on the street, the casual back and forth glances the two of you would exchange every once in a while. 

   He’s shy, reserved, an introverted man that likes his space. But he’d have no problem sharing his space with you. Especially when you wear that flowery lavender scent that magnetizes him to you.

   After a moment of comfortable silence, he huffs out a heavy breath and begins. “Look, I’m not the best at talkin’. Especially ‘bout how I’m feelin’. But let’s make this short ‘n sweet. I know you got better places to be.”

   You lean back into the slant of the chair and rest your arm on the smooth armrest, smiling over at him with your sweet demeanor. “I don’t have anywhere to be, Joel. So take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” 

   He sets his guitar down and leans it against the edge of the porch, carefully scooting back into the worn chair. His thumb taps nervously against the armrest, but you just stay quiet and keep your eyes on him. It helps him breathe a little easier, he thinks. 

   Taking his time chewing over the words, he finally spills them. “I’ve made some stupid mistakes in the past that I can’t fix. No matter what I do, nothin’ is gonna change what happened.”

   You knit your eyebrows together like you’re mulling it over, guessing what he could be talking about. The way you bite your bottom lip and flick your eyes between the open mailbox that says Miller’s and back his way says you do know. “Are you talking about Ellie?” you ask hesitantly.

   “How did you know…”

   You shrug and push a piece of fallen hair behind the slope of your ear. He wishes he could be the one doing that. “This town is small, Joel. I notice things. It’s not a secret Ellie moved in with Dina.”

   He sighs deeply and pushes his fingers back through his slick hair, letting the tousled curls fall back into place. “Guess gossip gets ‘round fast here. Shit.” He lets his head hang low, cursing under his breath when he thinks about the way Ellie stormed off that day. She said she never wanted to speak to him again, and it hurt just as much as Sarah’s death.

   Your voice jolts him out of those dark thoughts. “Have you talked to her lately?”

   He clenches his jaw and shakes his head defeatedly, tears lining the back of his eyes as pain radiates down his spine. “It’s been over two months. She can’t even stand to look me in the eyes. Fuckin’ hates me, and it’s all my fault.”

   And there you go again. Looking at him like a lost puppy with those big doe eyes of yours. You make him so soft. Nobody else can do that. Not since Tess.

   “I don’t think she hates you.” 

   You place your dainty hand on the back of his for a few seconds. Warmth shoots through his skin, races down his bloodstream, nearly chokes him up when you retrieve it and place it back in your lap. In just those few seconds, he felt what it would be like if you were his. But that couldn’t happen. You’re far too young for him, a twenty-four year age gap, fresh out of your twenties. Just now thirty. You’re too pretty, too out of his league, too good. 

   You’re just too good for him. He’d never deserve a woman like you. Not after everything he’s done. 

   I don’t think she hates you. The words permeate and sizzle deep in his brain.

   “No? Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that jus’ ain’t the case,” he scoffs, kicking the heel of his worn boot into the porch to get his point across. 

   You twist your fingers together nervously and look up at him, sparkling eyes shining like starlight. “You know she asks about you, right?”

   His mouth gawks open, and he stares wonderstruck at you. “What?” He can’t believe his ears. “She… asks ‘bout me?”

   A faint smile lifts over your red lips. “Yeah. She sometimes comes up to me at the bar and asks if you’ve been in recently or if I’ve talked to you lately. She wonders about you, Joel.”

   His mouth feels like sandpaper, throat dry and closed up. Maybe the dry air will suffocate him before he gets his hopes up. “Why would she do that…”

   You shrug and give him a tight-lipped smile. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two. And it’s not my business to ask, but I don’t think she’ll stay away forever, Joel. No matter what you did or how bad you think it is, she’ll come around. I know she will.”

   His grip tightens against the armrest, nails digging like claws into the rustic wood. “I dunno. She really stuck it to me to leave her alone. Don’t think she wants me ‘round anymore. S’why I stayed away. She’ll never forgive me…” His voice is strained, sad, choked up like he forgot how to breathe. He wishes she’d forgive him. Just one word from her. That’s all he wants.

   “Give her time, Joel. I know she will,” you say encouragingly as the wind laces through your silky hair, blowing it just enough for him to see the pretty blush painting your cheeks pink.

   You’re so fucking beautiful.

   His deep bravado voice drops an octave as he looks up through glassy eyes at the sunshine of a woman sitting before him. “How do you know?” he asks quietly.

   You just shrug and smile. “I just know, okay?”

   “Mmm.” Sitting back in his rocking chair, he thinks and thinks over your encouraging words, analyzing them like tiny jigsaw pieces. A puzzle that just can’t be put together. You never were the type to linger on sadness. Never seemed to let a rainy day cloud your joy. You were always so carefree, always bringing rainbows after destructive thunderstorms. Always just there.

   Slowly, steadily, your fingers curl around his dark green flannel, hooking underneath his bicep. And your eyes, like a warm summer’s day, shine brighter than he’s ever seen them shine before. Just like shimmering sparkles under a starlit sky. Embers and all. “Hope is like a migrating butterfly. It spreads its long wings and takes off in the morning sky. The butterfly may not return to the same place for quite some time, but it always seems to come back to the place it came from. Eventually, it returns home. She’ll come back, Joel. Ellie will come home.”

   His eyes cloud over, foggy from the tears building in his dark brown irises. And when one slips free and slides down his cheek, falling like a raindrop and landing on top of your hand, you don’t pull away. You stay. No one else had stayed. But here you are, smiling up at him like he’s the center of your gravity. Like he’s worth something to you. 

   And then something happens. Something he hasn’t done in so long. He smiles. He smiles at the pretty girl that turned his entire birthday upside down. He smiles because you stayed when no one else did.

   You stayed.

   “Think you jus’ might’ve struck some hope inside me after that speech, darlin’,” he drawls, brown eyes sparkling into yours.

   “Glad I could be of service,” you giggle, your hand brushing over the fabric of his soft flannel. And there you go. Giving him that breathtaking smile. He wishes you’d never leave.

   “Look at you. Ruinin’ my plans of sulkin’ for the rest of the evenin’.”

   You tilt your head and give him that look. A look like you want to drown out all his sorrows. “Why are you sulking in the first place?”

   Sighing loudly, he rakes a hand slowly down his patchy beard and stares out into the void of the green and yellow leaves littering the ground. “‘Cause it’s my birthday. And I got nothin’ to celebrate.”

   You sit forward in your seat, drawing your hand back to your lap and staring all wide-eyed at him like you just can’t believe he’d be alone. “It’s your birthday?”

   “Mhm,” he hums, feeling the excruciating pain of losing Ellie all over again. 

   “What are you doing spending it alone, then?” you whisper, heartbreaking eyes tearing his soul in two.

   He pushes a hand painfully slow through his windblown curls and takes a deep breath as he thinks of that stupid fight he and Tommy got in. “Me and Tommy had a fight the other day. Reckon he doesn't wanna see me for a few more days after that. Maria’s on Tommy’s side. And Ellie… well. You know. Needless to say, I got no one to celebrate with.”

   Silence permeates through the cool air, a deafening noise that rings through his ears. He wishes you’d say something, anything. Break the lull that hangs like a thick, impenetrable wall in the sky. Maybe you too are having second thoughts of being here alone with him in his suffering.

   “Can you just… wait here for a few minutes?” you ask, pushing yourself up and hanging over the thresholds of his rickety porch.

   He takes a minute to digest your words, thinking you won’t come back. “I suppose. Not goin’ anywhere. Why?” he asks hesitantly, his voice hoarse from the thought of you disappearing too.

   “Just wait here. There’s something I forgot,” you plea, your pretty smile telling him you’ll be back.

   Before you take a step off the porch, he stops you. “You don’t have to, you know. Come back, I mean.”

   You give him a small smile, your hair blowing softly in the wind, tangling around your beautiful face. An angel cast in shadows from the purple and pink painted sunlit skies. “Nobody deserves to be alone on their birthday, Joel. Not even you,” you say in a soft, lilty voice. 

   You hang there a second, just watching each other. Waiting for something, but he doesn’t know what. And eventually, you take that step off the porch. “Be right back! Just wait here,” you shout, running off into the sunset.

   “Alright,” he whispers, watching you go. And then you disappear down the street, practically sprinting back to your house or back to the bar. He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he hopes you come back. 

   Please, come back. 

   He fidgets in his chair, trying his best not to pull out the greys from his tousled curls. His chest feels tight, like his button-up shirt is stifling the chilly air all around him. He feels choked up, like something is lodged deep in his throat. Feels like he drank too much whiskey, palms sweating against his jeans. 

   Lord knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t act like this means anything. But what if it does? What if this is everything he’s waited for? He shouldn’t yearn for you, shouldn’t pine mindlessly for the pretty bartender that’s way too young for him to be falling for. But he fell head over heels the first moment you said hi to him in the bar. Your smooth fingertips brushing against his when you passed him a glass of whiskey. It felt like fire smothering his insides, igniting dangerous feelings that he should’ve never developed in the first place. 

   He shouldn’t have fallen for you, but he did. And now, he was wrecked. 

   You come walking back just minutes later, your hands behind your back, something hidden behind your jacket. And when you make your way back up to the porch, you hold out a single muffin with a blue birthday candle placed right in the center.

   “What’s this?” he asks, eyes wide as you place it in the palm of his hand.

   “A blueberry muffin. I just made them this morning. I hope you like blueberries. It’s not much, but it was made with love and care. So here, something sweet that I hope will brighten up your day.” 

   He stares in awe at the fluffy muffin, blueberries scattered around the pastry. His eyes mist over, tears licking at the edges, threatening to spill at any moment. He’s not used to this kind of treatment. Someone being nice, thoughtful, acting like he’s special. 

   He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you.

   “Th—thank you…” he chokes out, holding back tears.

   “Happy birthday, Joel,” you smile, lighting the candle and making shadows cast over his palm from the flame. “Make a wish.”

   “Think it already came true…” he whispers. 

   Your eyes meet, tension thick in the air, smiles bouncing off each other's mouths. And when he blows out the flame, you give him a quick, fleeting kiss to the cheek. A kiss that’ll surely never wash off his skin. It’ll stick like permanent ink until his mouth hangs over yours.

   “You’re a sweet little thing, ain’t ya?” he asks, his skin tinged red from the blush you’ve painted over his tanned skin. 

   “Sweeter than a shaker of sugar?” you giggle out. A laugh that sounds like music to his ears.

   “Sweeter than sugar, darlin’,” he confirms with a wide grin.

   His hand finds yours, lacing his fingers through until your warmth is mixing with his. And as the sun goes down, stars igniting the sky in glitter, you lean your head on his shoulder while you tell him stories of your past. He could listen to you all night. He thinks he could listen to you forever. 

   You stay there until midnight, fingers entwined together, his hand pushing a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, memorizing your perfect smile and dazzling eyes. And just before you go, he pulls you in for a kiss. A kiss that could make the entire world stop. Because in that moment, on your soft lips, he thinks he found heaven. 

   Just as you turn to go, a figure emerges from the dark shadows, leaving him breathless and dumbstruck from the sight. He rubs his eyes, figuring he’s seeing things. Maybe the sleepless nights have finally got to him. But your encouraging smile says it’s real.

   “Joel, look. She came back,” you smile, eyes glossy just like his are now. 

   She hesitates out in the road, jaw locked and eyes watery. Those big hazel eyes haven’t changed a bit. 

   Ellie. She came back. She’s here…

   And just like a butterfly, she spreads her wings and waves, mouthing happy birthday as she lingers by the open mailbox. But that’s enough. That’s one step to fixing a promise he broke. 

   “Ellie,” he calls, voice cracking as tears drop down his face. 

   “Joel,” she nods, giving him a half-smile. “Can I… can I come in?” she asks hesitantly.

   “‘Course you can, kiddo.”

   And it’s then, right at that moment, where everything fell back into place. Right when she stepped back into his life. He has a feeling you had something to do with it, but he’ll thank you for that later. Maybe tomorrow when he stops by your house and asks for some more blueberry muffins. 

   Today will go down in history as one of his favorites because he got the girl, and Ellie came back home. He got his birthday wish after all. 

[papipedroo]

Unwelcome (Joel Miller x Reader)

Part Three of Whiskey Tears

Rated: Angst | Violence | Fluff | Suggestive | Age Gap | Assault | Language

Summary: You, Joel, and Ellie have been a trio from the start. You were a family, but you find your relationship with Joel withering when he starts to pull away. Now a new comer makes her way into Jackson and into Joel’s heart…

“Joel.”

Two months have gone by since that day and everything seemed to be slowly slipping away from your fingers. You were having trouble adjusting, but you were having even more trouble at the thought of loosing Joel.

“Joel.” Your fingers wrapped around his arm and you gently shook him.

He didn’t touch her or kiss her, but her presence was just there. Always around him. Always driving a wedge between the two of you.

“Joel. It’s time to wake up.” You spoke softly.

It hurt and so you argued more than you ever have. Even before when you were a firefly, neither of you argued this much. You argued until there was nothing left. Until your breath could barely keep you alive.

His eyes opened to find you kneeling beside him on the floor. You were beautiful… You were always beautiful to him. He glanced to the window where the sun was already high up in the sky.

“Where are the others?” He asked.

“Ellie is at the barn again, apparently she’s got a real knack in taking care of the horses. You two might just get your sheep farm on the moon soon.” You spoke softly as you brushed loose curls away from his face.

His hair was getting longer and it made you smile, “You need a haircut love.”

“Don’t wanna do it.” He mumbled.

“I’ll do it later tonight.” You rubbed your thumb against his cheek, taking in the precious moment between the two of you.

He leaned into your touch making your heart jumped before worried settled in at the dark circles under his eyes.

“You need to stop sleeping on the couch Joel.” You sighed as you rubbed his arm, “You need your bed.”

“But you need—” He began to say, but you didn’t let him finish.

“I know.” You sighed before getting up, “Come, we have to meet with Maria and Tommy soon. Maria says she has some good news.”

Joel nodded his head as he sat up, his back aching from the couch. If only he was younger, this would feel like nothing. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so insecure when it came to you. He silently got up and made his way to the bathroom to get ready.

You were pouring him some coffee when he appeared in the kitchen.

“Your shirt is on backwards.” You spoke teasingly.

“Shit.” He muttered as he took off his shirt because you were in fact right.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes raked over his chest. He wasn’t overly fit, but he had muscles where it count. Your cheeks heat up as you remember the night you were able to touch him, run your hands across his chest over each scar he had. You didn’t realize how much you missed that and the only thing you could do is bite your lip to keep yourself from hopping across the counter and jump him.

“And what about Heather?” Joel asked once his shirt was fixed.

You took a sharp breath and your feelings turned sour, “She’s with Mikel.” You explained shortly.

His brows furrowed, “Mikel is supposed to be on patrol today.”

You nodded your head, “He’s going to be teaching her the ropes now that she’s been here for a while and settled in.”

“I could have done that.” He stated gruffly, “After what she’s been through, she is not very trusting towards anyone.”

You took in a sharp breath, “Everyone has been through something Joel.” You said carefully, “I asked Maria about it and we agreed Mikel would be a great fit for her. I was on a route with him when you disappeared, he’s my age and very capable of protecting her if need be.” You encouraged, “Besides, you and I go on patrol, you wouldn’t have the time to do both.”

“So you decided this on your own without asking me about my opinion?” He asked gruffly, a sharp edge to his tone.

You looked down at the counter. You were too embarrassed to admit that you did decide without asking him because you were scared he wouldn’t choose you.

“It’s you and I.” You stated as your voice wavered, “It’s been you and I.”

Silence grew between the two of you.

“Not always.” He finally said in a tone so soft you wouldn’t think it would come from Joel Miller himself.

And boy did what he say hurt you then any physical fight you have ever been in. What could you say to him? To be able to have him hold you in his arms again? To stop dragging you through rusted nails… You just wanted to stop hurting and he just kept pounding on the nails with a hammer.

“I am here now.” Your voice wavered, “Standing right in front of you. I am here, alive and bleeding out to you.”

You could see the wavering look in his eyes, “You’re too young.”

You held your ground, “You can’t keep pushing me away Joel.”

He shook his head, deciding that staring at the wall behind your seemed more interesting then the tears forming in your eyes, “I can’t do that to you.”

“Do what?” You quickly walked around the counter to face him, “Love me? Because if so why did you kiss me huh? Why did you touch me? Why give me hope that you could actually love me back? Tell me then. Tell me that you don’t love me.”

Your fury grew when his silence lingered.

“Tell me Joel!” You yelled at him and in that moment you were glad that Ellie wasn’t in the house.

He didn’t answer… He didn’t want to because he knew what he would say and he knew that would be the end of him. Instead he turned and did what he always did… Keep everything buried.

“Come on. We’ll be late.” He turned and walked to the front door without touching the coffee you made him.

You glared at him with nothing with but a heart filled with fiery, “It’s because you love me too. Isn’t it?”

His shoulders stiffened, but that was all the answer he would give you as he walked away.

You gave a small sigh before following after him.

It was long before you were hopping up the steps to Tommy and Maria’s home. Joel trailed behind you as you knocked on the door.

Not even a moment later and Maria was greeting you with her famous smile.

“Good morning.” You returned her smile and gave her a hug.

She gave you a tight squeeze, “Good morning.” She ushered you both inside, “Tommy’s making breakfast or at least trying to.”

“Oh boy.” You breathed out a laugh as the two of you followed her into their little breakfast nook by the kitchen.

“Mornin.” Joel greeted his brother.

You pulled out Joel’s chair before taking your seat as Maria brought over two mugs of tea.

“Thank you, I needed this.” You breathed out as you held the mug.

Your eyes then flickered to Joel pulling out a chair and sitting across from you.

Of course he’d do that. You sighed. Always one for the dramatics.

You were upset that he didn’t want to sit next to you, but you figured it was because of the conversation you both had earlier. Maria took a seat beside you instead, a small smile on her face as she watched Tommy bring over what was a poor attempt at omelets.

“Don’t say one word.” Tommy’s voice was playful as he barely scolded Maria.

Maria raised her hands up in mock surrender, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” Tommy huffed with a small laugh as he took his seat as the head of his table.

“I think that food speaks for itself.” Joel joked.

“It looks… Edible none the least.” You murmured as you picked out egg shells, “You wont hear me complaining.”

“It’s perfect hunny.” Maria smiled as she leaned over a placed a kiss on Tommy’s cheek.

Your heart melted at the sight and an ache filled it. You could only dream of being that way with Joel… The things you would do just to get that man to show you that he loved you too.

The rest of breakfast was going over the upkeep of Jackson and the repairs that needed to be done. Apparently Liza and Julio’s spotted one of the perimeter fences on the east wall being bent inward from the snow the has been pilling up against it and some of the vegetables aren’t doing so well with the cold.

“We should get a group together to fix the fence first.” You said, “I can help out as well.”

“As for the vegetables… This winter is a lot worse then the previous ones we’ve had. We will have to make do with the vegetable we got until we get to warmer weather.” Maria stated.

“That sounds good.” Tommy agreed, “And I will put together a team after our breakfast to start working on the wall. I’ll let you know if we need any help, but thank you for the offer.”

“Of course Tommy.” You nodded your head.

“I also want to switch patrol routes with Mikel.” Joel announced at the table as breakfast was beginning to come to an end.

You looked away from your food and towards him within a second of his words appearing from his mouth, “Why? I thought our route for this week was pretty good.”

“No. I want Mikel to start taking you out on patrol.” He stated simply.

You dropped your fork, “Why? Did I do something wrong? Is this about earlier?”

“No.” He said again and you swore it was his favorite word, “You said it yourself. He’s younger and stronger. That means he can protect you.”

“I don’t want him to protect me.” You glowered, “I have you.”

“No. You don’t.” He stated gruffly, “You can’t rely on me forever.”

“I’m not relying on you! I pull my weight just as much as you do. We’re a team and you can’t just split us up.” You yelled at hi, “I won’t let you.”

He stood up abruptly with a scowl, “Enough! Fuck just listen to me for once! I’m doing this for you!”

“For me?” You stood up as well with a scoff, “You know what, I’ll listen to you when you start making sense Joel!”

“I don’t want you! Can you listen to that?!” He yelled and suddenly the room went silent.

“Fuck you Joel.” You murmured before storming away.

“Have your fucking switch then! See if I care!” You yelled before slamming the door.

“Good job Joel.” Maria rolled her eyes. She stood up and began to collect the dishes, “When are you going to stop being an asshole and realize that you need her just as much as she needs you?” She stated before walking away to put the dishes in the sink.

She rushed to the door to put on her shoes and coat before going to find you. You were more important to her than some dirty dishes that she can clean later.

Joel sighed as he slumped down into his seat.

“What’s going on brother?” Tommy asked.

Joel didn’t speak, not for a few minutes. He was trying his best to keep himself from loosing his shit.

“Nothing.” He mumbled.

“Well that’s a stupid answer coming from you.” Tommy laughed.

“I’m old Tommy.” Joel sighed.

“Yeah.” Tommy laughed, “We’re all old and what’s your point?”

“She’s not.” He stated simply.

A realization dawned across Tommy’s voice, “Is that why you are pushing her away?”

“She deserves more than an old man.” Joel sighed in defeat, “I just wish she would see that.”

“That’s not for you to decide.” Tommy pointed out, “That’s her decision and I can see that she’s not going to change it.”

“But I can help her change it.” Joel said as he looked up at his brother, “Just help me make her see that. That Mikel kid or whoever could be good for her. She needs someone her age and I need someone my age. That’s how it should be.”

“So what? Is that why you’re so attached to Heather? Because you feel like you’re not enough for the girl who has been in love with you for months just because she’s a little younger?”

“It’s not just a little younger.” Joel grumbled,

Tommy shook his head as he stood up, “I’m not going to help you break her heart.”

“You did this with Ellie too and look how that turned out?”

Tommy placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder, “You deserve happiness too, brother.”

“And she deserves someone who is strong enough to protect her.” Joel replied, a solemn tone to his voice.

You soon found yourself scrubbing aggressively at the bar counter.

“Fuck him.” You grumbled as you cleaned, “And not in the good way. Not like he’s been wanting that lately.”

Maria nodded her head, “I’ll admit he is being a dick.”

“Who’s being a dick?” Ellie hopped up on a barstool.

“Joel.” You and Maria both said at the same time.

That is until you did a double take to see that it is Ellie.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working at the barn?” You asked inquisitively, “What are you doing here?”

“I finished all my tasks and saw you both in the window. Why is Joel being a dick?”

“Sweetie, you can’t call him that.” You scolded her lightly, “And he’s not… He’s just…”

“Being a dick.” Maria stated simply.

Her input made the three of you burst out laughing. You smiled at the lighten mood as you reached for a glass. You poured Ellie some water before setting it infront of her.

“Can’t I get some of that?” She asked, pointing to your glass that you were currently filling with whiskey.

You shook your head, “Not until you’re old enough.”

“But it’s the apocalypse?” Ellie looked at you confused.

“Doesn’t mean someone as young as you can drink.” You crossed your arms.

Ellie sighed, “Yes mom.”

“Maybe just talk to him later tonight. Find the real reason about his decision.” Maria advised.

I nodded my head before looking at Ellie, “I’m not going to lie to you. Joel and I are arguing. Can you please stay with Maria and Tommy tonight so I can talk to him?”

Ellie nodded her head slowly, “Why are you two arguing? Is it because of Heather cause if so I don’t like her.”

I sighed, “It’s hard to explain and even harder to talk about it. I won’t talk badly about your dad, not in front of you.”

It was late by the time you went home after you dropped Ellie off at Maria and Tommy’s. They gave you some good news that cheered you up a bit. It might just be the change you both needed. Now all you had to do was tell him. You were just trying to get the courage to step inside your front door.

You finally stepped inside and was met with the lights being on, but no one around.

“Joel?” You called out to him as you took your shoes off.

He didn’t answer you, but you could hear soft muffled voices coming from upstairs. You took a step, each one leading you up the stairs and down to Joel’s room… The door was already wide open and an unwelcome feeling filled your gut as you got closer. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know what lied behind the doorway.

Your body however, carried you into the room. Relief filled your chest at seeing the bed empty and left how you made it in the morning. You glanced around the room to the light that flooded out from the bathroom. You stepped closer to the door, a female laugh fluttering from it making your stomach twist and your chest tighten at what you saw.

Joel sat on a stool that was definitely taken from the kitchen and a bath towel draped around him. Heather stood with a pair of scissors as she cut at the ends of his hair. This was thing that you were supposed to do not her.

“You’re cutting his hair.” Your voice was dull as you repeated what you saw.

“Oh! Yes, I forgot my hair tie when I left this morning so I came back and overheard you telling Joel that he needed a haircut and I thought I might help out and give him one.” Heather smiled at you.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Your gaze flickered to Joel’s who was staring at you from the mirror. He could see the fallen expression on your face and the way that you were holding back your tears.

“I think she can finish my hair Heather.” Joel said without taking his eyes off of you.

“But…” Heather tried to say something else, but he cut her off.

“Thank you.” He said simply.

Heather released a huff before walking towards you and handing you the scissors before leaving.

“C’mere.” He spoke with a gentleness in his tone that you haven’t heard in months. That tone always made you shiver and you felt like he knew that. Of course he did, he’s fucking observant when he wants to be.

You felt like your emotions were going to explode as you stepped towards him. The events of earlier today and now walking in on seeing the person you wanted to punch in the face touching your Joel’s hair… You were either going to punch the man or kiss him depending on his explanation.

“I know you wanted to do it, but she was insistent that she could do it because she used to cut her husband’s hair before he died and she missed it… I had a hard time saying no.” He explained carefully as if he were talking to a stray cat and maybe you were in that moment, but his explanation seemed to apease you enough.

You nodded your head. You didn’t want to argue, not after today. You ran your fingers through his hair before taking a few strands to trim.

“I don’t like how we left off earlier.” You spoke softly.

“I know.” Joel sighed, “I don’t either.”

“I really don’t want to go on patrol with Mikel. I want to stay with you.” You pleaded lightly.

Joel furrowed his brow, “That’s not up for debate.”

“It shouldn’t even be on the table.” You muttered as you took another strand of his hair, a huff passing your lips in frustration, “I don’t like the way she cut your hair.”

Joel chuckled and warmth filled your stomach at the sound, “Then fix it firefly.”

You continued to cut Joel’s hair the way you knew he liked it. The way that it made you want to run your fingers through his hair every second of the day. After some time in a peaceful silence, you spoke up to tell him about the news you heard from Maria and Tommy when you dropped Ellie off earlier.

“I have some good news.” You spoke timidly, “About Heather.”

“What is it?” He asked.

“Well… Maria and Tommy just informed me that Tris will gladly take Heather as a roommate. Apparently, they’ve been getting along really well together since Heather arrived here. Tris’s house is as big as ours and she says feels lonely having the house to herself.”

Joel took a moment to respond before he asked, “Does Heather know about this yet?”

“Not yet.” You whispered, “Maria and Tris are going to come by for lunch tomorrow to talk it over.”

“I see.” Joel nodded.

“Hey.” I giggled lightly as I barely smacked him on the shoulder, “Don’t move your head or do you want to go bald?”

“I prefer my hair thanks.” Joel grumbled with a small chuckle.

You smiled when he held still, “Better.”

When you finished trimming his hair it looked much neater and yet it had an un-tameness to it that made you bite your bottom lip. You felt a terrible idea pop into your head as you set the pair of scissors down before standing behind Joel. He looked at himself in the mirror with contomept.

“It looks good.” He agreed with your thoughts.

You ran your fingers through his hair as if you were smoothing it out until your fingers curled and you began to massaged his scalp.

His reaction was almost immediate as he leaned back against you on the stool. You could see his eyes roll to the back of his head as he let out a quite hm. It made you want to laugh at how pliable he was when you massage his head.

“I like it too.” You murmured to which he couldn’t quite process.

“Mm.” He agreed.

“How was your day?” You asked when you spotted the way his face scrunched up in pain when he moved his body.

“Had to rebuild that fence, go huntin with Tommy.” He murmured with a grunt, “Found a buck.”

“You must be exhausted. It was really cold today.” You continued to massage his head.

“Twas nothin.” He replied, but you knew better. You knew how sore he could get after a long day.

“I think it’s time we should head to bed, hm?” You asked in a soft tone as to not startle him.

“Mmhm.” He agreed without a second thought.

You leaned down a pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Come on then.”

You took the towel off his shoulders before leading him to his bed. He was too exhausted to argue with you as you made him lie down. You took his jeans, leaving him in his boxers and shirt as you covered him with his blanket.

“Good night Joel.” You whispered to him.

Your plan was to sleep on the couch tonight so that he could get some rest. You quietly slipped out of the room once you headed his breath even out. Your footsteps padded across the cold wood floors. You made sure to grab an extra blanket before padding over to the couch that Joel’s been using as a bed this past week. Of course his blanket was neatly folded on the side table with his pillow placed on top.

A small hum slipped passed your lips as you began to make your bed for the night. Hopefully it will be as comfortable as Joel has tried to make you believe.

“You’re really desperate aren’t you.” A voice carried its way from the kitchen entrance.

“Excuse me?” You turned to Heather with a shocked look.

“Desperation it’s dripping off of you like melted snow.” Heather said as if she was talking about the weather, “And your insecurity too, very unflattering might I add. When did your father die? I just want to know when your daddy issues started or have you always had a thing for older men?”

I stood up straight as I glared at you, “Just what’s your plan here? You really think you can throw insults at me and I would just crumble?”

“Oh I’m not insulting you at all. I’m just saying what I see and I don’t see much. Goodnight.” She smiled before walking away, leaving you there fuming.

What in the world was that about?

“I can’t wait for her to get out of my fucking house.” You muttered as you lied down on the couch.

You came to as you felt the warm glow of the sun hit your face. You stretched your arms as you yawned, rolling over to stretch further on your bed. Only you weren’t on your bed and you soon felt gravity as you fell onto the floor with a thud.

“Ow…” You groaned as you blinked your eyes open.

“Mornin.” Came Joel’s deep voice that felt like melted butter and whiskey.

“Fuck… Don’t do that.” You groaned as you rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hand.

His brows furrowed in confusion, “Do what?”

“Say mornin’ like you just came back from doing hard labor.” You huffed.

“But I did just come back from doing that.” He chuckled.

He did? Wait. Is his shirt off?

“Huh?” You asked dazed.

You tilted your head to find him leaning against the entry way with a mug of coffee in his hand, shirt intact. A bubble of disappointment filled your face until you spotted his smirk.

Shit… He knew what I was thinking. Of course he did.

You grumbled incoherent words, no doubt insults towards the older man as you stood up.

Joel watched you get up, he couldn’t help it. His eyes traced the skin visible from where your shirt had risen up as you slept. It was only, but a second before he shook those unwelcome thoughts away.

“Talked with Tommy, Ellie wants you to work with her at the barn.” Joel relayed the message he was given, “She’s waitin for ya.”

“Work at the barn? But I’m not that good with horses…” You sighed lightly in defeat, “But for Ellie, I’ll go get ready.”

“Atta girl.” He was grinning now and you knew he was remembering the last time you tried to saddle up your horse.

You weren’t bad at taking care of and saddling up horses so to say… You just weren’t that good at it either.

“Don’t.” You muttered.

“Wasn’t going to.” He mused as he took a sip of his coffee.

You padded over to him and reached your hand out, “Gimme.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Get your own, firefly.”

“I don’t want to get my own. I just want a sip. Please.” You reached towards his mug again.

He didn’t even try to pull it away from you. He just let you grab the mug out of his hand and drink the coffee he made for himself. How he was, the way he acted… It was like before.

Was this all because I massaged his head? You mused to yourself as you took another sip of his coffee. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his rugged handsome face. He looked a lot more rested. You noted.

You also noticed the way his eyes seemed to be staring at the way your lips wrapped around the rim of his mug.

“Morning you two!” The spry voice had you jumping.

You had forgotten that she was here.

“Morning.” Joel greeted.

You nodded at her, not wanting to greet her with a good morning after the way she spoke to you last night. You wondered if you should tell Joel what she said… Then you wondered if he would believe you over her.

He was in such a good mood though, you didn’t want to ruin anything.

“Tris and Maria are coming by for lunch, they want to talk to you about something.” You said to her as politely as you possibly could.

“They did? Well I don’t have any work today so I suppose I can tidy up the house a bit and make lunch for when they arrive.” Heather agreed.

As long as she agrees to moving out then I don’t care what she does.

Heather then poured herself a cup of coffee before looking towards Joel, “Do you want a cup handsome?” She asked him with a light tone.

A scowl made its way onto your face. You held up the mug you were holding towards her.

“He’s got some, but thanks.” You stated smugly as you handed Joel his coffee mug back.

He brought his mug up to his lips and took a sip from where your lips were just moments before. He looked none the wiser at the two women about to scratch each other’s eyes out. Of course he didn’t. Joel was never good at feelings.

You could see a scowl quickly appear and disappear on Heather’s face before she was back to her cheerful self.

“Okay, well there’s more here if anyone wants some.” She said before taking a sip.

You left the two and emerged fifteen minutes later dressed and ready to head out. Joel who was now sitting at the kitchen table with Heather talking about how Joel had to go help his brother today so he couldn’t help Heather clean the house.

You stepped up beside Joel, standing next to him while he remained seated. You ran your right hand through his freshly trimmed haircut, something that he didn’t mind at all.

“I’m going to head out to see Ell’s. Do you want me to pick up anything while I’m gone?” You asked him and only him.

Heather was leaving soon. You thought dismissively. Good riddance.

“We’re out of carrots. Maybe the two of you can stop by the garden and pick some up?” Joel asked.

You nodded your head as your hand traveled down to the side of his neck, “Anything else?” You asked as you rubbed the sliver of skin that wasn’t hidden by his flannel.

“No…” Joel said, his voice much lower than before as he glanced down at his coffee mug.

You gave Heather a triumphant look before stepping away, “See you later.” You waved them off before leaving.

It wasn’t long before I was met with an excited Elli who jumped on my back the moment she saw me.

“Soooo? How did it go? Was my leaving all for not?” She pressed, wanting to get all the gossip, “Shall I get my pitchfork?”

“I think everything went well.” I said as I smiled softly to myself.

I carried her over to the stables, trying my best not to topple over with the growing girl. I aware she was getting taller by the day.

“Maria told me that Heather’s finally leaving!” Ellie fist pumped the air by my head, “Dude, I swear she is weird as hell. Definitely hiding a bomb or something.”

I laughed as I set her down by the barn doors, “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

I faced her with my hands on my hips, “Now little bug. What is our mission today?”

A wide grin spread across her face as she clapped her hands, “Have you ever trimmed hooves before?”

My face fell, “Don’t tell me…”

“Yep!” Ellie exclaimed, “Get ready to possibly be bit, stepped on, and kicked.”

My eyes widened at her words.

“Let’s get to it!” Ellie stated as she grew open the barn doors.

“Oh boy.” I sighed, but followed my daughter nonetheless.

The sun was high in the sky by the time you and Ellie were walking down our street. The two of you were holding hands as Ellie swung your linked hands as hard as she could. Your other hand was carrying a small bag of carrots that Joel had asked for and you hoped he’d be pleased that you remembered.

The two of you were laughing as Ellie recounted your great fail at trying to keep Buttercup still.

“I still can’t believe she pushed you over.” Ellie laughed as you both walked into the house, “Joel!” She yelled.

The two of your were giggling as you entered the living room to find the two of them on the couch. Heather was in a mess of tears, clinging to Joel who was trying to console her.

“Uh…” Ellie’s voice trailed off in confusion, “What’s going on?”

You left to place the bag of carrots on the kitchen counter before returning to the living room to listen to Joel explain.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Joel explained as Heather buried her face into his shirt.

He was quick to pull her into his side and settle her. That movement made you frown as you watched the two. Why the hell is she snuggling up to him? Why is he allowing it?

“About what?” You asked as you looked between the two skeptically.

“About leaving. She doesn’t want to go.” Joel explained.

“I’m sorry!” Heather sobbed and you couldn’t tell if she was really crying or if she was that good of an actress.

“It’s just I don’t feel comfortable around anyone else.” She continued, her voice laced with guilt and remorse.

“What do you mean? You and Tris get along great. I know that because she told me that herself.” You crossed your arms, not buying the ‘I’m scared act’, “She said that you two go out for lunch together almost everyday.”

“I know, but that’s different than living with someone. She’s the first friend that I made here and I just don’t want to ruin it. I can’t bring myself to leave, I’m so sorry dear.” Heather carried on as she wiped her tears.

You sighed, not liking the idea of trying to console her, but you would use any means if it would get her out. It’s been weeks now and you’ve just about had enough, especially after last night.

“I’m sure to won’t be too bad.” You tried to persuade her, “It might be nice living with someone your age.”

“But you have proved it yourself that’s not the case.” She countered as she motioned to Joel and Ellie.

“I’m just gonna go…” Ellie made a motion to go upstairs and you nodded before she ran away.

Lucky girl.

“I don’t want to be a burden to any of you. I really am sorry for my decision, please don’t hate me.” Heather insisted, “I really would love for us to be friends.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. Like hell you want to be friends and you you’ve been a burden since you set foot through my door.

“I’m sorry, hate you?” You huffed as you popped your hip out with a knowing look, “After what you said last night, that word doesn’t even cover it. So yeah I do. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

“Be nice.” Joel scolded with a low tone directed towards me.

“You don’t know what she—“ You tried to explain what happened last night. How small she made you feel, but Heather wouldn’t allow it.

She leaned into Joel as her panic attack rose, “I didn’t say anything I swear I didn’t. I just want to belong here. You saved me Joel, please don’t abandon me. I can’t bear the thought of being alone.”

“I won’t abandon you… You can stay here.” Joel insisted which made your blood boil.

Was he being serious right now?

“Joel.” You turned your attention to him, trying your best to keep from shouting, “Can I talk to you for a minute in private?”

Joel nodded his head before following out to the front porch.

“You can’t let her stay.” You said the moment the door shut behind you both.

“She said that she thought it over some more and she wouldn’t feel comfortable living with someone she doesn’t really know.” He sighed.

But she’s been living with us. I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.

“Please just trust me.” You grabbed his arm with a pleading look on your face, “I’m being serious right now Joel. You don’t know her that well. Hell, none of us do. I swear she’s been acting strange the moment you brought her here. First my room, then breakfast and taking over my tasks, trying to cut your hair. Not to mention the fact that she said that I—”

You could see the way his face came to a conclusion of something and you had hoped that maybe then he was realizing what you had been seeing since day one, but of course… You were wrong.

“You’re jealous.” He stated simply.

“What?” You shook your head at the audacity of this man, “No, I’m not.”

He pulled his arm from your grip, “Yes. Yes you are. That’s why you’ve been acting like she has some kind of vendetta against you. She told me you were jealous and that’s why you have been mean to her, but I didn’t think you would go this far to push her out of our lives after the horror she’s experienced.”

You felt a strong punch to your gut as you listened to him speak. The way he spoke about her as if your feelings meant nothing to him made you want to scream.

“She’s the nicest person in this town and has been nothing, but kind to you and Ellie. She’s scared and you’re only making it worse for her to settle in here.” He finished with a sigh.

She doesn’t know us. You don’t understand. Why won’t you listen? You thought angrily.

“Are you being serious right now?” You glared at him, “You’re… You’re defending her over me?”

“I’m not defending no one. I’m saying that you’re taking this too far.” He ran a hand through his unruly hair with a huff, “You need to put your feelings aside for me and realize that she just wants to feel at home somewhere. After what she’s been through, she needs comfort and we can give that to her.”

Angry tears formed in your eyes, but you held them back. You couldn’t believe what Joel was saying and it hurt how much he wasn’t listening to you.

“Fuck you and fuck her comfort! I don’t feel comfortable! Right now. Right here. Hell, this past week I have felt anything but comfort. I feel unwelcome in my own home Joel.” You cried out.

“Don’t do this firefly. You need to start letting people in. That’s what you told me when we first met remember?” He placed a hand on your shoulder, “Who knows… Maybe it’s best that she stays. The three of you can help each other feel at home here.”

“Her help us? We’ve been just fine on our own, thank you. The three of us! No more and no less!” You shoved him which barely made him move.

He remained silent as he let you rant, his hand falling back to his side.

“I don’t want her here. I want her gone Joel.” You stated firmly, “Ellie doesn’t want her here either.”

Joel sigh as he crossed his arms, “Heather told me about the things you said to her last night. The horrible things you said to her and the threats you made.” Joel said suddenly with a disapproving tone to his voice, “I thought you were better than that especially after what you went through. I thought you of all people would make someone feel welcomed.”

You felt small under his gaze as you tried to explain yourself, “Of course I would try to make everyone feel welcome and I did Joel. I did try, but she…” Your brows furrowed, “I didn’t say anything to her last night…” Your eyes widened at the realization of what she was doing. She was pitting Joel against you with lies and it was working… Again.

That final thought made you snap as you stepped away from Joel.

“That bitch.” You seethed as you rushed into the house.

“What are you doing? Wait! Don’t!” Joel yelled from behind you, but you were on a mission.

You bounded up the steps, much faster than Joel could as you raced to your room. You had a feeling that she was gloating with her new success in making Joel turn against you. Of course she did, she was downright evil. The door banged against the wall as you shoved it open, finding her sitting at the foot of your bed.

“How dare you come into my home and try to turn him against me.” You sneered as you took quick steps towards her, “I didn’t say anything to you, it was you who has been fucking with me ever since you’ve gotten here! What is your goal here? To take over my life?”

Heather’s eyes widened as an anxious expression appeared on her face, “I have no idea what you are talking about dear—”

It was such a relief seeing her skin turn red as you finally got the chance to slap her across her smug face. Her scream did nothing to stop your anger from rising.

You swiftly grabbed the collar of her shirt before she could get up and run. You wanted to make your threat clear as you glared down at her, “You’re not welcome here.”

Her expression went from panicked to calm as she relaxed in your grip. It unnerved you as you watched her persona change so quickly.

“Oh, but I think I am.” Heather whispered with a smirk, “And soon nobody here will feel safe. Not even your precious Ellie.”

That hit a nerve in you at the mention of Ellie’s name.

“Fuck you.” You spat in her face as you lunged yourself on top of her.

You pinned her down to the bed as she gasped for breath. Your hands wrapped around her throat and she desperately tried to claw at your hands, but nothing nudged you.

The only thing that you could feel was a motherly rage at the mention of Ellie not being safe. You would burn this entire town down before letting that happen.

Die. Die. Die. Die.

It was a blink of an eye before you were roughly pulled off of her and thrown into your old dresser. The dresser shook and a picture frame of you, Joel, and Ellie toppled to the ground with a sickening crack. You gasped at the impact as pain rippled through your side and you had a feeling that it would be bruised in the morning.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Joel raised his voice, directing his anger towards you.

“You don’t understand!” You yelled at him as you gripped onto the dresser to keep yourself from falling to the floor, “Can you not see it or are you too blinded by the helpless victim act?”

“I think you should leave tonight.” Joel stated, his eyes flickered to you leaning into the dresser, but said nothing of it. He wasn’t aware of how much strength he used when he pulled you off of Heather. The only thing currently running through his head was not seeing anyone die tonight.

“What? Leave?” You looked up at him confused, “Did you not hear a word I just said? She is using you!”

Joel sighed, “What could she possibly be using me for? I have nothing to offer.” He shook his head, “I think it’s best you leave and clear your head. Maybe when you get some space you will see that she is not a threat.”

You looked at the woman who cowered on the bed, out of view from Joel, but not from you. You could see the victory in her eyes as she watched Joel protect her and not you.

You looked back to Joel with an empty feeling in your chest, “I want you to remember this moment when you realize I’m right, Miller. Goodbye.”

You swiftly stepped out of the room, ignoring the throbbing pain in your side. You saw Ellie peer out from her room with a concerned and scared expression on her face.

“What… What’s going on?” She asked with a timid voice, “Are you leaving? You’re leaving me?”

You shook your head as tears filled your eyes and quickly pulled her into a hug despite the pain you were feeling, “No of course I’m not leaving. I’m just going to stay with Tommy and Maria tonight, but listen…” You looked back and saw that neither of them had followed you out of the room.

You looked back towards Ellie and whispered in her ear, “Heather is dangerous. I don’t know what she has planned or why yet, but I need you to keep your knife close and keep an eye on Joel l until I figure it out okay?”

“Okay.” Ellie nodded, “I will, I promise.” Her eyes suddenly looked past your shoulder to Joel who was walking out of your room.

“I love you, my daughter.” You kissed her on the top of her head before quickly making your way downstairs, “See you later bug.”

“Love you too mom… See you later…” You heard her broken voice say as you walked out the front door.

I will end you, Heather. I will fucking end you.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Right Person, Wrong Time

Joel Miler x Female Reader

AN: This is for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge. And for once, I did not write smut. I know, who am I? This is not beta'd or really proof read. I'm basically having imposter syndrome over the whole thing soooo...Love you, say it back, bye!

You know that famous saying, “Right Person, Wrong Time”? Well, that was Joel Miller. He had the potential to be the absolute love of your life, but as a single father to a teenage girl and a small business owner, he just didn’t have the time right now. You were about to turn thirty, him thirty six in just a few days time. So, the night before his birthday you made the gut wrenching decision to end things with him. 

“What do you mean we should see other people? There’s no other people.” He proclaimed, eyes filling with tears, mirroring yours.

“It’s just not the right time. I want to get married and have a baby, Joel. Do you really want that?” You have to remain strong, it had only been three months, you hadn’t met Sarah or any of his family. Same with your side, he knew about your sisters but no one else was at risk of being hurt by this break up outside of the two of you. This was the right thing to do before you both got in too deep.

Right Person, Wrong Time.

Almost twenty five years later and you still find yourself replaying that conversation. Every September, Joel flashes behind your eyelids - still perfectly clear, almost like it had just happened yesterday. Dark curly hair, patchy scruff, big brown eyes and furrowed brows; one day he’s going to have a permanent crease between them from all his sexy scowling. If you focus hard enough, you can feel his rough and calloused fingers on your skin. You can still hear his deep and silky voice, almost managing to make you feel lighter every time he said your name or called you darlin’ or sweetheart.

“That feel good, Darlin’?”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

The outbreak happened not even 24 hours after you broke up with him. Had he survived? There’s no way you survived and he didn’t. Your suspicions were confirmed the day Tommy Miller showed up.

For the most part you liked to keep to yourself, running the community garden. You’re thankful for the small and safe community, but word gets around. And when you hear that Tommy’s brother has come to town you shrink even further back into the shadows, unsure if you want to see him again. Would it hurt more if he remembered you, or if he had no memory of you and that conversation that has imprinted itself upon you? Joel Miller is your last memory, both happy and sad, before the world fell apart. 

Him, and the little girl he showed up with, left before you found the courage to approach him and soon winter took over Jackson, leaving you without the garden. Without the distraction from your thoughts of Joel.

The winter is long and brutal. April finally rolls around, and you trudge out into the rain and head to the dining hall for dinner. The gates open in the distance, but you’re lost in your own thoughts. This is more rain than you have seen in months. The garden is going to love it, you think. Just as you’re about to step up the creaky wooden steps you hear your name. It floats across the commune in a deep, gravelly, and oh so familiar voice.

You stop, tears flooding your lash line and the mud squeaking under your rubber boots as you turn to look at him through glassy eyes. Your lips part and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. The world around you melts away. All you can see and hear is Joel Miller. He’s aged, grey peppers his temples and facial hair, he has those lines that you knew he would permanently etched between his brows, but those big brown eyes are like they’ve been frozen in time as they dance around your face.

“It’s you,” he says softly, voice shaking in a mix of sadness and relief, as he takes a few steps towards you. “I-I can’t believe it. I’ve, well…” He rakes his fingers through his soaked curls as you stare at him. The rain is coming down in a steady sheet, the ground becoming a muddy mess, and both of your clothes completely soaked through. You haven’t taken a breath in what feels like hours. 

It’s you.

“I have thought about you almost every day since the world fell apart,” he continues, his warm voice washing over you like molasses. “When I was at my lowest I would think of that little dimple you get when you smile, or that time wine came out of your nose from when you laughed at that stupid joke I made. I don’t remember the joke, but I remember how happy you looked as the sun set and the orange glow lit your skin. I’d remember the way your face scrunched up when you tried whiskey for the first time. I would remember where all your freckles are, and how soft you were against my lips as I kissed every single one. I’d think of that first time we made love, how I’d never felt that overwhelmed with emotion for another person before, how in that moment I realized that I was truly fucked when it came to you. It was anything you wanted, sweetheart. Even if it meant you wanted to break up. I never should have let you go, darin’. I’m so sorry. I tried to find you before we fled for Boston.”

By the time he’s done talking you’re right in front of him, chest grazing his, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. You have no idea how you got that close to him. You don’t remember moving your feet. Joel Miller, your Joel Miller. Greyer, lines around his eyes, but yours.

As the rain pelts down you waste no time, reaching up around his neck as he lifts you up and into his embrace. Your noses graze as you whisper a quiet ‘I missed you so much’ into his lips. 

“I’m never letting you go, baby. Never again.” He says and then you press your lips into his in a searing kiss. It lights your whole body on fire, you feel like you’ve been hit by a defibrillator. 

You’re alive again.

====================

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[hopplessilse]

Fetish II. Eyes don´t lie

Teacher!joel x f!student 18+ explicit minors dni

Serie masterlist

Summary: Mr. Miller gives you more attention than ever, you are his priority, you want to become his favorite student, so a visit to his office doesn't hurt anyone, you just want him to help you solve the topic of your thesis.

Word count: 9.5 k

Warnings: Teacher-student, age gab (reader in her early 20's, joel in his late 40's) pet names, sexual fantasies, flirtation, slow burn (not so slow), Feeling of guilt, Mention and consumption of alcohol, hangover, Mention on teacher/student relationship, Swallowing medicine pills, Mention of vomiting (nothing explicit), Professor Miller's Aftercare, they are both two consenting adults, fear of being found out.

Friday.

"Good day, students. Today we're going to talk about two branches of anthropology that are very important for understanding human nature: physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology," Joel said, walking in front of the class and writing the title on the board.

It was a fact that that crush was now an obsession, you didn't know how to get Joel out of your head, you couldn't help but romanticize every single thing he did or said, you beat yourself up mentally for sexualizing him, but it was kind of impossible to stop when the clothes he wore fit him ridiculously well, it was impossible for him to look attractive with everything. The vest he wore over his white shirt was ridiculously hot, you never imagined him with a vest and now, you can't get the image out of your head.

"First of all, physiological anthropology" He paused, looking at everyone in the room

"Physiological anthropology is the branch of anthropology that studies the biological dimension of the human being. It deals with the physical and psychological characteristics that are common to all human beings, regardless of their culture or era"

You could feel your body present, but your head was somewhere else, thinking about so many things that have nothing to do with matter

"Some of the topics that physiological anthropology studies are:

|Human Anatomy

|Human Physiology

|Human Psychology

|Human Evolution"

His gaze passed over your seat, several times, but you didn't realize it because you were so gone that you didn't know what he was talking about, you only saw his lips move, the pen around his fingers as he wrote on the blackboard what you assumed were subtopics, the truth is that you don't even know.

From Joel's perspective he assumed you were paying attention, as you saw him with furrowed brows and followed his steps, but the moment he stared at you, saw how your eyes were gone, he could perceive that you were not quite present in the class.

"Physiological anthropology helps us understand how the human body works, how we think and feel, and how we have evolved as a species" He finally says, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, arms crossed as he walks back in front of the class, looking at everyone as he continues to explain.

"Now Pragmatic Anthropology is the branch of anthropology that studies the cultural dimension of the human being. It deals with human characteristics that are a product of culture, such as values, beliefs, customs, and social norms.

Some of the topics that pragmatic anthropology studies are:

|Culture

|The Society

|Education

|Religion

|The Art

Pragmatic anthropology helps us understand how human society is constructed, how values and beliefs are transmitted, and how emotions and feelings are expressed" He paused, took a breath, and asked, looking at the whole class

"Could any of you tell me what's the difference between the two?" he look at the blackboard and look at them again, some whispered some answers but with the fear of making a mistake they said nothing.

"Miss" he said your last name 1 time, you didn't listen, you just saw that his eyes were glued to you, he named you for the second time and your friend nudged you. At that moment you felt your body for the first time since he entered the room, a shiver ran down your spine, while you saw your friend.

She just made a gesture to you with her eyes open, you know she scolded you mentally. You looked back at Joel and he was arms crossed 'shit in that pose yes he looks bigger and stronger, concentrate' looking at you over his glasses, his lips were sealed and his expression was serious as he watched you, you could feel all the eyes on you waiting for your answer.

"Sorry?" You apologized by looking down and looking at him again "I didn't hear the question" You interlaced your fingers in your lap nervously as you mentally begged him not to humiliate you.

"i ask who knows the difference between the two topics we just talked about" He looked at you as he got closer so he could get a better look at you since you were in the third row, a little out of reach.

"I… I don't know," you said nervously, shaking your head softly

You saw him duck his head as a sarcastic laugh came from his lips, shaking his head, walking up the stairs, walking down the hallway that left him in front of you and looking into your eyes, you could see disappointment in them.

"Of course you don't know, you didn't pay attention to a single word that was said" he said seriously, his words hurt you, and more because everyone listened while looking at you

"if you are in my class it is to learn, I don't stand here every day so that the words go in one ear and out the other" this time he said to everyone, his voice sounding deeper as he walked away from you and down the stairs returning to the center

A silence covered the room for a few seconds when a squeaky female voice made itself present, you shrugged your shoulders as you felt your ears bleed at the sound of that voice.

"Go ahead, Miss Vince," this time Joel's voice sounded calmer and softer

"The main difference between physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology is that the first deals with human characteristics that are common to all human beings, while the second deals with human characteristics that are a product of culture"

"That's right, as clear as water" He looked at you and you just looked down at your lap where your cold hands were hiding.

"Physiological anthropology is more objective, as it is based on observation and experimentation. Pragmatic anthropology, on the other hand, is more subjective, as it is based on the interpretation of cultural phenomena" He said, going back to the blackboard and writing the key words on it.

You felt so small, you felt a lump in your throat, you felt an anger inside you, you tried to control your heavy breathing. You looked at your hands and you could see and feel the waterline in your eyes fill with tears, you didn't want to cry, not in front of them, not in front of him, you didn't want him to see the power he had over you. You took a deep breath, wiping your eyes quickly, as you looked straight ahead and made a note in your notebook.

"In conclusion, physiological anthropology and pragmatic anthropology are two fundamental branches of anthropology since they help us to understand human nature in all its complexity, both in its biological dimension and in its cultural dimension"

The rest of the class went on normally, you just didn't look at him, you just listened and looked at the blackboard to make notes of what he wrote. You were quiet for the rest of the class, even when roll call you just raised your hand, at the end he just let them read a file that he would send them.

You left the room without even looking at him and hurried out. It was 6:30 a.m., with Mr. Miller's class being the last. Even though you had an appointment with the student counselor, that's why you had to run since she was leaving early.

"Where are you going?" shouted your friend seeing you hurrying down the hallway

"I have to catch up with ava, I need to talk to her" you yelled back saying goodbye with your hand in the air and disappearing around the corner.

Being true you wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible, you couldn't stand the presence of everyone around you, let alone his presence, you really felt hurt, you knew he was right, you weren't paying attention, but it wasn't necessary for him to talk to you in that hurtful tone, it was the first time you saw him angry, And you're the reason.

Your high heels echoed off the shiny floor of the school as you walked down the stairs, walked a few doors along the hallway into one that said 'teachers' office'. Past the doors you could see a long corridor that led you into the offices, several Victorian-style windows and within the space were scattered the offices of each director of the school.

You walked to the right where the office of ava, the student counselor, a beautiful lady who had been working at the university for 10 years. You knocked a couple of times on the wooden door and from inside you heard 'come in'.

You walked in closing the door behind you and when you met her gaze you gave her a smile.

"Hello" she said your name "Good afternoon, how are you?" she said in an enthusiastic voice, whenever you saw her she looked happy, you didn't know how she could be in a good mood being locked in those 4 walls.

"hi, Well thank you, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine honey, tell me what brings you here," she said, adjusting her glasses and leaving some sheets beside her.

You sat in the chair in front of her desk and left your backpack on the floor

"Well… I wanted to talk to you about my thesis topic"

"Okay… How can I help you?"she crossed her hands in front of her at the desk.

"I thought maybe you could… Or well, I know you studied psychology, right?"

"That's right," she nodded, taking a sip of her coffee

"Well, my thesis talks about transpersonal anthropology, and I know there's a topic in psychology about that, and I wanted to know if you could give me some important points about that, or your knowledge in it," you said kindly giving her a smile

"Of course honey, it's just a long topic and I have to run home, so how about Monday you come and we talk about it."

"Sounds great"

"How about 2 p.m.?"

"Yes, I'm free at that time"

"Perfect" A knock interrupted your talk, Ava gave way and a head peeked out of the door

"I'm sorry to interrupt Ava, but Professor Miller came looking for you a while ago and asked me if you could stop by his office for a moment before you left"

"Of course, thank you for letting me know" they closed the door and you and Ava got up from their chairs "What subject does Professor Miller give you?" she said as she took her things and put them in her bag

"Mmh philosophical anthropology" you bent down taking your backpack and passing it over your shoulder

"It would be very good for you to talk to him about your thesis, He knows more than I do because he reads a lot about the different branches of anthropology."

"Amm I hadn't thought of it" you said showing a forced smile as you followed her to the door, she opened and gave you space to go after her, she locked the door and looked at you

"Come with me, we'll tell Professor Miller if he knows about it" she said as she walked past you, you stood with the word in your mouth

"Amm… No.. I don't think he have time" You couldn't help but get nervous as you walked down the hallway to his office, this being one of the last at the end of the hallway

"Of course he has time, he's gone until 8," she said as she greeted the teachers who passed by you. "I love his office, it has a beautiful view of the forest behind campus" she look at you over her shoulder before knocking twice on the wooden door that said in black letters on the glass 'Mr. Miller'

"Come in," a deep voice rang out, sounded from inside through the door.

Ava came in first greeting Joel kindly. You stayed outside, you took a deep breath before peeking out of the doorway, making Joel aware of your presence, making the smile on her face slowly disappear as you entered and closed the door behind you, staying leaning into it looking at both of them.

Your breathing quickened a little more as your eyes met, you didn't want to be there, you didn't want to see him and you guess he didn't want to see you either. You looked at Ava and smiled nervously at her, clasping your hands behind you.

"We hope we don't interrupt Professor Miller" said Ava standing in front of his desk

"Not at all Ava, Amm" he look at you and look back at her "I wanted to tell you about the student outing that will be done at the end of the month" he said playing with the pen he had in his hands

"Of course of course, we must change some details about that...amm I have the itinerary in digital, If you want, I can send it to you and talk about it on Monday."

"Of course that would be wonderful" he nodded quickly and took a deep breath seeing the two of you with a tight smile on his lips

"Oh it's true haha" she walked over to you and took you by the shoulder approaching you to the desk, making you being closer right in front of him, she said your name "wanted to ask you if you have any knowledge about transpersonal psychology, It's for her thesis on transpersonal anthropology"

God, she looks like your mom speaking for you.

"I have knowledge on both subjects," he said, looking at her and not you.

"Perfect, I told you he knew," she said smiling at you and you just smiled back "Can she stay so you can explain a little about the subject?"

Your eyes widened looking at her "I don't think Professor Miller has time for that" you said laughing nervously, shaking your head.

"Well… I'll stay a few more hours, so I have time," he said looking at you, this time his voice sounded deeper

You stared at him for a moment swallowing, felt your ears rumble.

"You see, Professor Miller is always there to attend to his students, see you on Monday Mr. Miller" Ava said goodbye as she made her way to the door, Joel said goodbye, and you only felt the air from the door blow behind you, feeling Joel's presence heavier than ever.

"Take a seat" he said, pointing with his hand to the chair in front of him

You sat down leaving your things aside, you breathed deeply. You watched the room as he got up and picked up some papers on the shelf in the corner.

His office really was big for a simple professor. There were two large windows behind his desk, the ceiling was twice as high as the rest of the school, there was a brown leather armchair at the other end of the room, a coffee table in front of it and a warm light lamp on one side of the armchair. Several bookshelves adorned the walls, some paintings and recognitions.

His desk was kept simple, a laptop, papers on one end and a few books on the other end, his glasses were kept on one side of his case while a coffee cup was kept empty on the other side of the laptop. His office was kept lit by a few warm lamps that he had around the office. The little light of the cloudy afternoon came in through the windows, which were kept open letting the cold breeze into the cozy cube.

Your teeth gnashed from the cold coming in, as the afternoon was cold at this time of year. You were dressed in jeans, your top being a white long-sleeved shirt but a little open at the chest, revealing your collarbones and your locket hanging from your neck.

Joel walked back to the desk, leaving some papers on the side of the laptop.

"Okay" sat down in front of you as he leaned back in the chair and let out a heavy exhale from his lips "Tell me you'd like to know" his lips moved as he rested his right arm on the armrest of his desk chair and rested his thumb under his jaw, index and middle finger on the hundred and the others rolled into his palm.

You couldn't breathe properly, it was hard to inhale and exhale slowly. It makes you feel strange to be in his office alone, like those old days, you were only in the same situation once, but it was for no seconds, now it was different, because it was you and only you who was with him, without people to take his attention away from you.

"Well…" You breathed as you watched as he swallowed and his Adam's apple went down and up, while his gaze stayed on you, serious. "I have an initial basis for my thesis, the introduction, which is transpersonal anthropology and psychological anthropology, but… I wanted to talk about both fields but it's a bit impossible since it's too much of both subjects"

"It's not impossible if you're talking about topics that are intertwined between the transpersonal and the psychological, you would have to investigate if any research of this type has already been done, so you can have some sustenance or support"

You were about to speak when he interrupted you

"And why don't you focus on a specific topic about transpersonal anthropology?

"Because I'm still interested in psychology, and I think it's something that can go hand in hand with the transpersonal in the social area" you said, clapping your palms in your lap, while smiling at him with sealed lips.

He smiled at you, nodding.

"Can I see your research preview? If it doesn't bother you"

"Sure," you took out your cell phone and opened the file. You held it out to him, he reached out and took it in his hands, making your phone look small in his hand.

He looked at the screen as his hand reached out to grab the glasses that were next to him and put them on, you looked at him and you could see the reflection of your cell phone in his glasses as he rested his elbows on the wood of the desk.

You watched as he wagged his finger up on the screen, you could see through his glasses as his eyes moved following the letters on the screen. You could hear his breathing, which honestly bothered you a little bit when people breathed too hard, ugh you couldn't stand that but… Being him was fine. You moved your foot impatiently and nervously, something Mr. Miller could notice.

"Do you want coffee?" he said as he looked at you through his glasses, and the fine lines on his forehead were present.

"n.. no, I'm fine," you let out a small nervous laugh. He only nodded, smiling slightly and looking back at the screen.

"Don't be nervous then" echoed in your ears along with his hoarse tone of voice, that tone you longed to hear close to your ear, that delirious.

"I'm not nervous, just impatient" you said looking at your heels while keeping your hands crossed in front of your chest.

You saw how he put his arm down and put your phone on the desk and slid it towards you. You watched your cell phone rest on the wood with the screen on, you saw the small black letters that were written on that screen, and you could see that he had read to the end of the document.

"I think it's okay," you looked up and saw that he had crossed his arms while he saw you still with his glasses on.

"Just okay?" you looked at him incredulously and frowned.

"What do you want me to say? It's only 3 leaves," he said seriously, without taking his eyes off you.

"Won't you tell me that I need to expand the introduction further? check my spelling mistakes, that I need to paraphrase the texts well"

He bit his lip and denied

"No, I think you have everything under control" You stared at him in silence "did you expect me to tell you something else?" he said raising an eyebrow

"A little yeah... you used to correct me only by the index of work" you said quietly, looking at your heels.

You heard how a little laugh sounded from his chest, you looked up and he smiled at you, you saw in his eyes such a beautiful sparkle.

"You're so cute" Your chest would explode if he told you that

"Well, if you put index inside it… It's very obvious that it's wrong, sweetheart"

Shit, did he… Did he actually call me sweetheart?

"Sorry..." you said in a whisper

"You don't have to say sorry, it's okay," he said, looking down at his arms.

"I'm sorry to expect a lot from you always"

He looked up in eye contact, and you saw his face turn into surprise and confusion at your confession.

"What do you mean?" This time he lower his arms so he can get closer to the desk and be close to you, with the wood being the only thing separating you both.

You sighed as you saw his confused expression. You should be honest with him, let him know how you feel about him as your teacher.

"Honestly…"You paused to breathe "You are my favorite teacher, from the first day you taught us I saw the passion you had, how much you like to help your students… and I.. I just want to be as good as you."

You looked at him in silence as he processed what you said

"You are very smart and you know about everything, I wish I was good at everything and that it was easy, that I could know the subject easily" you sighed heavily "I know you expect a lot from me, and I'm sorry I didn't pay attention in class today, I know you put effort into your work and I know you want us to learn as much as possible, I really shouldn't have lost focus"

He didn't need to know all that, but you were frustrated by his class, and you felt like he wasn't evaluating you properly because of your attitude. He was silent for a few more seconds, maybe you had sounded pathetic when you said all that… Was it too much to say?

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound pathetic"

"Don't apologize please" You looked at him and he was already looking at you. "It's nice that you tell me that I'm your role model, I know you're an amazing student, i can see that you're determined to get what you want, you're responsible, you have ethics, that says a lot about the person you are" he smiled at you "and the class… Don't worry, I know I'm not always going to get 100% attention, and I shouldn't have talked to you like that in front of everyone, I apologize for that." You could see the regret in his eyes

"Thank you" you nodded and gave him a half-smile, he smiled back nodding

"and just to be clear… You're also my favorite student" a mischievous smile appeared on his lips as his eyes narrowed.

You gawked at him as you watched as he stood up, grabbed his cup, and walked to the coffee maker behind him, with his back to you, a perfect view of his back.

"Really?" you couldn't help but sound happy and confused at the same time

"Yes," he said, still with his back turned

"Since when?" he was going to speak but you interrupted him "Is it because I said you're my favorite teacher?"

You heard him laugh and look at you over his shoulder. He fell silent looking at you and you just frowned, waiting for his answer eagerly.

He turned around and replied

"since the first time I saw you, last semester"

Your smile faded, your mouth dried up, you felt your hands turn cold.

Was it true? Or was he screwing you? For a moment you thought about that day… And was it impossible for you to remember everything, what he had seen in you that day? As far as you can remember, you were quiet the whole class, you only participated by telling him your name and some of your hobbies, but other than that… You don't remember saying anything interesting about the class. You wouldn't let curiosity kill you, so you bravely decided to ask him

"what did you see in me that day?" You leaned your elbow on the desk and your fist held your jaw as you stared at him.

He turned around with a blue mug in his hand walking to the desk, putting the cup in front of you. You looked at him confused.

"I didn't ask you for one"

while he went to the coffee maker taking his cup he replied

"take it, I don't accept a no"

You smiled, you looked at the coffee and saw that it was black.

"Amm I don't like black coffee"

He finished filling his cup. He walked silently to the side of the coffee maker and took a small piece of cardboard, walked with both hands full, left his cup in front of his chair and held out the cardboard, you took it and looked at the letters, 'vanilla flavored milk' it said on the front.

You smiled at him in appreciation. It was a bit odd that he had this in his office, as you always saw him drinking black coffee all over school, he didn't look like someone who drank lattes, and less vanilla flavored.

You filled your cup a little with the milk, closed it, and set it aside. While Joel was looking at the furniture full of books that sat at the other end of his desk, in front of these two pieces of furniture was a dark olive-green three-seater armchair, it was spacious.

You don't know how many times you'd admired how good he looked, it was ridiculous the space it has in your mind, the number of times you think how fine it looks.

You took the coffee, and left it on the desk when you saw Joel approaching you. Joel came back to you but this time with a book in hand, left it on the desk and sat down in his chair.

"This book could be useful for your research, and for you to learn a little more about anthropology"

You brought it closer to you' Transpersonal Anthropology. Society, Culture, Reality and Consciousness, DIEGO R. VIEGAS ́ you read on the cover of the book.

"You've given me a book before, remember?" you said, double-tapping the book.

"And?" he take from his coffee looking at you through his glasses

"Why do you give me another one?"

before answering you he taste the taste of coffee in his mouth, lick his lips and look at you.

"It's for my favorite student to learn and I don't go around scolding her in class"

You felt your cheeks burn, you looked down, but not before seeing how he smiled and crossed his arms.

Heck, he knows the effect that had on you.

You laughed, trying not to sound nervous. Was he making you nervous on purpose? Even though it was somewhat innocent the way he did it, but why call you his favorite student and give you 2 books from his bookshelf, you would never do that, your books are sacred to you, you would only recommend them and that's it, but give it to someone? You should appreciate that person so much to do such an act, even love him too much.

"You didn't answer my question," you said as you sipped from the cup, looking at him over the blue pottery

You saw how he smiled and shook his head. He scratched his beard, which was adorned by some gray hair on both sides of his jaw.

"I remember … You were at the front of the class, I thought you would be one of the ones who talked all the time, but you never participated, you just nodded to what your classmates were saying, and I thought 'what a weird girl, why being at the front when you don't participate' only heard your voice when you introduced yourself, and knowing what you liked to read… I liked you immediately, It made me tender to see you nod and take note, you are very calm, and you have a lot of knowledge, even if it is hard for you to believe it"

You didn't know that he had noticed you that way from the first day, he took the time to study you between classes, that he would be interested in you because of your taste in reading. It felt strange in any way that he would tell you that, it felt very… private, very personal. Some teachers would just say that because you were responsible and paying attention, they were satisfied with that, but not Joel, he saw something in you that you weren't sure was visible to you, it's like what you see in him.

You remembered the way he treated you, the warm, soft tone of voice in which he addressed you. The smile that appeared on his face when you approached his desk, how his eyes sought you when he asked them to participate, the attention he paid when you presented a topic in class. All the attention you felt you had at the beginning became less and less as the months went by, but whenever you sought him he was there for you. And now… You felt all the pressure on you.

"Well… I wasn't the only one who knew" you shook your head grimacing, you lowered your gaze and looked at your red nails "there were other colleagues who were more diligent"

"No one like you" you looked up shy to see a different reaction in their eyes. You swallowed and just denied it.

You had exactly one name on the tip of your tongue, a name that had been on your mind the previous semester, you were afraid to say it, to say it in front of it, but it's a perfect opportunity that you wouldn't pass up.

"Melissa" you finally said, you tried to sound as normal as possible.

You looked up and as you had imagined. His face changed, his eyes turned dark and his features hardened, he tried to disguise it with his tone when answering.

"What about her?" he leaned over the desk and intertwined his fingers on the desk.

"She was just like me… passionate about the same topics, but she did participate" you smiled nodding, pretending you liked her.

"Well," he paused and took a moment to think and blink as he looked at you, "I think… She was different from you… From what I saw in class, I don't think you should compare yourself to her"

You held his gaze when he finished speaking. You didn't know how he did it, but if you knew what really happened, you'd say he's good at lying.

"I'm not comparing myself, I'm just saying she could have been your favorite student too" You shrugged and took one last sip of the coffee in front of you.

"I don't usually go around thinking about who my next star student will be, but you'd be surprised to know that you're the first favorite student I have"

You laughed, shaking your head and covering your mouth with your palm as you laughed. On the move you caught him directing his eyes at your body, but it was in the blink of an eye.

"I must be special, I guess"

"You must be," he smiled at you, showing his teeth as he looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

Sunday.

The smell of the night after it rained was something different, the breeze whipping through the curtains of your room, the sky full of gray clouds too big to cover the sky in its entirety. The street outside your house was silent, you could only hear the heavy air squealing out your window breaking through. You were lying on your bed, while it was being kept tidy you only had an old blanket on top of you, in fact it was from one of your favorite childhood movies, high school musical.

You had two pillows behind your head for extra support. Your eyes stayed focused on the show you were watching. For you, Sundays meant resting and not talking to anyone, there was something about Sundays that felt different from the other days of the week. Normally you didn't go out, you weren't a person who liked to go out all the time, your social battery drained very quickly if there were too many people.

As you ran your hand over the locket hanging from your neck, you remembered that first week of the previous semester, the way Joel noticed that you had changed your necklace.

"What happened to the previous one?" he said, his arms crossed as he leaned his hips against your desk.

"I put it away, don't you like this one?"

"It's very nice, you must keep something very precious inside"

"I don't put anything in it yet" you laughed slightly

"Well, when you do I want to know"

It was part of you, of your personality, it was attached to you by some invisible rope that you didn't know how to detect, the feeling, the power that made that necklace so special to you. It's like with Joel, you didn't know what force brought you closer to him, you didn't know what contained that human being who made your thoughts his, maybe you maintained a closeness that no teacher/student would have, but for you it was something innocent and vague, he was just doing his job helping you with your work.

The comment your friend had made to you ran through your mind over and over again 'no teacher would express himself like that about a student, let alone tell her that she is his favorite student, I doubt that any teacher in his life has had one'. You didn't want to think that he might have a little interest in you, because if you look at it from his point of view… What the hell could he see in you? You weren't mature or attractive enough to be with him, plus it's impossible to have any kind of relationship with him.

Things after Friday had been different, despite not seeing him for 1 day, you couldn't stop thinking about his gaze, how he smiled when he looked at you, the seriousness on his face when you named melisa. You really wanted it all to be a lie, you begged it wasn't the kind of teacher who sexually harasses his students until they get what they want. If you ever had a chance to be with him, you wanted to be the only one, you wanted to be special to him.

Even if you thought you were deluded because let's face it, he is an adult man, older by almost 26 years, he has a life made, he has stability, he is a mature person full of experiences, he is single, attractive, he can have any woman with him if he wants, so why settle for a 21-year-old girl who on top off that is his student who has damn mental and commitment problems, and in need of attention all the damn time.

Hell, you were so dam hard to yourself at times but you had to keep your feet on the ground. You were damn smart that you knew that if you got into the game it was going to be easy to get out of it, you shouldn't take it so seriously, you'd let everything flow in its wake.

You know he needs a woman, but you could give him what no one has done for him, you wanted to be his weakness so badly, you wanted him to beg you to be his… and you wanted to beg him to make you his again and again.

Your thoughts tormented you when you were alone, you couldn't help but think about different things at once, for you there was no such thing as the phrase "one crisis at a time" you worried about something that didn't happen yet or you didn't know if it was going to happen, and to top it all off, you thought if there was a solution when the only damn solution is to stop thinking about it.

Your brain was talking to you too much and that's why you overthought things. You were halfway through the series when your cell phone vibrated against the wooden surface of your desk next to your bed.

It was your friend who had sent a message. You grabbed your phone and lay back down. The screen of your phone lit up your face making your eyes narrow from the flash, you smiled as you read your friend's message.

You better be dressed up, I'll pick you up in 10 minutes, I don't take no for an answer

Does being in my pajamas work for you?

Don't fuck with me, let's go to a karaoke bar, I'll give you another 5 more minutes

You sighed when you read the last message.

You didn't know what to wear, you were thinking about a dress and a jacket but the day was very cool and you would probably freeze to death when you left your house. Your best bet was jeans that fit beautifully, black heeled boots that reached below the knee, and a black backless t-shirt and denim jacket.

As your friend promised, I'll arrive at the time she agreed for you. They arrived at the karaoke bar, which you had never been to, it was a good atmosphere, a central place with a lot of people. Inside was a place with blue, purple, yellow, and pink lights illuminating the place, and some warm lights so as not to overwhelm the view so much.

They were round tables, each one separate from the other, the stage was at the back of the place, it wasn't that deep, you could see the people from the entrance perfectly.There were 2 sections as one was karaoke and the other was a bar, but they were connected by the bar where you could turn around and see everyone on the other side.

Since the place was very popular, they had to enlarge the place, and some people who didn't enjoy being among the hustle and bustle so much went to the other end. There were people of all ages around. You walked inside the place and Katy Perry's roar song was playing all over the place.

Even if you didn't know how to sing well, people had fun, no one was judging, it was all laughter and shouting encouraging people to sing and dance.

They approached a table that was relatively in the center, and other girls they knew from college from another major were at the table. When you saw them you greeted each other happily, you took off your jacket and left it on the back of the chair, sat down and chatted for a moment before others got up to sing. You and your friend decided to go to the bar for drinks for all four of you.

"This place is sick" you said, looking around the place as you waited for drinks.

"I know, how come you've never come" she tapped her fingers on the dark wood

"You know I don't usually come this way"

"I'll have to get you out, you can find someone to have fun with"

"So you get them from here?" You said laughing mockingly

"Yes, but I get them from the other section"

They both turned to the front and saw a few men between 35 and forty-something, up to 50. You could see them coming in and out of the bar, many of them were looking at karaoke.

"So you're going to that section just for that?" You looked at her and she laughed slightly

"I use the bathroom too" you both laughed.

They returned to the table with the drinks. Time passed slowly, the atmosphere was so good that the four of them got carried away and drank a little more, but since you were not used to drinking your friends held it better than you without a doubt. You laughed, sang and danced like everyone else in the room.

You were so gone that you didn't know that one of your friends had put them on the list to go up and sing.

"It's going to be our turn" the redhead said, drinking from her glass.

"What for?" you said, wiping the drink residue from your lips.

"we´re gonna sing buddy!" the blonde said screaming as she got up from her seat.

If you had been in your 5 senses you would be nervous, dying of anxiety, resisting but since you were under the influence of alcohol, you stood up dancing. You didn't think of anything, you didn't rush for a moment, you decided it was your time, you felt good, it was in the air so, why not?

They were passing by the tables when they were called.

"The next group will sing, a round of applause for these beautiful ladies" Applause and some whistles were present when they took the stage.

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

"You guys said it would be a bar, not this place," Joel said as he wrinkled his nose.

"Come on men, this place is amazing"

"and let's not forget that you can find beauties here"

Joel had gone to the same karaoke/bar with his friends, they had been to that place many times, Joel let´s say he was not a fan of karaoke.

They came in and heard applause and whistles from the people. The place was a little more crowded when he arrived, they went to the bar next to the karaoke and sat on the closest stools they could find.

"We have a good view tonight," said one of his friends who, like him, was a teacher, only he was a medical teacher.

They ordered their drinks, and before they could start talking, the melody of a song began to play.

"It's not the one they dedicated to you, doctor," he said with a laugh as Joel joined in.

"At least I had a reaction from a woman, tell me what you got?" he laughed

"Two beautiful children" he looked into his eyes

"crikey" Joel said, drinking from the bottle

You and your friends started singing, and Joel still didn't realize that two girls on stage were his students.

"I told them I wouldn't have as much time in class since I'd be doing work somewhere else" the doctor said, sipping from his beer bottle.

"Then you won't teach at the university anymore?" said Joel as he held the spout of the bottle.

"I think I have better opportunities in the other place, honestly it's overwhelming"

"overwhelming?" said the other "It's overwhelming to have kids, and a shitty job that pays the minimum monthly, plus you get the best, you can see beautiful and young girls without commitment"

The doctor and Joel looked at each other, shaking their heads, smiling.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you friend but… I don't work in that place for the girls" he said, shaking his head as he looked up at the stage,

"Joel?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't either" he rub both palms into his jeans.

"you´re both idiots, you could be with whoever you wanted" he grabbed his beer and pointed to the singing girls.

"¡Carve my name into his leather seats!" the redhead sang at the top of her lungs.

"Just an example, imagine that those girls are your students, wouldn't you notice them?"

Both men turned to the stage, the doctor made a face and turned to look at him, while Joel cocked his head, observed and recognized one, your friend who did the chorus and danced, he laughed, and of the other 3 he was amazed when he saw you, he focused his eyes thinking if it was really you or was he hallucinating.

'is that…'

"Why do you keep thinking that?" said the doctor, tapping his friend's shoulder.

"I'm just saying, it's hypothetical" he looked at Joel and laughed "I think Joel did like the idea"

They both looked at Joel and he pointed his finger at both of you

"those two are my students" the two of them turned to see who he was referring to and made a surprised face, more than anything when they saw how one of them, I mean you, had your eyes narrowed trying to read the lyrics but without losing your style.

"Slash a hole in all four tires, maybe next time, he'll think before he cheats" You sang while hugging your friend.

"Are they your students? On a Sunday night, they'll be with a good hangover"

"da bomb" said the doctor raising his bottle in the direction of you toasting

"they won't be my problem tomorrow" said Joel laughing without taking his eyes off you when he saw your funny expressions and trying to concentrate on the lyrics.

When they finished singing, the audience applauded and whistled. They came down from the stage smiling and cheering each other on.

For your part, it had been an ecstasy of emotions, you were sweating from your forehead from so much dancing. They walked to their table and they all fell tired while laughing.

"That was incredible" shouted the blonde

"it was" said your friend drinking from her glass

"Shit, I'm sorry girls but I have to go to the bathroom" you said standing up, your friend got up too

"I'll go with you"

You both walked to the bathrooms on the side of the bar, a few glances turned to you. When I came out already refreshed, they were going through the bar when you got dizzy and stopped.

"Dizziness" you laughed lightly, leaning back on a bench that was alone.

"You've had a lot to drink, let me ask you for a water" your friend said as she asked for the bottle.

"Damn, that man is so cute" you murmured, taking the bottle that your friend held out already opened.

Your friend turned to see who you were referring to and her eyes almost popped out at who it was.

"Is that your boyfriend" she elbowed you and you frowned, confused,

"boyfriend?" you wrinkled your nose looking at her.

"Mr. Miller," she turned to look at you while smiling

"Shit" you muttered while squinting to get a better look

"It certainly looks good in casual clothes" your friend mentioned, looking at it the same way.

You got up and walked over to where he was, slowly approached with your friend behind you and raised your hand greeting him from afar, he smiled nervously at you.

"Mr. Miller!" you said excitedly, smiling at him.

"Hey you" he laughed when he saw you

"what a coincidence, professor" your friend said as she looked at the other two men.

"Shouldn't you be in bed at this hour?" said Joel, wanting to sound serious but failed to see you looking him up and down.

"Oh my God, I just found my father" your friend said sarcastically and you couldn't help but laugh.

"We just wanted to get closer and say…" You took a breath and looked at him "you look great tonight, Mr. Miller" You smiled, cocking your head and blinking. "You look very lonely, do you need company?"

Joel took a big breath and exhaled while laughing

"thanks for the compliment...and I'm not alone" he looked at his friends with a closed-lip smile and they just held back their laughter.

"Well… They're not going to know how to beg for it so..." you bit your lip.

"Okay, see you at the college Mr. Miller" your friend pulled you by the arm. You left laughing on the way to the table and your friend did the same.

"You're crazy" she said as you both sat down.

"Who's crazy?" said the blonde.

"She" pointed at you with her eyes "She dared to hint to our professor"

"Is your teacher here?" The blonde narrowed her eyes

"Wow, she's drunk" said the redhead, eating from the tortilla chips

They all laughed, you told them a little about your little crush, you pointed them out from afar, he was still at the bar with his friends, while you watched him talk animatedly.

From Joel's perspective, he found the way you expressed yourself very funny, you didn't hesitate to say what you thought, he liked it, you seemed like a totally different person from the girl he is used to seeing, quiet, reserved, shy, respectful and above all introverted, with a gentle and sweet look. The girl he saw through his eyes was someone else, but he didn't dislike it, he saw in you a girl who knows how to have fun, without care, flowing with the environment, being herself and not afraid to express whatever is on the tip of her tongue.

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

Monday.

You cursed the moment you thought it would be a great idea to drink alcohol, until you were knocked unconscious in your friend's car. You'd beat yourself mentally while you were in the bathroom complaining about the migraine you had, while wiping your mouth with water.

"Shit, I can't stand it" You held your forehead with the palm of your hand as you came out of the bathroom.

You didn't want to go to the first hour, your head was exploding and you hadn't found any pills in your entire house, and on top of all that, you had an empty stomach.

You stared at the classroom door, debating whether or not to enter.

"Mmh" you stood in the hallway.

You thought about your options, and you thought it would be a good excuse to go to Ava and ask her for a migraine pill. You walked into the teachers' offices, visualized Ava's door but knocked and got no answer, and remembered that she was arriving a little later, after 8.

You saw the doors of some teachers and administrators open, but you didn't know any of them, you had no choice but to walk to the end of the hallway. You saw the door open and peeked out. He had his back to the door, as you would suppose he was pouring himself his coffee. You knocked twice on the door to get his attention. He turned around and was surprised.

"Good morning," he said hoarsely as he looked at you with a frown.

"Good morning" you said, poking out your whole body and standing at the door.

"Come in, tell me how I can help you" he put the cup down from under the coffee maker and rubbed his palms on his pants.

"Sorry for bothering so early," you winced.

God can't stand even my own voice.

"You're not a nuisance, tell me," he walked over to the coffee pot, looking at the cup.

"I wanted to know if you didn't have a migraine pill" The way you said it was so soft and silent that he turn to look at you with concern.

"Are you okay?" he walked over to a drawer of his desk and looked inside as he put on his glasses and looked at you on them.

"No, I feel like my head is exploding.

They were silent as he rummaged through the drawer. You saw how he picked up a box, opened it, and pulled a pill out of the wrapper.

"Here, it's Dexketoprofen, it'll help you better than an aspirin" You held out the palm of your hand and he placed it in it.

Without saying anything, he handed you a bottle of water.

"Thank you"

You were about to put it in your mouth when its voice interrupted you.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" he looked at you with a worried countenance.

"amm… No" you said sadly, watching as his left hand rummaged through his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and spoke.

"I'll go get you something, sit down, you must have something in your stomach before you take it."

You sat in the olive green armchair waiting for him. It wasn't long before he walked in the door, you looked at him and his hands left some crackers and an orange on the table. You gawked at things.

"I'll make you a green tea, okay" his voice sounded calmer and softer.

You saw how he went straight to the hot water that he kept in a different coffee pot and poured the water into a cup, took the sack out of the wrapper and plunged it into the water.

You were too tired and sore to say anything. A little attention doesn't hurt.

You didn't know why he was being so helpful, you weren't his responsibility after all. You saw him worried about you, maybe he felt sorry that you were so bad, you felt that you smelled sick and that disgusted you. You felt embarrassed that he saw you like that, you felt so horrible that you didn't want anyone to see you, but he was helping you, being so helpful, you didn't know how that made him twice as attractive.

You saw him come to your side with a cup in his hand. You drank, ate, and took the pill he gave you to relieve the pain in your head.

You felt powerless, you felt weak. It was anything but funny, being locked up with him in his office, smelling of perfume, soap fresh out of the shower, and the essence of coffee, while you smelled of medicine, tea, sick person and vomit for sure.

While he was looking at you with those big brown eyes of his. Her lips parted trying to find words to make you feel better. He was as presentable as ever, his hair fresh and slicked back. The shower hadn't helped you much, it just gave you the power to come to school but you couldn't stand being in it anymore… Not even having set foot in the classroom.

"You need to be careful with alcohol," you looked at him and sighed heavily, "if you can't handle it, don't drink," this time it sounded more demanding.

"Well… You're no one to tell me how much to drink" you looked at him with crooked eyebrows "it's my responsibility"

He nodded, "I know you can be responsible, you're a big girl after all, aren't you?"

You just rolled your eyes back and snorted, drinking the last of the tea. You put the cup down on the coffee table and looked at it.

"Thank you for… This," you pointed to the leftovers in front of you.

"Anything for my favorite student" You looked at him a mocking smile appeared on his face, which made you let out a small laugh mocking sarcastically.

It was a challenge to be around him, he made you feel so small at times, so vulnerable, so loved and damn needy. And sometimes stupid.

You smiled shyly at him as you said goodbye. You got up and in doing so you got dizzy. He reflexively grabbed you by the waist and by your arm, you grabbed his shoulders for support. You closed your eyes and breathed trying to get back to your posture, when you opened them you saw him in front of you, close to you.

He looked at you worriedly, you're sure he asked you if you were okay, but you were gone, it was the closest you'd ever been. He looked at your face to see if you gave any signs, while your thoughts desired something else.

You thought this was your chance, maybe this was the right moment, maybe finding yourself sick in his office was meant to be. You could have thought twice but you didn't, it was now or never.

You looked him in the eye and looked at his lips. He was looking at you confused, maybe you were about to faint and he was still holding you up without doing anything else.

You felt so close to the moment when you felt a hot liquid from the back of your throat rise, burning your windpipe, vocal cords and reaching your roof of your mouth in a matter of seconds. You felt like it was an explosion that came out of your mouth, you didn't want to open your eyes, your gaze was down. Whatever came out of your mouth, it was all over him, his clothes, shoes… You could even feel it on your face, you could feel traces of it on the edges of your lips. But you prayed he wouldn't have a trace on his face. You swallowed hard and heard his voice.

"I think… You must take the pill again."

Fucking hell. Swallow me.

Thanks to Bard's artificial intelligence for giving me insight into the topics of physiological anthropology. we love imagining Joel teaching and being damn smart. Thank you for your support, it means a lot to me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it, tell me what you thought and what you would like to see in this controversial "relationship".

[elliesgaythoughts]

fallacy

a/n: this is my first attempt at something like this so any feedback would be really appreciated.

warnings: angst, symptoms of ptsd.

an icy breeze slithered through the gap in the old farmhouse window, creeped around the bedroom and ran straight up ellies spine.

a sudden gasp from her own throat broke her from the torment of her subconscious and swooped her back into reality as her flesh drained of colour.

cold sweat treacled down her forehead as her eyes caught onto the flowing movement of her curtains as she rolled out of dinas claustrophobic grip and sighed while she stared at the blank ceiling.

her feet finally left the bed and broke the silence of the night with a creak of the floorboards. she rubbed her eyes as she stood straight, ready to beeline towards jj’s crib-her eyes grew twice the size, her heart stilling as she saw a shadow slither out of the bedroom, she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. “you’re imagining things” she lied to herself. somewhat knowingly as she tucked jj tighter into her blanket and nudged ollie closer to him.

after glancing back at dina and creaking the door closed she spun on her heels. with each step forward her heart pounded in her chest, her head spun and she struggled to breathe as her hand clamped over her heart as she inhaled rushed breaths.

the cold air filled her lungs as she followed the faint sounds of a guitar. joels guitar.

“joel?” she whisper shouted as her feet hit the creaky floorboards hurriedly as she rushed into the room.

what she saw was worse than what she could’ve imagined, her spirit crushing at how the instrument sat still underneath the moonlight, covered in dust. completely untouched “shit” she whispers.

“ellie” she felt her soul leave her body “yes?” she pleaded “yes joel?” the words coursed through her veins and sent tremors down her spine “ellie!” he shouted in pain.

tears welled in her eyes as she heard her name fade into the distance. her chest felt like it was being crushed. her body felt like a prison, her stomach aching as she smelled the light tinge of joels morning coffee through her rapid breaths.

she ran downstairs, her vision blurry as she gripped the railing “joel please” her sight only readjusting to show the endless staircase that lead towards joels deathbed.

her shrunken pupils fixated on the golden doorknob as she sprinted down the staircase “joel!” her ears ringing with his grunts and the sound of fists hitting his flesh. the smell of his cologne, leather and the blaze of campfire rippled through her senses as she burst through the door to be enveloped underneath a sky of stars and joels soft gaze “so this dina? she your girlfriend?”

her jaw fell slack as a gasp left her. hot tears streamed down her freckled face as she stepped forward and collapsed into his arms. she felt his chest rise and fall, his calm heartbeat against her rapid one as he sighed and ran his fingers through her scalp “i got you kiddo” he hummed.

she pressed her cheek to his, the scruff of his beard tickling her face as it usually done when he would hug her fears away. she felt true calm, true peace for the first time in what felt like ten lifetimes as she melted into him.

her lips curved into a gentle smile as her eyes fluttered close and her tears of terror turned into tears of joy as the corners of her mouth tugged up as she squeezed him tighter.

a sigh of relief left her chest and her breath steadied as she finally let herself calm down “joel-

dinas giggle rang through her ears as green eyes fluttered open and the morning sunlight hit eyes them. the sound of jj giggling in his crib brought her back into reality as dinas gentle fingertips brushed the auburn hair from ellies teary eyes “good morning sweetheart”

“no!” ellie screamed “no!” dinas smile faded. she knew what had happened. she watched it happen almost every night since they moved onto that farm.

ellie sobbed “no, please” she begged. “ellie, please. it was just a dream” dina reached out to cradle ellie but she shoved the brunette away “no h-he was right infront of me, he-“

her eyes met dinas sorrowful ones as her erratic behaviour subsided at the sound of jj’s cries “it was just a dream wasn’t it?” dinas chest jumped with the sob she tried to conceal as she mumbled “yes” while playing with her fingers.

ellie leaned forward and wrapped her arms around dina as both of them broke down in eachothers arms “im so sorry” ellie sniffled.

“it’s not your fault” dinas promised as she ran her fingers through ellies locks as she frowned to herself “please believe me”

ellie couldn’t help but shake her head in disapproval, an emotionless laugh leaving her “sometimes i feel like it is”

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa @radioheadfan699 @lmaoo-spiderman @quinnister @cattjull

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 36

read on ao3! (170k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

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

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

Word count: 4.5k

Joel’s POV:

Months ago. The night after killing Blake at the gas station. 

Joel’s gun was cold against his burning skin.

He gripped it tight as he watched the outside world from a gap in the boarded up window. His eyes moved back and forth, scanning the deserted street as he went through the rhythm of tempting the trigger with his finger then releasing his breath. Again, and again, and again. 

He wouldn’t look at her, Joel decided. His focus wouldn’t move from the window and the invisible threats that lay out there, waiting for bad luck to fuck them over again.

He wouldn’t think about the look in her eyes, only hours ago when he bent over Blake’s body and drove that knife into his flesh, harder and harder each time. 

Joel’s jaw clenched.

Over the past twenty years, Joel had become pretty adept at killing. He knew how to kill someone fast and he knew how to kill someone slow, drawing out the process to get information from his victim. But, he’d never enjoyed it before, not until Blake.

His finger tempted the trigger of his gun again as the memory of Blake’s knowing smile and predatory hands forced Joel’s vision to flash bright red.

He had wanted to cut off those hands. The hands that had touched Juliet’s skin and made her tremble in fear. The hands that had forced themselves on her years before, when he hadn’t been there. 

If Juliet hadn’t been standing over him, he might have taken a blade to those very hands. But he didn’t want her to be frightened of him too. Joel couldn’t bear the thought. 

He wondered if she was sleeping yet, in the bed Joel had made for her with ratty blankets and couch cushions he had found in the ruins of a store they sheltered in. Joel wondered if she saw Blake when she closed her eyes, or did she see him driving that knife into Blake’s torso again and again and again? 

Maybe she saw herself as she sliced his throat open.

Joel’s hand tightened around the handle of his gun, nearly splitting the skin on his cracked knuckles. 

He should have checked that building the second they pulled up to the gas station. He should have seen the signs. Juliet shouldn’t have had to…

Joel shook his head, attempting to stop his guilt from eating him alive. 

He had a job to do: get her to her father’s, then find Tommy. Joel rolled his shoulders as he straightened his stance and focused his gaze. 

A soft sound pulled his attention away from the window.

Joel squinted through the dark to Juliet’s figure lying on the ground. His stomach dropped just looking at her. 

Then he heard it again, a whimper trembling from her lips. 

Joel grit his teeth. His feet turned towards her, but he didn’t take a step forward. She must be dreaming, a nightmare maybe. He couldn’t help her. Joel wouldn’t be able to offer her any comfort.

Juliet started to move. Her fists began to clench and her legs started to shake, a little bit at first, and then her body was practically convulsing as her soft moans transformed into strangled screams.

Joel moved before his mind could tell him not to, before his fear and anger and guilt could hold him back. His steps were quick and hard, taking him to Juliet as another muffled yell worked its way up her throat.

Joel bent down, placed his gun on the floor and reached out to grab onto Juliet’s legs, attempting to still her thrashing kicks.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, applying more pressure to his touch. 

Juliet didn’t respond. She just kept crying out, as though he wasn’t there at all.

Joel cursed and shut his eyes for a moment, then inhaled a breath though his gritted teeth. The sight of Juliet in pain from the threat inside her own head was hurting him more than he could have imagined. He couldn’t help her. 

“You’re safe,” he tried again, raising his voice but desperately trying not to be too harsh with his tone. “You’re safe” he repeated, softer this time.

Her legs finally stilled but her eyes remained shut, and her eyebrows were pinched together in a way that told him she was still stuck inside whatever horror lay in her head.

“No, please,” she groaned, her words quiet and slurred. “Please, don’t.”

Joel’s anger returned. If he had to bet, there wasn’t a nightmare going on in her head, it was a memory. 

One hand left her leg and moved up to her head. Joel sucked in a sharp breath before he began to brush over her hair in soft, soothing motions. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone like this. 

“Shhh,” he begged in a rough whisper, again and again and again. 

Juliet’s cries began to quiet, and her shoulders relaxed.

Joel dropped his head as relief flooded through him. He kept his movements as soft as he could manage, terrified that Juliet would wake up and he’d have to confront what he was doing.

When her features released from their strained hold, Joel rocked back on his heels and removed his hand from her leg.

He struggled to move his other hand from her hair. There was blood speckled over her face and into her hairline, reminding him of what had happened that day. He wanted to wash it from her, take a cloth and trail it over her skin, taking away all the hurt and the sorrow from her flesh.

Joel’s fingers suddenly stilled. What was he doing? 

The exhaustion must have gotten to him. He shouldn’t be thinking these things, he shouldn’t be touching her. Joel wrenched his hand back to rest over his bent knee, then he pushed himself off the ground until he stood over her sleeping body, breathing heavy.

Relief shuddered through him when he confirmed that Juliet was still sleeping soundly. If she had woken and caught him touching her…

Joel’s throat tightened with the realisation that she might have been frightened of him, fearful of another man bent over her, touching her skin.

He took a step back, then another, practically staggering away from her. Joel knew he would never hurt her, not purposefully, but he still worried what she would think of him. He wanted her to be fearful of the men that still staggered around this wasteland of a country… but never him, he never wanted her to fear him.

Joel swallowed rough and bent to grab his gun from the floor. Then he turned before he could change his mind and strode towards the window, ready to take up his job of protecting her from afar, from the men who would harm her. 

He’d failed today. It wouldn’t happen again.

As Joel found his view of the street again, he forced himself not to think why he was so determined for Juliet not to see him as another bad man who wanted something from her. Or why the feeling of his rough fingers on her soft skin made his heart seize. Joel forced himself not to think about her at all. 

Yet when Joel’s thoughts drifted away from Juliet to think, instead, about routing a map to Iowa, and how he was going to find more food… his skin still sparked with the memory of her skin, and his ears listened intently for any more sounds from her sleeping form. 

………………………………..

Joel’s POV:

Present day

“Joel,” a voice murmured. 

He turned his head, blocking out the sound. Joel was back in that store, watching Juliet sleep, smoothing his hand over her hair, vowing to keep her safe.

“Joel,” the voice said again, louder, more urgently. 

He opened his eyes to the sight of a white ceiling with gold ornate details. Joel’s stomach dropped. 

His head whipped to the side so fast his ears began to ring. Ethan’s face filled his view, standing over the couch Joel lay on. 

Panic struck Joel hard and fast.

He tried to sit up, grasping at the velvet material of the couch, but his fingers couldn’t get a grip and, for some reason, his body wasn’t responding to his commands. The best he could do was rise to a half seated position. 

Ethan’s hands were outstretched, as though he had wanted to help him but had decided otherwise. His expression was pained.

“Joel, stop,” he said quickly, “I think you’ve got a concussion, you need to lie back down.” 

His words didn’t even register through Joel’s panic. There was only one thing anchoring him to the present.

“Juliet,” Joel barked through gritted teeth as he desperately tried to control his breathing and stop the room from spinning. “Where is she?” he demanded, grasping on the couch again to pull him up.

Joel had no idea how long he’d been lying there. He didn’t even know what day it was. His memories were confused and muddy. He remembered pain striking his head, and sharp punches from men he would have destroyed a few years ago, and then he remembered a head on his lap, Juliet’s fingers on his face, then her whispered promise as she left him.

Ethan looked down at him, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips thinned as though he was debating whether to answer him.

“Where is she?” Joel fumed, looking right in Ethan’s eyes.

If she was … if she was hurt because he brought her back here, because he failed her again. 

Ethan looked to the door, then back at Joel as he rubbed at his forehead.

“She’s alive,” he said, avoiding Joel’s eyes.

Whatever relief Joel felt was gone in less than a second.

“Where is she?” Joel demanded again, shouting his words at the man who knew more than he let on, who was keeping him from Juliet.

Fuck this, Joel thought when Ethan refused to turn towards him.

Despite the ringing in his ears and the spinning room, he tightened every muscle in his body and heaved himself off the couch.

Joel swayed on his feet and was hit with intense nausea but that didn’t stop him from reaching forward, grabbing Ethan’s jacket and slamming him into the nearest wall.

“Where… is… she?” he spat out between rough breaths as Ethan struggled against him. Joel didn’t even know why he was here, how he knew where they were, or how he got here - but he didn’t care. 

“Upstairs,” Ethan finally choked out, his face red and his voice angry. 

Joel released him instantly and stumbled backwards, still not stable on his feet. After a couple breaths he dragged his feet through the door into the hall, gripping the wall to brace himself.

Ethan was at his heels, calling his name, telling him to sit down, to wait.

But Joel had heard enough. He had begged her to stay, he knew it wasn’t safe. He had to get to her. 

Joel had taken the first step up the stairs when he felt Ethan’s hand on his shoulder. His head swung towards him, ready to shout whatever rage fueled words it would take for him to back off, but once his eyes met Ethan’s face, Joel’s mouth dried and no words came out. Because Ethan wasn’t looking back at him with anger or annoyance, no, he was looking at Joel with pity shining in his eyes.

Joel’s hands curled into fists and he turned to look up to the top of the stairs and then back to Ethan.

“Spit it out,” he commanded as he planted his feet firmer on the step to restrain himself from walking up the remaining stairs and finding Juliet.

Ethan let out a breath. “She’s not -” he started, then shook his head as he tried to find the words. “She’s stable for now, but the infection is bad, Joel. We don’t have enough antibiotics.”

The ringing in Joel’s ears was reaching a pitch that started to drown out everything around him. He gripped the bannister, the wood groaning under the weight of his hand.

“What - what infection?” he asked, dazed. 

They were just in the bar, talking to Danny. How had it gone so wrong?

Ethan winced and inhaled a quick breath. “From her finger. They cut off her finger.”

Joel’s first reaction was denial. Ethan must have got it wrong, there was no possible scenario where that could have happened. 

They were just in the bar, talking to Danny. 

Quickly, without warning, vertigo slammed into Joel and he felt his body tilting as his heartbeat roared in his ears. A hand gripped his arm, holding him in place as his breaths became rapid and uncontrolled. Horror trailed across his skin, reminding him of every mistake he had ever made, every time he had felt fear, every time he faced a loss…

Some part of his panicked mind knew that Ethan was talking to him, trying to calm him down but Joel refused to hear it. He refused to consider a possibility where Ethan was telling the truth. 

Juliet was upstairs. Just a few more steps and he could see for himself that she was fine, that she wasn’t hurt, that he hadn’t failed her again.

Joel pushed against Ethan’s hand and watched as he stumbled down a few steps, looking up at him with wide eyes. Joel didn’t have time to care, he turned and walked up the remaining steps, holding on to the bannister as the world continued to spin too quickly around him. 

“Juliet,” he heard himself call out. “Juliet!”

“She’s in here,” a quiet voice announced from down the hall.

Joel’s footsteps thundered on the worn, wooden floorboards. His head didn’t hurt anymore, his ears had stopped ringing, and the world suddenly tilted back on its axis. His only focus was her.

He stopped in the entryway, scared to go any further, terrified to have his worst fears confirmed. From his position at the edge of view, he could see a radiator against the window and when Joel’s eyes dipped, he saw a pair of handcuffs attached to the metal.

It was then that Joel remembered that Juliet had lived in this very house for most of her life. He was unconscious when he was brought here, so the thought hadn’t occurred to him until now.

The floorboards he walked on, and the walls he had touched were an insight into Juliet’s past. As were the handcuffs in her room. 

The image of his fists around Elijah’s throat floated across Joel’s vision as his eyes shut and his head dropped, almost like he was praying. And maybe he was, asking a god he didn’t believe in to help, begging him not to take her.

When his eyes opened, Joel stepped into the room. 

Juliet lay on the small bed in the centre of the room, the headboard met the dark wall behind it. Beside her, sat Charlotte on a wooden chair that looked close to breaking. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the blood that coated Juliet’s face. It was clear that someone had tried to wipe it off, leaving stark streaks across her skin and allowing the mess to gather in her hairline.

Joel didn’t realise he was walking again until he stood over Juliet’s body, waiting to see the rise and fall of her chest. When he had confirmed that she was breathing, Joel followed the path of horror down her arm until his sharp gaze landed on her hand and the thick bandage that wrapped around it, almost hiding the missing space between her thumb and middle finger.

Joel felt that slam of vertigo again and he had to place a hand on the wall to catch himself from stumbling backwards. His spine straightened as his eyes reluctantly left Juliet and found the gaze of Charlotte who now stood opposite him.

“What happened?” he demanded in a voice that had lost all of its strength. 

Charlotte glanced down at Juliet, then up at Joel. Her glossy eyes fractured another part of Joel’s willpower. 

“We don’t know,” Charlotte finally responded in a shaky voice. “We found her lying in the middle of the street. She had a bag with pills and disinfectant,” she paused, her eyes blinking rapidly. “She was calling your name.”

Joel felt a breath rush out of him as he ran a trembling hand across his aching jaw.

Juliet was injured but she still went out to get him supplies when he was too out of it to notice, or to stop her. Joel remembered suddenly the last time she faced an infection like this, at Bill and Frank’s when her wound was slowly killing her and she didn't say a thing, not until he found her unconscious at their table. 

She put him first, before her own health and her own safety, Juliet willingly went back out into the town that had tried to kill her… for him.

He didn’t deserve this devotion. 

“Joel, you need to sit down,” Charlotte urged him as she appeared at his side, ushering him around to the chair on the other side of the bed. Joel allowed himself to be moved, he had forgotten how to put one foot in front of another.

When his back met the chair, reality poured over him. His eyes shot to Charlotte.

“Who did this to her?” he ground out, already knowing that she was as clueless as him, but still demanding an answer anyways.

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open as she shook her head, confirming what Joel already knew.

Slowly, his gaze landed back on Juliet and his whole body flinched. That horror that he carried on his shoulders settled deep in his gut. Joel felt powerless. He couldn’t help her and he didn’t even know who was responsible for this. All he remembered was a blow to his head and the sound of Juliet’s scream.

He flinched again.

“Joel, I need to have a look at your head,” Charlotte said cautiously. Joel turned to her, his body stiff, and found Charlotte staring down at him with that same pity swimming in her light eyes. Joel said nothing. How could he focus on himself when Juliet wasn’t even awake, when he didn’t know if she was going to be okay?

Charlotte must have noticed Joel’s expression, with his red rimmed eyes and barely restrained rage, as she turned to look at the door. 

“I’ll give you a minute with her,” Charlotte announced as she glanced over at Juliet. “But as soon as I’m back, I’m takin’ a look at that head of yours. Don’t even know how you were standin’,” she muttered, and with one last weary look, Charlotte turned and walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.

Joel released a shaky breath, then he leaned forward as his hand stretched towards Juliet’s hair. There was a bruise ringing around her neck and her jaw, and blood soaking her torso in a way that reminded him of the last time they were in this house, only now he wasn’t sure if the blood was hers. 

His fingers met her matted strands and instantly began to smooth out the clumps of blood, delicately as to not wake her. 

Fear and anger shuddered through him in waves, dampening his forehead with seat and shaking the muscles in his arms. 

“What were you thinkin’?” he murmured. Joel wasn’t sure whether the question was directed at himself or Juliet.

She didn’t respond. Juliet’s chest just continued to rise and fall in a rhythm much slower than he would have liked. 

Joel’s head dropped as his hand continued to smooth her hair. His mind was like a warzone, with guilt and terror firing lethal shots. 

“I should’ve stayed away,” Joel whispered. “I never should’ve brought you back here. I thought I could protect you, I thought -” 

He forced himself to stop. Joel’s breathing was growing restless and panicked again, and he was becoming lightheaded. 

Joel inhaled a deep, slow breath, urging his heart to stop racing.

“You gotta wake up, baby. I -” Joel choked on his words. “I’ll keep my distance. I won’t ask you for anythin’” he paused and lowered his head again, his voice thick with shame and regret. “I won’t ask you to feel what I feel.”

Movement rippled under Joel’s fingers. His blurry gaze flashed to Juliet’s bloodstained face as her eyes blinked open.

Hope, like nothing he’s ever felt before, fired through his heart.

Juliet’s brown eyes found his.

“Joel,” she breathed, her voice weak and croaky.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here,” he drawled, stroking her hair faster, urging her not to fall asleep again.

“You're okay,” she wailed as tears leaked from the corner of her eyes, falling on the pillowcase.

Joel nodded fiercely, ignoring the pain that rattled around his skull at the sharp movement. 

“What happened?” he asked gently.

Juliet’s mouth opened slightly, then her head tilted to allow her to see the bandage on her left hand, then her head fell back on the pillowcase.

When her eyes met Joel’s again they were almost black.

“They dragged you away, I thought you were dead,” she began, slowly forming her words as she struggled to regulate her breaths. Joel wanted to take back his request, to tell her to stop, but he had to know.

“Then they got me too,” she continued. Joel flinched. “I woke up on a table in the medic’s office. John was there, he - he worked with Elijah when I was younger.”

Joel’s hand curled into a tight fist.

“He said the town was starving,” Juliet stopped and inhaled sharply. “He wanted to use me to feed them, Joel, and he nearly did. Luckily, it was just my finger he took before -”

“Where is he?” Joel seethed, biting out the words through clenched teeth. 

Juliet looked away, up at the ceiling as her eyes fell closed.

“He’s dead,” she whispered. “I killed him.” 

Pride and horror boiled in Joel’s blood all at once. What she was forced to do…

He’d vowed to protect her, to keep her safe and he’d failed, again, because he was too old, and too slow, and too fucking weak.

“Good,” Joel ground out as he struggled to restrain himself from walking out the door, from taking his anger out on something or someone.

Juliet was crying again, silent tears dripping onto the fabric under her head, creating a dark stain.

“I thought you were dead,” she choked out.

Joel’s head shot up.

“When I found you in the basement, you were barely breathing and I couldn’t find a pulse. I thought I’d lost you,” Juliet recalled, every word pouring out of her like she was living it all over again.

Joel didn’t know how to protect her from the memory of his pain. “I’m here,” he breathed.

Juliet tilted her head slightly, acknowledging his words and dismissing them at the same time. Her eyes were on him again, drawing him in, pinning him with her stare.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered carefully and Joel’s heart stopped. “I can’t pretend that I don’t feel the way I do.”

Joel could’ve sworn he stopped breathing. 

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly after a moment, refusing to break eye contact. 

Juliet’s lips curved upwards, only slightly, enough to make Joel lean closer, to install himself at her altar. 

“I love you, Joel,” she said in a rushed breath. “I think I have for a long time now, it - it just took me a while to realise it.” 

Joel shook his head. Denial was comfortable, it was safe. Juliet couldn’t feel that way about him, he was wrong for her, everything about him was wrong. 

Juliet’s small smile disappeared in the blink of an eye as she watched Joel’s face harden. 

“I understand if you don’t feel it too,” she choked out, “I just had to tell you.”

Joel’s heart shattered at her words. He watched her shut down, move her head to face the ceiling again as she tried to stop the tears from flowing. She thought he didn’t - 

His hand was on her cheek, pulling her watery gaze back to his.

“You think I don’t feel the same way?” Joel accused, his voice coming out harsher than he wanted it to as he struggled to fight the fear that rose in his throat. “You don’t think I love you?” he asked, calmer this time.

Juliet’s eyebrows pinched together, her eyes flashing between his, trying to read his mind.

Joel’s head dropped as he released a heavy sigh, then he reached out his other hand until he cradled her face, wiping away her tears as they rolled down the side of her face. 

“There ain’t words for how I feel ‘bout you,” he declared. “If you knew what was runnin’ through my head, you’d be fuckin’ horrified.”

He didn’t want to scare her. His words were more of a warning, a caution or an allowance, giving her time to take back her own words and not walk down this road with him. 

“You don’t scare me, Joel,” she breathed.

Joel’s whole body shuddered at her words and his eyes narrowed in on her lips. He had to forcefully stop himself from leaning forward and tasting the tears that had dropped on them, to lick them clean, to claim her as his.

“You terrify me,” he confessed, still staring at her lips.

Juliet looked at him like his hands weren’t permanently stained with blood, like he hadn't hurt her over and over again, like he wasn’t entirely wrong for her.

Juliet looked at Joel like she loved him. 

His lips met hers slowly, carefully. Juliet responded immediately, pushing against his lips just to pull him back in. Joel forgot where they were and what had happened as he attempted to prove his devotion to her. 

The kiss was raw and tear stained and utterly terrifying. Joel had never experienced anything like it.

He pulled away in a daze as the door to the room opened.

“I found more antibiotics!” 

Joel’s head swung in the direction of Matt as he strode into the room, then staggered to a stop when he saw Joel’s body half leaning over Juliet. 

He recovered quickly and turned to call behind him towards Charlotte and Ethan who were making their way down the hall. “She’s awake!”

Joel leaned back in the chair as chaos erupted around him. 

Matt handed Charlotte the pills and she got to work, ordering Ethan to lift Juliet’s water to her mouth as they asked her to swallow. Then they checked her forehead and discussed her temperature in detail.

Soon, the ringing in Joel’s ears returned, drowning out the chatter around him. He didn’t mind, though. Joel wasn’t interested in anything other than the woman lying on the bed, swallowing the pills that were going to help her. 

When Charlotte turned her attention to Joel, he didn’t fight against her care. He didn’t resist her help. Joel had to get better, he had to stay strong if he was going to get Juliet out of here, if he was going to get her home. 

And when they got home, back to Jackson in the house he would call theirs, Joel would do everything in his power to ensure that Juliet never stopped looking at him like he was worth something, like she loved him despite everything he’d done.

Maybe someday he’d actually believe it.

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

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom @joelmillersblog @socialistmary @orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @caitlynsixxx @elli3williams

[fungal-rot]

Something In The Orange

‘To you, I’m just a man. To me, you’re all I am, where the hell am I supposed to go?’

pairing: joel x reader

summary: joel has finally managed to push you away. his past continues to follow him.

warnings: ANGST (no comfort), DARK THEMES (implied SA attempt- from other people, not Joel- hint of dark!Joel), allusions to smut (just a memory, not really descriptive), joel drinks alcohol to cope, no description of reader. please let me know if i forgot anything!

w.c.: 1.5k

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

     Joel sat on the stained mattress, unmoving, with his head hung low, body hunched over, and hands loosely clasped in his lap while he stared at the bruises and cracks on his knuckles with disgust. The room filled with deep embers of the rising sun, a sight most would find comforting or romantic, but not him, not this time. No, it was just another bitter reminder of what he once had.

He wanted to leave and start walking however far his old knees would carry him. Yet, he couldn't get himself to move. Too many memories were stored in every nook and cranny of this dilapidated house, memories shared with you. Tears pricked his eyes as he lifted his head, gaze flicking around and studying every square inch of the place. Like to the cobwebs you were insistent on keeping away, regathered in the corners of the ceiling and tinted gray with dust. Or to the flowers you plucked from the overgrown yard, now sagging solemnly in a mason jar atop the dresser.

It's too quiet.

He abruptly stood from the bed, joints crackling in harmony with the squeak of the rust-covered springs. Each heavy step of his boots hitting against the hardwood floor seemed to reverberate off the walls, a telltale sign of how alone he truly was.

Joel paused as he entered the living room, but could he really call it that when there was no trace of life anymore?

It's too empty.

He swiveled on his heels and marched towards the door, nabbing the half-drank bottle of whiskey on the end table.

Joel sat on the porch steps, tilting his head back with the bottle pressed to his lips and gulping down the amber liquid, welcoming the burn in his chest with a subtle wince. It seemed that was all he was good for anymore, inflicting pain whether it was directed at others or himself. A palm pressed to his forehead, elbow propped on his thigh, he leaned against the framing of the rail, hoping that maybe the events from the days prior were all just another one of his countless nightmares. Any minute now, he'd see that beautiful face of yours appearing from behind the trees, greeting him with open arms and that warm smile you'd always wear just for him.

Something in the orange tells him you're not done.

As the empty shell of a man sat there, his attention shifted to the markings hidden under his heel. His foot scooted inward, and the corner of his mouth twitched up only for a second as he sat his whiskey down and traced a finger over the scratching of his and your initials in the wood.

He remembered that day vividly.

For three long weeks, the two of you trekked the woods without actual shelter; but off in the distance, you spotted an old house and took off in a flash with Joel following close behind as he hollered after you.

After Joel checked the perimeter, ensuring there weren't any infected or raiders, you sat down on the porch steps with a soft grunt and pulled out your pocket knife, carefully carving your initials into the cracked planks.

You hand the knife to Joel with an eager gaze; the gruff man stands there with his arms folded over his chest, eyeing you with a light-hearted, pinched expression. You motioned the handle to him again, brows waggling slightly with a lopsided, toothy grin.

His arms fell to his sides with a sag of his posture, then he snatched the knife from your hand and sat next to you, etching his initials under yours.

'It's home now,' You told him.

Was home.

A week later, you were folding clothes on the couch and humming quietly; it seemed silly, sure. Worrying about wrinkle-free laundry amidst the apocalypse, but there was a sense of normalcy behind it. And with the area being quiet for seven days straight, you found peace. Joel had felt it, too. All he knew for the last decade was surviving and not living. So now that he had a chance to live again, well, maybe it wasn't all so bad. Perhaps you were the one who helped him see that; you always were good at keeping him grounded. It's like all the weight that accumulated atop his shoulders had finally lifted. He didn't need anything else as long as you were by his side.

He sauntered up behind you, thick arms coming over your shoulders as he pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek, making your shoulders rise while you grasped one of his hands, thumb brushing over a knuckle. One thing led to another: Mouths feed off each other, share a breath, and let passion take over while you embrace each other in a horizontal dance, bodies pressed closely together with hands gripping and pulling in the guidance of transferred intimacy before falling asleep in the other's arms, legs tangled together. Morning followed, and the two of you watched the sunrise from the solace of the blankets.

Joel wants to go back to that.

Two months later, while preparing a stew for lunch and waiting for Joel to return from the woods, a hand slaps over your mouth and pulls you back. The spoon in your grasp clatters to the floor, and you flail around, elbowing the body behind you and clawing at the hand you didn't recognize. From what you gathered based on the low, rumbling laugh emanating out of their chest, it was a man. And it certainly wasn't Joel. Then, another man slinked out from the corner, eyes narrowed and raking over your figure with a malicious, open-mouthed smirk.

“We came here to see if we’d find anything good to eat,” he calmly explained as he inched closer and closer to you.

“Didn’t think we’d get a prize at the bottom of the box, too.”

Before you knew it, you were pinned to the ground, arms tight behind your back, and face pressed into the cold floor. You yelled and thrashed about, struggling against the weight leering over you. The second man looked at you with a mock look of sympathy, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout before kneeling. His finger, caked with dirt and grime, gently brushed your cheek, making you recoil in disgust.

Joel shook his head at the memory.

He had heard your bloodcurdling yell, screaming out his name, and in an instant, he dropped everything and sprinted back to the house with his gun unholstered. The door swung open, slamming against the wall with great force, causing the knob to leave a dent in the vinyl. All he saw was you, pinned and helpless, with tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and another man with his belt undone. He didn't have to think about what he’d do next.

Did he take it too far? No, not in his mind.

You had heard of the Joel who gave his brother nightmares, the man who was ruthless, cold, and unforgiving. However, you didn't think you'd see it. Your knees were hugged to your chest, lips parted with shaky breaths as you stared wide-eyed at the tall, brooding man.

The adrenaline wore off, and he dropped the knife he didn't even remember grabbing. It fell to the ground with a thud, muted by a pool of crimson on the flooring, the wood stained with a different finish. He looked at you, saw the apprehension in your eyes, and that's when he looked down at himself and noticed the blood that soaked his hands and freckled the fabric of his clothes.

“Baby,” he hushed out and moved to console you, but you backed yourself further into the low cupboards with a flinch.

You've never flinched at him.

His heart dropped deep into his stomach, and he carefully retreated, not wanting to scare you further. Joel looked away, down at the bodies that were no longer identifiable. Faces bashed in by his own bare hands; his fists clenched, and he was now painfully aware of the sharp pain in his knuckles. He moved again, just a simple shift of his feet, and you let out a startled, choked whimper. That's when it truly sank in. You were scared of him, and he couldn't lie; it fucking hurt. But hell, he couldn't blame you for it.

Sometimes, he was scared of himself, too.

Joel would never forget how you looked at him. Like he were some wild animal, no better than the infected and somehow worse than the raiders. Maybe he wasn't any better. Maybe he was worse. Joel knows he's not a good man. When the time comes, he will be sitting directly on Satan’s lap, paying for his sins.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.

So now here he sat, a week after you left, finishing the dregs of his bottle as he watched the sky's orange begin to lighten. His lip curled, and he sucked air through his teeth before glancing down at his injured hands once more, flexing his fingers. Joel rose from the porch and went back inside, grabbing his bag and tentatively slinging it over his shoulder. When he stood out in the yard, he took one last look at the sky and exhaled a heavy sigh before returning to the woods, trying to erase you from his mind.

Something in the orange tells him you're never coming home.

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

i’ve had this idea (and like three others) stewing in my head forever now (none of them are happy). in case you haven’t heard this song and would like to get your heartbroken like i did the first time i heard it, have at it! now we can cry and think about joel together <3

as always, if you enjoyed this fic and like to pass your sorrows on to someone else, give this a reblog and/or tell me your thoughts! i love feedback and haven’t wrote angst like this in a hot minute lol.

[shortbk]

I’m literally running out of angst to read. WITHOUT smut. Please I want my heart broken in the best way.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Joel Miller fluffy blurb with the prompt 'Whose blood is that?’

Maybe some hurt comfort?

Uh Duh. This is so cute. I had to use the emotions from this episode to bring out extra feels LOL

I step out into the cold air with Ellie under my arm, her quiet sobs making my heart break as we step further away from the burning building, tears flowing down both of our cheeks. I look down at my red hands with guilt consuming me but I keep repeating to myself 'you did what you had to do'.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder and I whip around, ready to fight as Ellie reaches out to punch at the mans chest who I soon realize is Joel.

He looks to me with frantic eyes as he soothes Ellie to the point of breaking, loud sobs escaping her as he cradles her head. "I've got you babygirl. It's okay." He whispers, eyes not leaving mine for one second as my bottom lip wobbles.

"Whose blood is that?" Joel asks me, all of a sudden drenched in worry as he reaches out to me, not letting Ellie out of his grasp as he takes my hand in his, squeezing it to bring me back to reality, my hazy eyes struggling to focus in on him.

"He tried to-"

"He's dead." I cut Ellie off, wiping my hands off on the tops of my thighs as Joel's eyes lower to look at the red staining my cargo pants. Without another word, he pulls me into his arms alongside Ellie, both of our sobs filling the air with the sound of crackling fire in the background.

I suck in a desperate breath and I feel a hand on the back of my head, soothing me in the best and only way Joel knows how to, knowing how much I need him close, touching me, when I'm losing myself in the darkness that consumes us.

"I've got you." He whispers, pressing a simple kiss to the top of my head and I let out a breath I was holding onto, the images of the past twenty minutes flashing through my mind, reminding me of the horror that Ellie and I endured at the hands of that vile man.

I look up at Joel, leaning into the hand that he places on my cheek, cradling me as if I were made of glass. His eyes are worried, flickering across my expression frantically to look for any sign of distress but it's all internal, swarming my mind like the plague that takes hold of the infected.

"I've got you." He repeats and I nod, feeling a tear roll down my cheek and onto his thumb that sweeps it away and I feel Ellie's eyes on us. I reach out to her, tucking her head in the crook of my neck as she lets out a shuttered breath whille Joel leads us away from the burning building behind us.

Ashes to ashes.

[pedrosheartstring]

Chasing Light in Darkness - 1/?

Angst | Jackson!Joel | I don't know how these work!

Summary: In a world ravaged by a pandemic, Poppy finds herself grappling with the fallout of her tumultuous past as she waits for news about her estranged friend, Joel, who lies unconscious after a brutal attack. Their once-close bond hangs by a thread, strained by unresolved conflicts and Joel's animosity toward her. As she waits, Poppy’s fragile connection with Tommy, Joel's brother, becomes increasingly complicated, with old wounds surfacing and feelings simmering beneath the surface.

Triggers: Violence , Trauma , Abandonment , Anxiety , mentions of potiental Death , Mental Health Struggles , Relationship Strain , Survival , Romantic Tension , Isolation , Medical Talk , Gore - if I missed any LET ME KNOW!

A/N: This story does NOT adhere to the plot of TLOU Season 2. The events in this chapter are entirely part of MY narrative. As someone in the medical field, I wanted to create something relatable. I assure you, Joel is a survivor. I want this story to be slow and steady. I made the mood board myself! Divider: @cafekitsune

Also I dedicate this to my new friend @hauntingpr4yers ! Please read The Runner Here

Word Count: 4.3K

The sharp trill of my cell phone sliced through the fog of a drunken slumber, yanking me from sleep's depths. Darkness enveloped me, oppressive as a heavy blanket, and I squinted at the glowing screen. The clinic’s name loomed large—why were they calling me at this hour? A cold knot of dread twisted in my stomach; this couldn’t be good.

“Hello?” I mumbled, my voice gravelly and thick.

“Poppy, it’s—Tommy. I need a favor, sweet girl,” he whispered, the tremor in his voice unearthing old fears.

My heart sank. “Tommy, whatever you need might have to wait. I’m still drunk, and I’m not up for… well, you know. You’ve got Maria now.”

“It’s not about that,” he replied, desperation cracking his tone. “It’s my brother, Joel… he’s not okay. He was brutally attacked. I can’t lose him.”

A rush of adrenaline coursed through me, dispelling the remnants of alcohol. “How is he?” I steadied my voice, forcing away the tremors of urgency.

“Not good. He’s a mess. Covered in blood and unconscious.” Panic laced his words, raw and unfiltered. “Please, I need you to come over—now.”

“Tommy, listen to me,” I said, my tone firm, trying to anchor both of us. “He’s not going anywhere. I’ll be there as fast as I can, but you need to call my assistant, Lily. She can get there quicker than I can and start setting things up. Gather whatever supplies you can find—bandages, antiseptic, anything. I hope we have enough, or this is going to be a nightmare.”

I paused, letting the gravity of the moment settle in. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” I asked, my voice softening. I couldn’t imagine the helplessness gnawing at him, the fear of losing his brother overwhelming everything else.

“No, Poppy. I’m fine. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up before I could say anything else.

With a rush of adrenaline, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, rubbing my eyes, but sleep and alcohol stubbornly lingered, blurring the edges of my thoughts. Every movement felt leaden, as if I were wading through molasses, but I forced myself to shuffle to the bathroom. The reflection staring back at me was a haunting mess—bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair, the unmistakable remnants of last night’s indulgence. Showing up like this in front of the Miller brothers? Not an option.

With a shaky breath, I cranked the shower to life, letting the hot water flood the room with steam and clarity. I stripped off my pajamas and stepped under the cascading heat, feeling it bite into my skin, grounding me in a reality I desperately needed to face. As the water poured over me, my thoughts spiraled back to Joel. His condition was dire, and the thought of what could happen if we failed sent a wave of anxiety crashing through me.

Without Joel, Tommy would be lost. He was already a wreck before Joel came to Jackson with Ellie. Joel was notorious for being difficult and cruel, but I’d witnessed glimpses of the man beneath the armor, moments that broke through his tough exterior. He had treated me coldly since he arrived, and I couldn’t help but wonder what Tommy had told him—about us, about me.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself as the water rushed over me, washing away the remnants of last night and the anxiety that clung like a shadow. I massaged shampoo into my black hair, its sharp scent a stark contrast to the chaos in my mind. As I rinsed, I felt the weight of the water pulling me down, anchoring me to this moment. I scrubbed my skin, desperate to cleanse not just the alcohol but the fear that threatened to engulf me.

Turning off the water, I stepped out, the sudden chill of the air hitting me like a slap. I quickly wrapped myself in a towel, its warmth a fleeting comfort against the cold reality. Rushing back to my bedroom, my eyes caught the darkened window, snowflakes drifting down outside like whispers of a world oblivious to my turmoil. I paused, but urgency pulled me back before I could linger.

I grabbed clothes from the dresser, practical and sturdy—something that wouldn’t mind being ruined at the clinic. With frantic movements, I dressed, each layer a step closer to confronting the storm ahead.

I twisted my hair into a messy bun, yanking a beanie over it, feeling the knit material dig into my scalp. My heart raced as I scanned the room for anything I might need, before I dashed into the living room. My pace quickened, driven by an urgency that felt almost manic. I gathered essentials, shoving them into a bag with jittery hands.

Sitting down in my old chair, I pulled on thick socks, the fabric soft yet sturdy. I slipped into my boots, lacing them tightly, each knot an act of defiance against the chaos. My jacket draped over the dining room chair, I grabbed it and zipped it up to my chin, sealing warmth inside, wrapping a scarf tightly around my neck, pulling the hood over my beanie.

I snatched my cabin keys, the cool metal a stark reminder of the cold world outside. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the biting air as I flung open the door. A gust of icy wind hit me, stinging my cheeks, the snow crunching beneath my boots like the snapping of twigs underfoot. The world beyond was a harsh contrast to the warmth of my home, but there was no turning back now.

The crunch of snow became a chaotic rhythm, each step a drumbeat of anxiety that steadied my frayed nerves. The cabins lining my makeshift street were dark and silent, their occupants blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within me. Only the streetlamps offered solace, their warm glow casting long shadows that seemed to dance ahead of me, beckoning me forward.

The walk to the clinic was short, the shortcuts ingrained in my memory, but cutting through the center of town felt surreal. The towering Christmas tree came into view, its twinkling lights a mockery of the festivity, a beacon of warmth in this cold, tense night.

I could feel it in the air—the weight of the moment, a sense that something monumental was about to unfold. This wasn’t just another late-night walk through a sleepy town. It was a night that would etch itself into my very bones, a night steeped in significance even before it fully unraveled.

The clinic loomed just a few doors down from the Tipsy Bison, a place that held memories of laughter and shared drinks. But tonight, those memories faded as I focused on the task ahead, the urgent call for help overriding everything else.

As I approached the clinic door, faint voices filtered through the walls, muffled but urgent, sending my heart into a chaotic rhythm. I took a deep breath, the gravity of the situation crashing down on me. I turned the knob, and the door creaked as it opened, revealing the harsh fluorescent light that flooded the small waiting room. Tommy, Maria, and Ellie huddled together, their faces drawn with worry and fatigue. I nodded at them, acknowledging their presence as the weight of the moment hung thick in the air.

I stepped inside, shutting the door against the cold night. With swift, deliberate movements, I stripped off my layers—hood, beanie, scarf, and jacket—tossing them onto the desk in a heap. The warmth of the room wrapped around me, but it did nothing to melt the tension coiling in my chest.

Without hesitation, I turned to the hallway that led to Joel’s room, each step echoing in the silence. Bracing myself, I pushed open the door and stepped inside, the chaos of emotions swirling around me as I prepared to face the storm.

Lily was in the med room, her expression a mix of concern and urgency. She cleared her throat, her voice shaking slightly. “I know you’re drunk, Poppy. This probably isn’t easy for you,” she said, her tone filled with the weight of the moment. “It’s not easy for me either, and I’m sober.”

Taking a breath, she continued, “Joel’s in really bad shape. He’s got a shotgun wound in his leg—I’m working on it, but it’s deep. He’s been beaten badly too, multiple blows to the head. Honestly, Poppy, if he pulls through this, he’ll be lucky.”

Her words crashed over me like a wave, heavy and relentless. I felt the pressure mount, a suffocating weight pressing down on my chest. Joel was teetering on the edge, and it was up to us to pull him back.

“Where is he?” I managed to choke out, my heart racing as I stepped toward the exam room. I pushed the door open and froze, my breath hitching at the sight before me.

Joel lay on the exam table, his body battered and broken, a makeshift bandage covering the gaping wound in his leg, soaked through with blood. His face was a canvas of bruises, swollen and disfigured, and my chest tightened painfully at the sight of him—strong, resilient Joel now reduced to this.

“Lily, do we have anything stronger for the pain?” I asked, my voice shaking as I knelt beside the table, my fingers trembling as they brushed over the bruises marring his forehead and temple. “We need something—he can’t be conscious for this. He can’t.”

Lily’s voice trembled as she replied, “We’ve got some morphine, but we need to be careful. His pulse is weak, and we don’t want to slow it down more than it already is.”

I nodded, my heart racing as I watched Joel's chest rise and fall, each breath a struggle. “Let’s stabilize him first. Clean him up, and then we can reassess the pain.” My voice was resolute, but inside, chaos roiled.

As we worked in tense silence, my mind spiraled. This wasn’t just an accident—this was an attack. Someone had wanted to hurt him, and that left all of us vulnerable, teetering on the edge of disaster.

Once the wounds were cleaned and bandaged, I stepped back, my heart pounding in my chest. We had done everything we could, but now it was in Joel's hands, and the uncertainty gnawed at me.

“We’ve done all we can for now,” I said, turning to Lily, my voice shaking with a mix of exhaustion and dread. “It’s up to him now.”

She nodded, her eyes reflecting the same concern that weighed heavily on me.

As I left the room, the enormity of the situation crashed over me like a tidal wave. There were still questions to answer, especially from Tommy, but those would come later. I needed a moment to breathe, to pull myself together before everything spiraled out of control.

The moment I stepped into the waiting room, the tension hung thick in the air like smoke from a fire that refused to die. Tommy was pacing, his hands fisted at his sides, while Ellie sat on a chair, her eyes wide with a mix of worry and disbelief. Maria stood near the door, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her body radiating unease.

“Poppy!” Tommy’s voice broke the suffocating silence, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. “What did you find out? Is he going to be okay?”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself against the overwhelming weight of his gaze. “He’s stable for now, but he needs to stay unconscious for the pain and to let his body start healing. We’ve done what we can, but…” My voice faltered, the truth of the situation hanging heavily in the air. “It’s up to him now.”

“Up to him?” Tommy echoed, his voice rising in disbelief. “What does that mean? You can’t just—”

“Tommy,” I interrupted, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You know how this works. He was shot, beaten, and we’re still trying to process everything. He’s fighting, but we can’t predict what’s going to happen next.”

Maria stepped forward, her brow furrowed in concern. “What if he doesn’t wake up? What if…” Her voice trailed off, the implications of her words echoing in the silence.

The thought sent a chill down my spine, a reminder of just how fragile life could be. I glanced at Tommy, whose face had drained of color. The reality of our situation pressed down on us all—one wrong move, one slip in judgment, and we could lose him forever.

Ellie stood abruptly, shaking her head as if to dispel the gravity of the moment. “We can’t think like that. Joel is a fighter. He’s always been.” Her voice was firm, but I could see the cracks beneath her bravado.

“Fighting isn’t enough when you’re up against something like this,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “We need to focus on keeping him stable. We have to be ready for anything.”

“I don’t want to lose him, Poppy,” Tommy said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “He’s all I have left.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I felt a pang of empathy for him, for the pain that ran deep in his heart.

“I get it,” I replied softly, stepping closer to him. “But we can’t let fear paralyze us. We have to fight for him, together.”

The weight of our emotions swirled around us, a cyclone of worry and determination. I took a step back, needing space to breathe, but also to gather my thoughts. We needed a plan, something to give us hope amidst the uncertainty.

“Let’s brainstorm what we can do,” I suggested, forcing a calmness into my voice. “We need to make sure Joel has everything he might need once he wakes up—comfort, care, whatever will help him heal.”

Tommy nodded, the fire in his eyes reigniting. “Right. He loves that old guitar of his. I can bring it, maybe some of his favorite snacks too.”

I could see him starting to rally, the protective instinct igniting within him. “And I can pull together some music, something he’d love,” I added. “It might help soothe him, remind him of better times.”

Ellie chimed in, her voice steadier now. “We should organize a schedule for who will stay with him. Someone needs to be here at all times. I’ll take the first shift.”

“Then I’ll follow after that,” Maria added. “We can keep rotating so he’s never alone. It might help him fight back.”

A sense of purpose started to fill the room, the frantic energy shifting from despair to action. We began to formulate a plan, each of us contributing what we could to ensure Joel wouldn’t feel abandoned, even in his unconscious state.

Hours blurred into one another as we settled into a routine. I took the first shift beside Joel’s bed, the fluorescent lights humming softly overhead. As I sat there, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor echoed in the stillness, a haunting reminder of the fragility of life. I reached out, taking his hand in mine, feeling the warmth of his skin against my cold fingers.

“Joel,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. “You need to wake up. We’re all here for you. You’re not alone.” I squeezed his hand gently, hoping my touch would somehow seep into his subconscious. “Tommy’s counting on you. We all are.”

With every passing minute, the silence wrapped around me like a heavy shroud, my mind racing with the possibilities of what could go wrong. What if he didn’t wake up? What if the damage was too severe? I couldn’t let those thoughts consume me. I took a deep breath and focused on the sound of the heart monitor, a steady reminder that he was still here, still fighting.

Hours later, Tommy arrived, his eyes weary but determined. “I brought the guitar,” he said, his voice stronger now. “And I stopped by the store for some snacks—he’ll need energy when he wakes up.”

I managed a small smile, the sight of Tommy carrying that guitar lifting a sliver of weight from my heart. “Good thinking. It’ll mean the world to him,” I replied, my voice hoarse from the long hours.

As we settled into a rhythm, the atmosphere began to change. We filled the room with soft music, the gentle strumming of the guitar weaving a tapestry of sound that wrapped around us, enveloping us in warmth. It felt like a lifeline, a thread connecting us to Joel, reminding us of who he was and what he loved.

I leaned against the wall, exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders as I glanced at Joel’s still form, the heart monitor beeping steadily beside him. The hours spent waiting had drained me, and fatigue threatened to pull me under.

“Poppy,” Tommy said, breaking the silence. He shifted closer, concern etched across his face. “Are you okay? You look wiped.”

“I’m just tired,” I admitted, rubbing my temples. “It’s been a long night, and I’m still trying to process everything.”

Tommy studied me for a moment, then chuckled softly. “You’re not thinking about the time I called you in the middle of the night, are you?”

I shot him a wary look, half-expecting the conversation to veer into uncomfortable territory. “What do you mean?”

“Come on,” he teased, a grin spreading across his face. “You thought I was calling for a booty call. It’s been a good year since then, and you still remember it?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto my lips. “Well, can you blame me? You were sounding a little too enthusiastic at 2 a.m. about ‘needing to talk.’ I thought you had something scandalous on your mind.”

Tommy laughed, the sound a refreshing balm against the tension in the air. “I’ll admit, my delivery was questionable. But you were the last person I wanted to call. I was freaking out about Joel.”

“Right, because that’s not at all suspicious,” I teased back, my weariness momentarily forgotten. “Next time, maybe use a little more context?”

“Noted,” he replied, raising an eyebrow playfully. “But seriously, I didn’t want you to think I was being weird. I just didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“I get that,” I said softly, my smile fading as I thought back to that night. “It’s always been you, Tommy. We’ve been through so much together. Even when things got chaotic, you always knew how to pull me back.”

His expression shifted, sincerity replacing the humor. “You mean a lot to me, Poppy. I don’t want to lose that, especially now with Joel in the hospital.”

“I know,” I replied, my heart fluttering at his words. “But it’s different now. We’ve both changed, and I don’t want to put any more weight on our friendship.”

“Why not?” he asked, leaning in slightly. “I mean, we’re both still here, still figuring things out. Maybe it’s okay to lean on each other a little more.”

I searched his gaze, feeling a mixture of gratitude and anxiety swirl inside me. “I just don’t want to complicate things, especially not with everything happening right now. Joel needs us both.”

“Yeah, he does,” Tommy agreed, his expression softening. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find our own footing while we support him. You know we’re a team, right?”

“Together, we are,” I nodded, but then a thought bubbled to the surface, fueled by my insecurities. “But really, Tommy… Do you love Maria? Is she better than me—or what I was? Because sometimes it feels like I’m the reason Joel hates me.”

Tommy’s smile faltered, and the air grew heavy with unspoken truths. “Poppy, that’s not—”

“It’s just… he never misses a chance to remind me of my mistakes. I don’t want to be the reason for any more tension between us,” I interrupted, feeling a swell of emotion rise within me.

“Poppy, Joel has his own demons,” Tommy said, his voice steady but tinged with concern. “He’s lashing out because he’s scared, not because he blames you. You’ve always been there for him, even when he didn’t deserve it.”

“Maybe I don’t deserve it either,” I murmured, staring at the floor. “I can’t help but think that if I had been better, maybe he wouldn’t hate me so much.”

Tommy stepped closer, his gaze firm. “You’re not what he says. You’re so much more. I know he’s struggling, but don’t let his anger convince you that you’re unworthy.”

I could feel the weight of his words sink in, but the doubt lingered. “It’s hard to shake off when I’m here, waiting for something to change. What if I’m just a reminder of everything that went wrong?”

“Then let’s show him we can make it right together,” Tommy said, his voice low but determined. “You mean too much to me to let that happen.”

And as we settled back into the rhythm of waiting, the tension between us hung like a fragile thread, one that could either connect us deeper or unravel everything we thought we understood.

As Tommy’s words hung in the air, I couldn’t shake the gnawing thoughts about Maria. What did she have that I didn’t? The way he talked about her, the way he lit up when her name slipped from his lips, made my heart ache in a way I couldn’t fully articulate. It was like I was standing in a shadow, desperately trying to find a way to step into the light, but the warmth always seemed just out of reach.

“Do you think she’s better than me?” I blurted out before I could stop myself, the question tumbling from my lips like a confession. I hadn’t meant to voice that insecurity, but the fear had been brewing beneath the surface, and now it spilled over.

Tommy looked taken aback, and I could see the gears turning in his mind. “Poppy, it’s not like that,” he began, his brow furrowed. “You’re—”

“Please don’t say I’m special or whatever,” I interrupted, my voice sharper than I intended. “I mean, I get it. You’ve moved on. Maria’s beautiful, and she’s everything I’m not. She’s smart, confident, and has this… effortless grace. I can’t help but feel like I’m the shadow of who I used to be, while she shines in all the ways I wish I could.”

“Stop,” Tommy said, stepping closer again, his eyes fierce. “You can’t compare yourself to her. You’re two completely different people. Maria has her strengths, but you’ve always been the one who fights through everything, who holds the pieces together when it feels like the world is falling apart. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“But she’s perfect for you,” I murmured, my voice breaking slightly. “It’s like she’s everything you need right now, while I’m just… here, hanging on by a thread, worrying about Joel and my own mess.”

“Poppy, this isn’t about that,” he replied, a note of urgency creeping into his voice. “You’re not a mess; you’re dealing with a lot, and that’s okay. I care about you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

But my thoughts spiraled, racing back to the things Joel had said. The biting words, the anger that felt like shrapnel embedded in my heart. “I can’t shake off the feeling that I’m the reason Joel can’t stand to look at me. Maybe if I were more like her, he wouldn’t feel the need to lash out.”

Tommy hesitated, his expression clouded with a mixture of emotions. “You know,” he began slowly, “the truth is, I thought you and Joel would be the better pair. When everything went to hell, I saw how you two connected, how you understood each other in ways I couldn’t grasp.”

His words cut deep, the truth of them hanging in the air like a dark cloud. Memories flooded back—how we had huddled together in the makeshift camps of the Fireflies, adrenaline pumping as we planned our next move against the chaos that had engulfed our world. Joel had been a force, a rock, and I had felt drawn to him, even in those early days when survival was all that mattered.

“But look where that got us,” I said, bitterness creeping into my voice. “Maybe if I had been the person you wanted me to be, things would have turned out differently. Maybe if I’d fought harder for us, I wouldn’t be standing here feeling like a ghost.”

Tommy’s eyes softened, and he shook his head. “Poppy, you’ve got to stop blaming yourself for this. Joel’s struggles are his own. You were never the reason he pushed you away. You just caught the brunt of his fear and anger. It’s easier for him to lash out at those he cares about than to face what he’s lost.”

“I still can’t help but feel like I should have done something differently,” I murmured, my heart heavy. “Maybe if I had been a better friend to him, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

Tommy stepped closer, the heat of his presence grounding me. “You were always there for him, even when he didn’t know how to appreciate it. You’ve been a constant, a lifeline in a world that’s become a nightmare.”

“And what about you?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Am I just a memory you’re trying to hold onto while you move on with someone else? Am I just a distraction from what you really want?”

“Poppy, you’re not a distraction,” he said firmly. “You’re a part of me, and that’s not going to change, no matter what happens. You mean too much to me to ever be forgotten.”

As I looked into his eyes, I felt a flicker of something—maybe it was courage, or maybe just a glimmer of hope that I could redefine my worth. The chaos around us didn’t disappear, but maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to navigate it without losing myself completely.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Fortnight✨

Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Part 2

A/N: This one shot was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “Fortnight” and is written for @morallyinept Jett’s Flora & Fauna Challenge. I had so much fun with this one and was feeling all the angst! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me make the mood board and for beta reading and for letting me talk your ear off about this one 🥰 Joel’s POV actually made me cry writing this 🥹

Summary: Moving on is hard, especially when the man you fell in love with moved in across the street from you with his new lover.

Word Count: 4.6k

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: Lots of angst, feelings, pining, heartbreak, alcohol use, allusions to smut, tears, pov in both reader and Joel’s view, no use y/n

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The orange and yellow sunrise paints the sky bright colors as you stand in your little kitchen sipping a warm cup of black coffee. The bland taste mixes with your salty mood as your eyes lock on your neighbor across the street, Tess. 

   Every morning she’s out there bright and early, watering her white lilies with a metal watering can as she hums along with the chirping robins that sit along her fence line. It makes your fingers flex into tight fists, makes your brows furrow up, makes your mouth clench into a deep frown as you watch with heartache written all over your pathetic face. Sometimes you wish she was dead, just like your aching heart is. Cold, lost, broken. But you shouldn’t be mad, shouldn’t wish her dead. She’s nice, always smiling, something you wish you would do more often. 

   You don’t hate her, not exactly. You hate that she’s Joel’s. You hate the way he comes up behind her and hugs his broad arms around her waist as he kisses her neck, her cheek, her lips. You hate the way he dances with her in the dimly lit kitchen at night as you watch them through their open window while you stand frozen in place in your own empty kitchen. You hate the way he kisses her every single morning before she drives off to work in her flashy sports car. And you hate the way they’re engaged to be married in the fall, something that should’ve belonged to you. 

   You should be with Joel, you should be dancing in the moonlight of his kitchen, you should be the one watering flowers with him hanging around your waist and littering your skin with kisses, you should be the one walking down that aisle. But you’re not, and you never will. Joel was in the past. An old lover from years ago. You had broken up so long ago, so why did you still love him? You weren’t his anymore. Joel belongs to Tess now. The girl you would never be. 

   One month. It’s been exactly a month since they moved across the street, across from you. You remember it so clearly how it felt seeing him after all those years, like you were trapped in a glass bottle with nowhere to run. He was more built now, his biceps clinging to his flannels as his tan skin glistened in the sunlight. His hair was longer now with grey threading through his curly strands, and his beard was salt-and-pepper filled. He looked so… handsome. But then you saw her slipping out of the moving van as he laughed and helped her pull a large picture frame out of the back. You were frozen in place, the glass of milk spilling out of your hand and shattering on the floor as you stared in horror at your new neighbors. You spent the next few hours soaking in the tub with a glass of whiskey, the same brand that was Joel’s favorite. You love him, you still love him, and it’s ruining your life. 

   Now you just stand in the empty kitchen every morning with glossy eyes and watch them. The way they kiss, talk tenderly, and graze each other’s hands as they say their long goodbyes. It makes you so sick, especially after just finding out your long term boyfriend cheated on you with his secretary. So now you’re going through a messy breakup, one where he keeps showing up at the house randomly trying to get you to take him back. Just another lost love that wasn’t meant to be. Maybe you weren’t meant to be with anyone, destined to be lonely. At least that’s what it feels like while you stare in horror at the happy couple who yearns for one another.

   When you finish your black coffee and rinse out the tinted mug, you watch Joel grab the back of Tess’s head and pull her in for a long, gentle kiss. You watch the way he leans into it, smiling against her lips as she laughs and tells him she’s going to be late to work. He just brushes it off and waves her off, blowing her a kiss as he watches her drive off into the early sunrise. It makes you sick to death. 

   You turn and rush up the stairs, feeling a warm teardrop slip down your cheek as you get ready for the day. You really shouldn’t dwell on their relationship, but you can’t help it, and that makes you want to die.

   Before you head out, you walk down the paved driveway to go grab the mail from your brick mailbox, already dreading the day as rain clouds fill the sticky air. When you go to pull open the mailbox door, it doesn’t budge. You pull and pull, tugging with all your might until the door finally opens. You lose your balance and all your mail goes sprawling across the street as you fall hard on your hands and knees.

   “Shit,” you mutter under your breath as you feel hot tears prick the back of your eyes. Just when you’re  pushing yourself off the ground, you see someone out of the corner of your eye swoop down and pick up the mail that litters the ground. 

   “Oh, no. You don’t have to help me, I’m…” Your breath hitches when you stand up and see Joel holding out your mail to you, his eyes lathered with concern as you see brown doe eyes stare down at you calmly. 

   “You alright?” he asks carefully as his eyebrows knit together in a tight line. 

   “I’m… I’m fine,” you stutter out as you reach to grab the packaged letters. You jump back as his calloused fingers brush against yours, feeling the electricity fire through your veins as you see him react the same way. 

   “You sure?” One thick eyebrow cocks up as he stands tall before you, his body hovering too close as you smell the scent of fresh wood and pine needles. A scent you used to smell every single night while you were in his bed, cuddled up to him in the dead of night. Now, all you smell is regret and sadness mixed together in an empty bed with no one to hold you. 

   You clench your jaw and try to be brave as you feel a wet teardrop escape over your lash line and slide down your face. “Mhm, I’m fine,” you barely get out as you look blankly at the cracked concrete and scuff your heel into the hard ground. 

   “You don’t look fine. Is everythin’… do you wanna talk?” he asks as he slowly reaches a hand out, dropping it before he touches your skin as he realizes he shouldn’t do that. That’s too much, too risky, too sacred. 

   You look up at him behind your thick eyelashes as another shimmery tear rolls down your wide eyes. “Everything is not fine, but no. I don’t want to talk. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m sorry for bothering you, you didn’t need to help me,” you sniffle out. You start to turn away from him, but then you feel a large hand clamp down on your wrist, preventing you from moving away. 

   “Hey, look at me,” he murmurs as you slowly turn and blink up at him, your eyes glazing over as you see the hurt coat his beautiful face. “Why are you cryin’, is it… that guy that keeps droppin’ by your doorstep?” he asks cautiously as you flinch at the topic. You swear you hear a hint of jealousy when he says that guy. 

   You shake your head and pull out of his grip as his fingertips imprint your skin in hot, searing heat. “No, not necessarily…” you mumble as you cross your arms over your chest, trying to get out of this uncomfortable small talk. Why couldn’t he just ask you about the weather like a normal guy would? But Joel Miller was no normal guy. No. He was… special.

   “He hurt you?” His eyes are cold, narrowed like he actually cares what happens to you. You don’t know why. He shouldn’t even pay attention to you. You’re not Tess, you're not his to care about anymore. 

   “He… cheated on me. He won’t stop calling or coming over, even though I tell him to stop. He’s adamant I listen to him. Says it was an accident and that she put the first moves on him, and just a bunch of bullshit answers.”

   He’s quiet for a moment as he assesses you, careful with his words as he starts again. “Have you tried hearin’ him out? Maybe he…”

   “I don’t want HIM!” you scream as you feel your face burn hot as your eyes start to water. Your red stained lips quiver under the grey clouds that weigh you down to the ground, and you feel like you just said something you shouldn’t have to him.

   Joel takes a hesitant step back as his brown eyes grow wide, his fingers flexing against his dark jeans as you see pain reflecting in his eyes, a mere image of yourself that’s broken, bleeding, hollow, lonely. You’re so terribly alone, and you wish he could comfort you. You really do, but he can’t. He’s not yours. Even though you so badly wish he still was. 

   Your wide-eyed gaze threatens to take you under as you feel regret slipping from your tongue. Why did you make such a big commotion? Why did you say you didn’t want him in that way? Fuck. You start to back up and laugh to yourself. “Sorry, I need to go.”

   Just before you can make it your lawn, Joel calls your name quietly. His tone makes you turn on the spot and stare at him with the way his deep bravado voice carries through the nearly spring wind. His eyes are pensive, sad, wrecked. His jaw clenches as he shoves his hands deep in his pockets. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he wants to spill years of held in thoughts as his jaw ticks back and forth. 

   “Look, I know I never got a chance to apologize about what happened.” He walks toward you, and you take a step back as you shake your head, knowing what he’s about to say. 

   “Joel, no. Stop, you…”

   “Jus’ hear me out a second. Please.” He looks at you with big, begging brown eyes, and he looks like a wounded puppy with the way he’s staring down at you all broken and hurting, mirroring exactly how you feel. You think he might be just as hurt about it as you still are. 

   “Okay,” you mumble out as you stand your ground. 

   “‘M sorry about how everythin’ went down. ‘M sorry for bein’ such an ass to you, about all the stupid fights we had, about everythin’ we ever went through. And I’m so fuckin’ sorry for runnin’ out on you that cold February night. I didn’t… I wasn’t thinkin’ and…”

   You hold out a hand and stop him right there as you shake your head. “Joel, we were young and dumb. I was the one that told you to leave. You didn’t really have to, but I never went after you, and you never came back. I thought it was over, that we were over. And clearly we were because neither of us fought to keep the other…”

   You feel tears lick the backs of your eyes as you bite your bottom lip and wipe your waterline of any tears that might be escaping. 

   “I… I would’ve. Trust me, there’s not a day… there wasn’t a day that I didn’t think about doin’ what I did differently. And maybe… maybe things would’ve been different. Ya know? Maybe we’d still be…” He rakes a hand slowly down his greying scruff and sighs as he shakes his head. “Fuck. This is… harder than I thought it was gonna be…”

   “Joel…” You place a hand slowly over his wrist and watch his brown eyes go from clear to a cloud of haze. “I know you’re marrying Tess. She told me the other day when I saw her watering her lilies. She sounded so excited, so in love,” you cringe as you drop his wrist and take a hesitant step back. 

   “Oh, she told you?” he asks sheepishly, a bit taken back in a sense. 

   “Yeah, she did.”

   “I see.”

   You both stand there staring at one another, eyes alight with sparks of sadness and regret, turmoil that bleeds all over the heated concrete as you face each other. Both standing on a battleground where no one even lifts a finger. It’s just pleading cries and vacant apologies left in the back of the mind. A hollow graveyard that once was a flowering rose garden. 

   You feel like you should go, should get in your little Toyota and drive away, but you’re so lost and you feel like the world has left you behind. There’s just one more thing that needs to be said, one more bottled up sentiment that you need to get off your chest. So you look him straight in the eyes and say it, taking your very last breath as you bleed out all over his front yard. 

   “Look, Joel. I’m so happy you’ve found someone that makes you smile, someone that you’re clearly so in love with. I see the way you look at her. You’re so happy. And I’m so… I’m so…” You choke on your last words as tears fill the brims of your eyes, and you wipe a falling tear away with the sleeve of your shirt.

   “I’m so… happy that you get to marry the love of your life. You deserve it, you deserve all the happiness in the world. And I…” 

   Joel grabs ahold of your forearms and squeezes, looking at you with deep chocolate eyes that swallow you whole as soon as you look up into those brown pits of warmth. You feel it then, the absolute wretched wave that crashes over your body as you feel his warm fingertips tattoo themselves onto your skin. You feel it, the memories washing over you as they swim freely in your head. You remember taking a trip to Florida in his new truck, remember laying in the sand while he grazed his calloused fingers down your sandy skin and told you he loved you for the first time, remember how it felt to be under his body as you writhed and moaned with every touch he stole from you, remember how deeply in love the two of you were, if only for a fortnight. It was the happiest you’ve ever been with someone, the happiest you’ve ever been. Even if it only lasted for a second. He was your favorite season, favorite breath, favorite fortnight. Your forever that you wish would’ve lasted longer. But it was over. This was over. 

   You start to break down then, pulling out of his heated grasp as his fingertips fall from your skin. It’s too much, this is too much. You shouldn’t be here. Not with him, alone. It hurts too much, like a bloody wound that’ll never mend itself back together. The tears start pouring, ruining your mascara as you feel the rain come down slowly over your crimson cheeks. 

   “I… need to go.” When you turn back toward your driveway, Joel calls your name softly, like he’s afraid to speak your name, like he’s being fragile with a dying flower. You stand there a minute before turning back around, your nails embedding marks into your scraped up palms as you clench your jaw and turn, feeling another warm splash drop against your skin. 

   He looks so sad, so conflicted as he stares at you with knit together eyebrows, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his denim jeans as you see him slide his tongue slowly over his bottom teeth. He looks likes he’s struggling as much as you, maybe holding things back just like you are. Like the way you still love him. But it’s too late. You’re too late. 

   “He didn’t deserve you, you know. You deserve someone… someone that’ll make you happy. You deserve the world. And I hope you find it. You’re, well… you’re special. And I hate to see ya cry. ‘M sorry if I was the one who did that to you. And if you ever… if you ever need… ahh fuck. Jus’… take care of yourself, will ya?”

   You watch his fingers flex in his pocket, like he wants to reach out, maybe pull you in his arms, tell you everything will be alright in the end, but it won’t, it never will. He’s getting married to Tess, not you. You need to move on, for your own good. 

   You bite your bottom lip and nod as another sniffle leaves your constricted throat. You feel another warm splash on your arm as you give him a tight smile and turn back to your empty house, a house full of bottled up pain and regret. “Thanks, Joel. B… bye,” you choke out as you walk shamefully back to your front porch, letting the door close with a bang as you slide down the back of the door and end in a muddled ball on the floor. 

   You let the tears flow, let them burn the backs of your eyes as you feel hot air blow through your mouth. You weren’t supposed to talk to him, weren’t even supposed to let him touch your skin, even if it was just your wrist, your arm, your heart. It’s not supposed to hurt this bad, losing him all over again, but here you are. A ruined mess curled up on the wooden floor. He was your fortnight, your favorite part of every day until he was gone. Just like now. A wilted rose petal that died years ago. 

   He watches you turn back toward your half wilted rose covered yard, feeling the sting of tears he holds onto as he clenches his jaw and rakes a hand slowly down his greying scruff. He hates seeing you cry, hates being the reason for it, and hates the way he wants to run across your yard and pull you into his waiting arms. He wants so badly to take away the pain, but he can’t, he shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. But nothing is quite right in his mind anymore. No. Not in the slightest.

   He still thinks about you, the way he used to tangle his fingers in your hair as you fell asleep in his lap so many times before. He thinks about the way your soft skin felt every time he grazed his calloused fingers down your arms, your thighs, your dripping center as he’d make endless love to you night after night. He remembers it all, the good and the bad. But mostly he remembers the way he told you how deeply he was in love with you that night in Florida, promising you forever as he pulled you in for a bittersweet kiss that would be the start of the end. 

   He remembers it all. The stupid fights that meant nothing, the way he was so careless with your feelings that night of the fight, the way he walked out in the pouring rain and never looked back, the way he left you brokenhearted, just like you are now as he watches you fade back into the house as you rub your tear soaked eyes. And it kills him, it kills him that a small part of him still loves you. He still loves you…

   How can a person love two people at the same time? He doesn’t know why or how, but he does. He still loves you.. and he hates it, he fucking hates it. 

   He still thinks about you, even when he’s holding Tess against his chest late at night in their bed, even when he brushes his lips against her creased forehead, even when she says quick I love you’s to him every morning before she heads off to work. He wonders what it’d be like to hear it from your lips, on your tongue. He thinks about it so fucking much that he dreams about you, night after night. And if that makes him a bad man then fuck it, he’s already a very bad man.

   He may seem happy on the outside, absolutely head over heels for Tess, which he is. But also, he isn’t because that other half of himself is devoted to you. But he’s marrying Tess, not you. So he drinks, downs the whiskey night after night as he suffers from his own stupid past mistakes. A functioning alcoholic that’s drunk off heartbreak and pining that can never be. He’s royally and thoroughly fucked beyond his wreckless decisions. 

   He watches you every day leaving your house, climbing into your small Toyota, alone, frowning, lonely. He sees how sad you look when you catch his eyes, sees the tears well in your glistening gaze. He knows you probably must be so miserable living across from him, he sees it in the way you carry your shoulders, all hunched and wilting as your beautiful eyes gloss over every single fucking time he looks at you. He knows because that’s how he feels every time he sees you through your kitchen window, staring in a blank daze as he caresses Tess’s cheek and leaves trails of kisses up her soft skin. He knows how you feel. Because believe it or not, he’s just as miserable as you are. 

   When he finally sees you stumble through the front door and shut firmly it behind you, he lets a single tear fall like rain against his cheek, releasing his pent up frustration and held back feelings like the drops of whiskey he suffocates on night after night. And like the slow rush of February, he lets his feelings flow in the wind, dwindling down the quiet street as your silent cries fade into black. You were only a fraction of a moment, a sweet speck of sunshine that lit up his life, and now it was just a memory blown away by the endless February breeze. 

   He tries everything in his power not to run across the dew covered grass and stumble up to your porch, bang his rough knuckles against your glass door till you open up and let him over the threshold. He wants so fucking badly to wrap you in his arms, tell you everything’s going to be okay, scrape his lips across your tear soaked eyes as he kisses away the tears that he caused. But he can’t. He just fucking can’t. 

   He knows you’re on the floor, knows you’re crying your eyes out because of him. He shouldn’t have even helped you with your fallen mail, shouldn’t have placed his calloused and tainted fingers on your delicate and innocent skin, because that just brought back vivid images of you and him together. Imagines that are burned inside his memory as he locks them tightly away. A part of his mind that’s completely blocked off from Tess because she doesn’t know he still loves you. But it’s too late. He can’t have both; he can only have one. 

   So when he walks down that aisle, he’ll fully devote himself to Tess. No more silhouettes of you in his imagination, at least not when she’s in the room. He still imagines the thought of you walking down that aisle, can already see how stunning you’d look in your long satin dress, envisions you throwing your arms around his neck as he says “I do” and kisses you endlessly for the rest of his godforsaken life.

   It was always you he thinks, but time was not on his side, and he couldn’t go back to the past. He’d have to choose between the two of you, and he couldn’t imagine the thought of breaking Tess’s heart. Can’t bear the thought of losing her, but then there’s you. The girl that was once the love of his life, that’s still the love of his life. But he can’t have two loves, that’s not how it works in this life. 

So he drowns in his tears, goes back inside as he pours a half glass of amber whiskey, drinks it down like it’ll be his saving grace. You were only a fortnight in his tragic life, but you were the best one. His favorite fortnight. So he’ll pine, burn through the ashes of all his mistakes. He loves you, and it’ll surely ruin his life in the end.

He chases the whiskey down as he feels it burn like hot lava down his throat, letting the alcohol drive his sins away as he stares at your empty kitchen window. You still haven’t left for the morning, haven’t driven off into the glowing sunrise even though it’s half past 8:00.

He hates that he knows your routine, knows it’s fucked that he watches you every single morning. It’s like clockwork the way he reaches for the whiskey bottle as soon as Tess leaves, while he stands in his empty kitchen watching you. He’s such a bad man, but he’s known this ever since he found out it was you that lived across the street from him. That’s when all the feelings came flooding back like a torrential downpour, and that’s why he picked up his awful drinking habit again. Now he takes a shot every single time he sees you, like that’ll help a damn thing, but it never does, it only makes the feelings worse.

After thirty minutes of silence from your window, he takes one last gulp of the toxic amber drink and slides the bottle away, feeling the taste of regret and remorse on the tip of his tongue. He knows you’re on that floor unable to get up, probably staining the hardwood from your tears. He clenches his jaw, embeds his calloused fingertips into the rustic counter and curses to himself under his breath. He needs to fix what he did, needs to put his racing thoughts to bed, so he moves like lightning towards the front door, dragging his sorrows and regrets with him as his boots scuff against the tiles of the front entryway.

He doesn’t have time to process it, doesn’t have a chance to think it through, he just moves quickly. He sprints across your yard, passing half dead rose bushes that he should’ve kept alive. Now they just look like he feels, dead and wilting, both things willing to crumble under his touch.

Now he’s standing on your front porch, the burn of alcohol edging him on as he raises his balled up fist over the silhouette of your door. He doesn’t have time to think, to act, he just has to do something, anything to get you out of his drowning mind. So he stands there burning in the flames of past mistakes and fortnights.

Before his hand can move an inch, he smells it. The morning breeze carrying a whiff of fragrant, lush lilies across his burning nostrils that cloud his foggy mind. The scent of Tess. But he also smells the fragrance of wilting red roses and dewy, clipped grass. The smell of you. Both scents swirl together as he grits his teeth and lets the pain of mixed scents numb his racing mind. He’s fucked, ruined now, but he can’t have both. He has to make a choice. It's either soft lilies or scented rose petals. And goddamn it, he wants both flowers. But he can’t pick both, he just can’t. He has to make a decision. One that’ll surely be the end of him. He loses either way he chooses.

Tagging some mutuals 🩵 @msjarvis @littlevenicebitch69 @sawymredfox @bbyanarchist @keylimebeag

@casa-boiardi @vivian-pascal @amyispxnk @laurrrra @rav3n-pascal22 @magpiepills

@604to647

[papipedroo]

Whiskey Tears (Joel Miller x Reader)

Rated: Angst | Violence | Fluff | Age Gap

Summary: You, Joel, and Ellie have been a trio from the start. You were a family, but you find your relationship with Joel withering when he starts to pull away. Now a new comer makes her way into Jackson and into Joel’s heart…

3 months living in Jackson

You were content to say the least. No run in with raiders or evil things that go bump in the night. No sleeping outside. No clickers. No hunger.

To say the least you were happy for being in an apocalyptic world.

That and your little make shift family Joel and Ellie.

Ellie was to say your everything. Your ray of sunshine and a daughter that you would fight the world to keep safe. You both took to each other when you first met her as a firefly designated to escort her along with Joel and Tess to meet the others. You don’t know what was going to happen apart from Ellie being a cute and you still don’t know what happened at the hospital that day… You were immediately being transferred, sent on the road when suddenly Joel was driving past you with Ellie in the back. You don’t know why he stopped for you that day, but the three of you have been through a lot together and you’d put up your title as a firefly to be with them.

But now he has been gone for a week since he went out for patrol. You hadn’t been sleeping well, taking every chance you could to go out and look for him. Everyone could see the restlessness in your stance and the dark circles under your eyes.

You remember crying your worries to Maria after the fifth day of no sight of him.

“He hasn’t been gone this long and I don’t know what to do. I can’t loose him Maria, he is everything to me. He is everything to Ellie. We can’t loose him. I don’t know how to keep Ellie from crumbling when I can’t even keep myself together” You sobbed into her shirt.

“You keep telling her the truth and do what you always do, love and care for her. Just know that whatever happens, Tommy and I will always be here for you both.” She gently pet your hair until you finally calmed down enough to go home.

It was clear that you and Ellie weren’t taking his disappearance very well. Until today…

“Hey!”

You didn’t even get a chance to turn around before Ellie was tackling you into the snow. You coughed the little bit of snow out of your mouth as you took in a breath of air.

“Guess what?” Ellie asking as she sat up.

“You got taller? Because that tackled just took the life out of me.” You sighed as your head fell back into the snow.

The snow felt nice against your skin after a long day of rebuilding fences.

“A woman was found during patrol. I figured they’d shoot her but they brought her here. She’s at the bar with Tommy, Maria, and Joel.” Ellie explained, “Thought you might want to know.”

“Joel?” You sat up excitedly, “He’s back? Why didn’t you start with that? Is he okay? Is he hurt? What happened to him?”

Ellie nodded, “As far as I could tell he looks completely fine.”

Your brows furrowed, “Why is he there and not with us?”

Ellie shrugged, “I don’t know. Apparently he was the one that found the lady and that’s why he was gone for a week. Saved her from raiders or something.”

“That sounds reasonable enough...” You got up, and helped Ellie stand before you were both dusting off your clothes.

You were still unsure of the whole ordeal. Usually if Joel was gone for too long he would immediately find you both to let you know he was okay… Why wouldn’t he this time? Is it because of the woman he found?

She could be young or an elderly woman… You were hoping for the latter if you were being honest with yourself. Joel doesn’t usually help anyone and that struck an anxious nerve in you.

You and him weren’t together. No he made that very clear that night you drank too much whiskey and accidentally confessed your feelings to him… And then you finally got enough courage to kiss him and he kissed you back. The two of you found comfort in each others arms for months until that fateful day when he was stabbed…

Everything changed after that. Those late nights and brief touches ended horribly of course. As he suddenly became more open and caring towards Ellie, he was cold and closed off towards you.

That continued as the months went by until the three of you finally made it to Jackson where you would stay, but you were nothing more than friends possibly family to him… If you could call yourself that.

“Come on.” Ellie grabbed your hand before you could protest and began dragging you to the bar, “I caught a glimpse of her when they rode in. Dark curly hair, dark skin and green eyes. Oh! And a small scar on her neck, I wonder what that’s from? I got a scar once. It was from a bitch back at the QZ…” She began to go off topic as you neared the bar and that’s when the four of them stepped out and oh…

You stopped walking as your lips parted, “Oh.”

You weren’t sure what to say. She was absolutely gorgeous in your mind. Your eyes drifted down to where her hand was wrapped around Joel’s arm.

“That’s weird.” Ellie whispered as she stared at the two.

“Ah! There you two are. Come meet our newcomer, Heather.” Tommy waved the two of you over.

You walked over cautiously as Ellie bounded over to the group. Tommy introduced you both to Heather who waved with her free hand.

Why was she even holding onto him in the first place? Why was he allowing it?

You weren’t exactly paying attention to anything Tommy was saying, your gaze flickering between her hand around his arm and the way he seemed so relaxed.

“I think you’ll get along.” You heard Tommy say, “How old are you again Heather?”

“I’m 46.” Heather smiled.

46…

She was closer to Joel’s age than you were and while you didn’t care about the age gap between you and Joel before… You suddenly felt insecure.

Was that why he stopped touching me? Because of my age?

“Come on Ellie, let’s go show Heather the rest of the town.” Maria said and you watched as the four of them left.

You heart dropped watching the way Heather leaned up and kissed his cheek before she left.

“She kissed you.” You could feel anger rising in your chest, “Why did she kiss you Joel?”

“She didn’t- It’s not like that. She just feels comfortable, that’s all.” Joel sighed as if what just happened was normal.

“You don’t like kissing. You made that very clear.” You snapped as you crossed your arms.

“I don’t want to get into this right now.” Joel pinched the bride of his nose, “Look. She’s going to be staying with us until she settles in.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, “What?” Your voice raised, “You’re joking. Tell me you’re fucking joking Joel. A stranger is staying with us? Are you serious right now? How do you think Ellie and I are supposed to feel about this suddenly being thrown at us? You didn’t even try to find us and tell us you’re okay. We’ve been worried sick for a week Joel! A goddamn week! And here you are parading a girl you found like you’re about to get married. Like you forgot about Ellie and I.” You said with a slight bitterness in your tone, “Glad to see you’re okay by the way—”

“Would you just shut up!” Joel yelled and it was a tone you’ve only ever heard him use on people he didn’t like, “You’re acting like a child.”

It made you flinch back as you waited for him to continue.

“She’s been through a lot and she’s staying with me. That’s final. So get yourself into check and be nice to her.” He stated gruffly before leaving.

You couldn’t believe how he was acting as if the two of you haven’t been through hell. It didn’t go past you that he said me and not us either… You were here first and here you were getting replaced by a damsel in distress. You released a short angry yell before marching off into a different direction.

You found yourself at your secret spot in the small orchard here at Jackson. The apple tree that you planted in spring was barely a foot tall as you sat beside it. Your mom used to tell you how talking to plants helped them grow and it stuck with you even after her death. So you talked to your little tree.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of us. Why did he suddenly pull away from me? We were so happy and now… Now he’s caring for another girl.” I sighed in defeat, “You don’t think he likes her do you?”

You spent the rest of the day there until the sun was about to set. Only then did you make your way home, knowing what you were going to find.

“You’re back! You wouldn’t believe the audacity of Joel.” Ellie crashed into you and wrapped you in a hug.

“What happened?”You asked as you wrapped her in my arms.

You found quickly that when Ellie was feeling overwhelmed she would wrap her arms are your waist and bury her face into your shoulder.

“For starters, that lady is staying with us. She’s already making herself at home here. Oh and Joel gave her your room.” She said and your brows furrowed.

“He what?” You asked.

Why the hell would he give up your room?

“Said something about making sure she has her own space or whatever. I still don’t see why she can’t just stay somewhere else.” Ellie grumbled before the woman in question made herself known.

“Oh! You’re back.” She spoke cherrily causing you to grimace.

“I made us all dinner. I hope you don’t mind, it’s just been a long time since I cooked a decent meal.” She continued and whether she noticed the sour expression on your face, she didn’t mention it.

“Don’t ask me what she made. I don’t know. I probably won’t like it anyways.” Ellie spoke honestly.

“Well… I suppose let’s try and give her a chance… If Joel’s putting this much effort in making her feel welcomed then…” You gulped, “She must be important.”

The two of you walked into the dining room to find the table set and Joel already seated. Heather carried in a pot, the lid covering what was hiding inside. She set it down in the center of the table and lifted the lid to reveal roasted chicken with potatoes, steamed vegetables and pesto...

“I remember Joel telling me this was his favorite, I hope you all enjoy.” She said, her voice a bit too cheerful.

“Is that pesto?” I asked with uncertainty.

“It is!” She smiled.

“I… It doesn’t happen to have pine nuts in it does it?” You asked.

“It does… Why?” Her head tilted in confusion.

“I can’t eat this. I’m sorry.” You looked at the meal, “I’m deathly allergic to pine nuts…”

“Oh… I didn’t know.” She frowned.

“Joel knew.” You barely said over your breath as you glanced over to him.

“I forgot when I told her.” Was his easy reply.

I forgot he said… He forgot about an allergy that could quite literally kill me?

I didn’t mention it when I continued, “I thought your favorite meal was the hamburgers you used to make for—”

“It’s not.” He glared.

He never glared at you before and it stopped you from continuing your sentance.

“I can make you a sandwich.” Ellie said and it warmed your heart.

“Don’t worry sweetie, I’m fine.” You smiled at her before moving to your usual seat in defeat, the one next to Joel��s right.

Only Heather sat down in your seat instead.

You felt the hairs in your arms stand up as anger slowly bubbled in you. The first day she is here and she’s already taking over everything that’s yours.

“That’s my seat.” You said firmly.

“Excuse me?” She looked up at you with wide eyes, acting as if what you said made no sense.

“I always sit there.” You explained again, hoping she would just get up and move, but you didn’t have luck on your side. She sat firmly in place and made no effort to leave.

As you went to speak again, Joel cut you off with a tired look.

“It’s just a fucking seat. Don’t be a child and choose another one.” Joel sighed motioning to the other empty chairs.

Those words left a sinking feeling in your chest the sheer embarrassment you felt had your cheeks flush. You quickly made your way to the far end of the table and took a seat.

Ellie glared at Joel and muttered, “Asshole.” Before taking her seat next to you instead of on Joel’s left.

Heather served Joel and Ellie with a smile on her face and a content Joel watching her every move. It made you want to claw your eyes out. The room was filled with clinking silverware and Heather and Joel discussing the work she will be doing here in Jackson.

Ellie picked at her food with a frown on her face. Usually she would be talking to Joel and you about her adventures of the day especially with his week long disappearance. You could tell she was beginning to feel jealous.

“How was your day sweet pea?” You asked her and immediately saw the way her eyes lit up.

“Well I found out something crazy about how to change a horseshoe.” She said excitedly and a smile broke onto your face.

“Really now? Tell me more about it.” You said and the rest of dinner was filled with Ellie’s story about horseshoes.

When the three were finished eating, Heather looked over to Ellie.

“How was dinner?” She asked and waited for an answer.

Ellie shrugged, “Eh, not as good as mom’s.” She stated as she got up and left to put her plates into the sink.

Those words lifted your spirits and brought a small smile to your face.

“I thought it was really good Heather.” Joel said and you watched as Heather leaned down to kiss his cheek for the second time today.

You got up and left, not wanting to see anything else. Instead you made your way to the kitchen where Ellie was washing her dish. You decided on swiping an apple from the fruit bowl to suffice as your dinner for the night.

Heather soon popped her head in the kitchen with the rest of the dishes. She set them by the sink before announcing to the both of you that she was heading to bed.

“You should head to bed as well El’s. You have a big day taking care of the horses by yourself tomorrow.” You said as you took nudged her away from the sink, “Dont worry, I’ll finish up here.”

“But what about you? Where will you sleep? You can stay with me if you’d like, I don’t mind.” She said and you gave her a smile.

“I think I’ll take the couch tonight. I’d like to get in some reading and I might be up a while.” You said.

“Are you sure?” Ellie asked you one more time.

“Positive. Now head up to bed sweet pea. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You gave her a warm hug before she left.

You turned your attention back to the dishes and began to wash them in silence as you thought about where any extra blankets might be.

“I’m sorry I gave up your room.” Joel’s deep voice filtered through the cold air.

“You didn’t even ask me if that was okay.” You stated without looking back, “That is my room.”

“I know.” Joel nodded, “She was panicking on where she was going to stay and I wasn’t thinking when she asked.”

At least he acknowledged what he did was stupid.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you’ve been back, but we don’t admire it Joel.” You said, referring to you and Ellie.

You finished putting away the dishes and finally faced him. Even after being a complete ass, he was still handsome.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find extra blankets for the couch.” You stated bitterly as you walked by him.

He grabbed your arm before you could leave, “You’re staying in my room tonight. I’ll stay on the couch.”

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch Joel. You’ve been missing all week. You need a comfortable bed.” You sighed and tried to pull your arm away from him, but he wouldn’t budge.

“No.” His gruff voice had chills run up your arm.

You squinted at him before an idea popped into your mind.

“Fine.” You stated shortly before tugging him behind you to his room.

“What are you doing?” He asked you, but didn’t pull away.

“We’re sharing the bed.” You stated simply as you tugged him into his room.

When it dawned on him he finally released the grip on your arm and took a step back.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He said.

“Why?” You crossed my arms, “It’s not like we haven’t slept together before, in both senses.” You huffed and motioned to the bed, “We can share a fucking bed or do you think I’m going to kiss your cheek and cuddle up to you? Is that what you and Heather did to keep warm?”

“Shut up.” He snapped, but he couldn’t seem to make eye contact with you, choosing to stare at the wall instead of your sullen face, “I don’t think we should be doing this.” He continued, his voice more gentle this time as if he was trying to calm down a rabid wolf.

“Why?” You stepped towards him, “What is so wrong with me that we can’t even share a bed anymore?” You tried not to let your voice crack.

“It’s not right. What we did. It was because we were lonely. I’m 56 years old and you’re just kid. It was wrong—” He began to say but you cut him off angrily.

“I’m 27 years old. I’m not a fucking kid and you know that.” You glared, finally able to look into his deep brown eyes, “It wasn’t wrong either. Don’t say that. Not to me.”

“I don’t want to argue about this.” He shook his head, “I’m sleeping on the couch.” He stated firmly as he turned to leave.

He was halfway out the door when you spoke up with tears in your eyes, “I love you.”

“I know.” He said before he shut the door behind him.

Leaving you alone once again to take care of your tears and Joel left to tend to his glass of whiskey.

[mushrubes]

You

Masterlist | The last of us masterlist

Requested : No!

Prompt 15 “this song reminds me of you.” + 42. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pairing : Joel Miller x (she/her) reader (No use of Y/n)

Type : fluff!

Contents : Age gap, mutual feelings, grumpy x sunshine, swearing!

Word count : 1.6k

You're loved :)

--------

"Sooo..." Ellie spoke up, walking alongside Joel as you walked ahead of the pair, just out of earshot. He raised his eyebrow, not turning to face her and waiting for whatever comment to come out. "When are you going to tell her?" she asked, a smirk on her face as she watched in amusement, seeing his face change through multiple emotions. "Tell her what?" he asked, trying to stay calm as he gathered she was most likely just messing with him - after all, it wasn't that obvious was it?

"You like her!" she huffed, rolling her eyes at the male as he shook his head vigorously, coming out with excuses. "I absolutely do not, Ellie. She's closer to your age than she is to me!" he half lied. It was true, you were younger, but Joel was so oblivious to the constant hints you had sent. Unknown to you, she had picked up almost instantly, as well as Tommy who had agreed to help her plan in getting the pair of you together. "God, you are so stupid sometimes! She doesn’t care about age!" she groaned, scratching her forehead. 

Joel bit his tongue as he looked ahead, his eyes settled on you. It was lightly snowing on your way back to Jackson, soft snowflakes falling. He watched as you looked around, taking in the scene around you. Despite the world having gone to shit, you still managed to find good in everything - perhaps that was the reason he kept you around. You saw the good in him, the side he couldn't even see himself anymore. He found comfort in you, seeking you out when he needed it the most. You listened to him and his doubts, always managing to assure him that he was doing the right thing and he was protecting you and Ellie. You told him how much you appreciated him daily. Showing him things he never thought he'd ever see again. 

You had one of his spare coats on, your's currently being fixed by Maria as it got torn on the last patrol you and Joel took. It almost drowned you, due to Joel being bigger built but it kept you way warmer than your own did, making you thankful for the fence that had ripped it. "See! You're oogling at her!" Ellie pointed out, earning a frustrated groan that was loud enough for you to hear, evident as you turned out in concern, switching between the two. "Is everything okay?" you asked softly, Ellie smirking as he glared at her. A small smile was plastered on your face as you watched the pair of them act like children. 

"It's fine sunshine, she was just telling me those stupid puns." he lied, glaring at the girl one more time before he carried on walking, now in front of you. "What did you do?" you asked, sighing as he only got into these moods when he was frustrated. She put her hands in the air, shrugging. "I'm innocent, he's just being a moody old man." she attacked, earning a snicker from you. "Don't be mean Ellie." you warned, a playful smile on your face as she grinned back, letting you pull her into a side hug. "Hurry up, unless you want to freeze out here!" Joel called, a stern look on his face. 

"Coming!"

----

You walked into the room, immediately gasping as you set your eyes on the familiar piece in front of you. "Ellie!" you called, gaining the girl's attention. She gasped as well, watching as you opened the draw underneath, seeing the multiple types of vinyl. The labels on them had been worn away, leaving the band and songs on them a surprise. "Woah!" she whispered, pulling them out. "What'd you find?" Joel asked, still focusing on the food he was cooking in front of him. It wasn't a fancy meal, but it was enough to fill you all up for tonight until you got your next load of food. "Vinyl player." you breathed out, grinning at the male who hummed. 

"How do you play it?" Ellie spoke up making you panic as you saw what she was doing, about to break it. "Hey, hey, hey, wait." you gushed, walking over and taking it out of her hands, placing it on properly as it played. "Dinner's ready." Joel announced, letting you take Ellie's arm and bringing her to the table to sit with you and him, leaving the music playing

----

"Come on, time for bed." you ushered, squeezing her arm. Unlike most nights, you knew you'd have no issue with persuading her tonight due to how tired she was from today - she was already practically asleep on your shoulder anyway. "I'll carry her up." Joel assured, already picking her up as you went to move, sending him a small smile. "Okay." you said softly, getting up and walking to the vinyl player to change the record. 

He carefully carried Ellie up, making sure to avoid any creaks in the stairs he knew were there and pushed her bedroom door open with his foot. She had managed to make it her own since you and Joel had agreed on moving to Jackson permanently. The cracked walls were repainted with a blush red she had asked for, lights strung around as well as a pinboard, polaroid pictures pinned to it thanks to the camera Joel had managed to find on a patrol with Tommy one day. 

"Joel?" she called softly as he pulled the covers over her, Ellie already having gotten changed into her pyjamas earlier. "Hm?" he responded, letting her know he had heard you. "Thank you." she stated, knowing she didn't have to expand and he would understand. He took a deep breath, kneeling beside her as he brushed the hair off of her face, illuminated by the lamp next to her bed. "It's okay." he mumbled, a weird feeling of nostalgia growing in his stomach as it reminded him of Sarah. He got up, reaching to turn the lamp off as they shared a smile. As he walked over to the door, ready to walk out she spoke up again. "I'm no longer cargo, right?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly causing him to feel guilty. 

Ellie was similar to Joel in many ways - the one way you were able to point out was overthinking. It was a natural thing to do, all humans do it even you, but she rarely spoke up about it. She would decide to keep quiet than confront it and bottle it up. This was one of the very rare moments she'd let it show, especially since she was now slightly older. She was determined to be independent, to show she didn't need any help with anything, just to prove herself. "No, kiddo. You haven't been for ages. We see you as family." he comforted, trying his best to word it. 

We. The word rang in her head, making her grin as she realised that not only was she sure Joel saw her as family but so did you. You saw her as part of your family. Her stomach filled with butterflies as well as a fuzzy feeling, getting rid of her doubts and certain she was where she belonged. "Now get some sleep, Kiddo." Joel told as she nodded before realising he couldn't see. "Goodnight Joel." she bid, snuggling up to the plush you had given her ages ago. "Goodnight baby girl." he smiled, pulling the door gently. 

Carefully, he made his way down the stairs, coming back into the living room where you were still sitting. When you saw him, you gestured for him to sit next to you, his arm instinctively wrapping around you as you laid your head on his shoulder. The gentle, familiar tune filled the room as you smiled. "Dance with me." you questioned, looking up and feeling your cheeks heat up as you saw him already looking at you. His face changed; uncertainty obvious as he doubted the idea. "I don't know..." he sighed, looking at you as you stood up, frowning at him. He didn't say anything else, instead standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist as your arms were around his neck. 

Your head was pressed against his chest as his head rested on top of yours, swaying you softly along to the song. "This song reminds me of you." you admitted, catching the man off guard. He thought to himself for a few minutes before responding. "How?" he asked, curious as to what to respond. You scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing ever. "Because I know you'd give up everything just to be me and El." you spoke up, answering as if it was easy. The comment put a smile on his face, making him happy that you were somewhat aware of the extent he'd go for you two - his girls (admittedly he'd go further than you probably think, but he wasn't going to tell you that).

His eyes welled up slightly as he thought how lucky he had gotten. It was a living hell, yet he'd found two people who didn't see him like the others. They didn't see the ruthless, cold-hearted killer that he'd lost his brother over for a bit. He was safe with you two like you were with him. Even though he was the protector, you two helped him feel safe from everything. Able to forget about the current state of the world when he was with you two, giving him a place to rest - like a sanctuary. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he admitted, seeing you had pulled away and wiped the tears he hadn't even noticed were falling. You rubbed his tears away with your thumbs, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Well, thankfully you'll never have to know. "

[probssomethingorother]

🚨NEW CHAPTER! 🚨

Back & Forth: a the last of us fic

post-episode 8 Silver Lake hurt/comfort

Ellie & Joel, both riding the struggle bus, canon compliant

Rating: Mature for dark themes, nothing more than the show

It was Joel who stumbled first.He had felt the strength seeping out of him with every step so viscerally it was like his body was a container with a slow leak. His gate would falter and his hand would slip further down her shoulder, power waning. He would cough in his throat and blink forcefully trying to reignite the spark of energy that had carried him to Ellie just hours ago, but it was all a losing battle. And eventually, he lost it.It was Ellie who moved first after that.

chp 1 | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4 | chp 5 | chp 6 | chp 7 | chp 8 | chp 9| chp 10

CHAPTER 11!!!

read on Ao3 with the link above or below the cut ⤵️

❤️ remember comment where you can! ❤️

Her eyes were stuck on the back of the door. 

It was a nauseating shade of yellow with flakes of ancient paint curling away, exposing fissured grey wood beneath. It was bleak and bland, yet Ellie found her eyes glued to it, silently urging it to swing open again. She harbored a flickering hope that Joel would reconsider, that he would come back, that he wouldn't venture out there alone—or at least, not without her. 

Seconds stretched into agonizing minutes, but the door remained still. 

Ellie was alone.

Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling silently in the chilly bathroom, the icy tiles biting at her bare feet and goosebumps blossoming on her exposed legs. 

The glance had been quick as Joel had dragged her down the hall, but she had seen enough: flames greedily nibbling at the couch's base, devouring dust and aged fabric, scorching it with too much ease, spreading upwards and onwards. And now she could smell it. 

One time, a records room at FEDRA went up in flames and she had to help bring water buckets to it. For some reason, it smelt just like that, almost to a T. It was smoky, yet also had a musty sort of aroma with faint hints of wet logs and old paper.

Ellie's fingers nervously palmed her switchblade, flicking it open and closed in a rhythmic pattern. Her mouth was going dry and her throat was beginning to feel tight as she envisioned the progress of it all, flames now hungry and angry, consuming everything in its path. 

She hoped not everything - not Joel. 

Joel - who was now braving the flames that were spreading across the living space, licking up the walls, cascading across the floor. 

His eyes darted around, trying to suddenly make sense of the situation, which wasn’t really all that hard of course: their shelter was on fire. 

Actually no - it wasn’t just on fire - someone had lit it on fire. Someone was lighting it on fire.

A targeted attack to flush them out, or hell, just burn them alive. 

With a lung-searing breath, Joel hastily gathered their rifles and their packs, sidestepping hot fiery pools of flames. His head was on a swivel as he tried to see what else had been left in the room, what could be saved - they had so little now, they couldn’t afford to lose any of it.

The blaze spread rapidly, growing as it joined their once small corner fire. Running along the perimeter, flames enveloped the thin curtains, transforming them into fiery veils. Smoke filled the room, stinging Joel's eyes and clogging his lungs, the heat pricking his skin like countless tiny pins

Squinting, Joel zeroed in on Ellie’s jeans and boots by the couch. When he took a step forward to retrieve them, his foot struck an object, sending it rolling. With time he didn’t have, he paused for a moment, eyes following as it traveled across the floor, coming to a halt against the baseboard of the wall a few feet away.  

A wine bottle, stuffed with cloth, somehow unbroken. 

Fucking molotovs. 

He knew that’s what they had been throwing, but seeing the evidence of it made anger in his heart smolder just as hot as the flames in the room, and it pounded with equal parts rage and urgency as he tore his eyes away and clenched his jaw. 

With a pained groan, he hastily reached down to grab Ellie’s stuff, their packs, and his rifle almost slipping off his back in the process. The moment he was straight again, he heard it - another crash, this time followed by a distant holler - words indistinguishable. 

They were coming for them. 

If fear hadn't already tightened its grip on his chest, it did now - viscerally enough that it was painful. 

He stayed eerily still for a moment, waiting for another crash, another yell, but the only sounds to fill his ears were the pops and snaps of the growing fire. 

Carefully, he crossed the living room to an unbroken window and brought his face to the glass, nose hitting the now warm pane. The sun was making its way up the horizon, bathing the outside in a warm glow that eerily matched the color of the burning living room. He could see the light of the flames refracting off, creating dancing shadows across the white snow. 

It would have been almost pretty if it wasn’t a sign of something so deadly.

He scoured the treeline, searching for whoever was out there. 

He knew it had to be the people from the resort, but couldn’t wager a guess about how many. By the rate at which the Molotovs had been thrown - at least two. But, there could be so many more - a fucking resort’s worth. 

Taking down a couple had been a strain - more? - jesus fuck. 

Joel held his breath as he stared and waited as long as he could, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was lurking out there. Sweat mingled with soot on his brow, the intense heat making his skin tingle uncomfortably, each breath becoming harder against the smokey air as his eyes moved around, scanning relentlessly. 

His heart was torn between the instinct to flee and the possibility of bringing Ellie out into danger - out into a potential ambush.  They could run, but neither were in much condition to make it far. Not in the cold. Not with injuries like there’s. Not trailed by people who knew the terrain far better than they did.  

He couldn’t even make it away last time without passing out. 

A fucking failure. 

No part of him could say for certain that wouldn't happen again.  Ellie would be forced to go at it alone - stare down a mob of men by herself - which he also couldn’t say for certain didn’t already happen once.  

“Okay look at me. There are men coming, okay?” Her voice drifted through his head almost hazily while his brain supplied a vision of her mouthing the words. He hadn’t been able to draw his eyes up to her at the time, exhaustion and delirium sticking his gaze to her lips instead. 

“ I’m going to lead them away from you.”

Another crash jolted him back to reality. 

Another bottle. Another burst of flames, this time through the kitchen window. 

He was running out of time. 

He couldn’t afford to linger and worry about what could happen next - not when it would mean their death. 

Joel quickly turned away from the window, his eyes casting a final lingering look back as he made his way out of the room. 

Just before exiting, he made a split-second decision and turned, ducking into the kitchen, and plucking the quilt from the ground. It was dangerously close to a pool of fiery alcohol creeping towards it, which had him leaning awkwardly and covering his eyes to avoid the sting of the heat. His teeth were clenched so hard that his side stung with the movement, almost to the point he thought his molars might crack.

The second the fabric was in his fingers, he was on the move again. As he turned to head down the hallway, he bunched up the blanket into a bearhug hold against his chest, holding it firmly alongside Ellie’s boots and pants.

His gait was uneven but hurried as he made his way back -  a plume of smoke eagerly trailed behind him like a competitor in some twisted race. A race he felt like he was losing. 

Knew he was losing. 

Without giving Ellie any warning, Joel burst back into the bathroom, the door urgently swinging open enough to hit the counter behind with a thwack.

Startled, Ellie’s instincts took over, and her hand shot out, gripping her switchblade tightly as she braced for the intruder, nostrils flared, stance hard. Her heart raced in her chest until she recognized Joel's disheveled appearance just a moment later. As relief washed over her, the tension in her shoulders eased, and she lowered the blade, allowing him to enter the bathroom completely. Joel released a long breath as he closed the door with his foot, a wisp of smoke slipping in behind him and skimming along the floor before it sealed shut. 

The moment it was closed, Joel dropped their belongings to the ground, shrugged off their packs and the rifle, and ripped off his coat. He wiggled it down his arms with haste and threw it to the floor, the weighty fabric landing on the cold tile with a modest thump. Ellie watched, wide-eyed and tense as he used his foot to shove it up against the doorframe, pressing the fabric firmly against the gap, sealing out the smoke that was sliding under. 

“It’s bad?” 

He turned around and nodded hard, not trying to sugar-coat the truth in the slightest. 

“Can’t stay,” he grunted, his voice low and resolute, locking on to her and looking her straight up and down. 

Every time he sees her now, his stomach continually drops like it somehow doesn’t have a bottom. His brain kept forgetting how he found her - expecting her to look like normal old Ellie - rosy, cheery, personality bigger than her body, not battered and broken.

She was still pantless, her sweatshirt riding up to her hips, no longer covering her thighs as before. Her wet hair hung in odd clumps, dripping down onto her shoulders. It left two massive wet spots on both sides of her collarbone, making the tan fabric turn dark. Her sweatshirt was still speckled in blood, and, of course, there were also the black soot stains from the last fire she had managed to escape.  

Shaking his head and gulping away the dryness in his throat, Joel grabbed Ellie’s backpack, turned toward the vanity, and plopped it into the sink. His hands stumbled to grasp at the zippers, his fingers surprisingly shaky. 

“Need’ta get clothes on you,” he said firmly, just as he was finally able to grasp the metal pull fastener, the zipping sound promptly scratching through the air and punctuating his sentence. 

Her backpack wasn’t all that big, but he did have to dig toward the bottom, pulling out her walkman and notebook and tossing them on the vanity counter so he could better see what else she had in there. Her metal water bottle was thrown aside too, a hollow clanking sound filling the air as it hit the counter and rolled. 

“Hey watch it, that’s my shit,” Ellie scolded, arms crossing in front of her chest with a flicker of a pout. She knew he wasn’t trying to be rough - he was just rushing. Yet, she couldn’t hold the comment back. Her emotions were getting a bit jumbled - she always met fear with snarkiness. Growing up in FEDRA had her masking emotions from a young age; otherwise, she would have been eaten alive. 

“Your clothes in my bag?” Joel asked quickly, hands meeting the dirty bottom of hers without finding anything more. 

Confused, she replied, “What?”

“Your spares - ain’t here.” He patted and squeezed at the sides, checking the outer pockets - not that they could fit clothes anyway. He then paused, looking up to meet Ellie's eyes in the mirror’s reflection. “In mine?” he suggested, raising his own brows.  

She took a tentative step toward him, arms falling limply to her sides. A defeated expression gradually overtook her features as she peeked around his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of her bag. 

"Oh... um..." Her voice wavered with uncertainty, her words faltering, as relayed, "They should've been in there."

“Are you sure they ain’t mine?” Joel began, turning to retrieve his bag to investigate, “didn’t you just get- ”

"Yeah. I just fucking just did," she replied, annoyance briefly cutting through her words, a sharp edginess to them. “Those assfucks probably just took them or something.” 

Joel heaved out a shaky breath, anxiety rearing its head monetarily. He knew that was the truth, but it was still not a reality he wanted to have to face, but, there was also no time to dwell on it either. 

“It’s fine I’ll just put back on the -” Joel instantly began shaking his head at her suggestion, causing Ellie to leave the rest unsaid. 

When he had picked up her pants in the living room before, they were cool to the touch and damp, the heat of the room doing little to melt away the iciness still somehow clinging to the fibers. 

“Your pants are too wet; you’ll freeze when we get outside. I got an extra - will make that work.” 

Joel leaned down for his backpack, movements surprisingly brisk as he hoisted the bag off the floor and to the counter, landing it with a thud on the edge of the sink.  His hands dove inside the worn weathered bag, fingers dancing across its contents until they found what he sought, going on touch rather than sight. Dragging his arm up, he pulled the pants out from the very bottom. 

They certainly were not the cleanest, grimy in fact, but they were dry - which really was all either of them could ask for right now. Without a moment's hesitation, he balled and flung them back towards Ellie, not even glancing her way, his focus entirely on his pack, lost in finding the next thing and planning their next steps. 

The denim struck her chest and nearly slipped through her arms, its abrupt arrival catching her off guard. “Joel, what the fuck, dude.”   

The list seemed endless - clothes, protection, exiting, running, cover …  god forbid he would need to fight them off. Every new thing his brain remembered made the air feel even thicker in the bathroom - chest squeezing and squeezing and squeezing - barely able to grab air. 

"Put‘em on." His voice was clipped - rough and urgent- as he rubbed a soothing hand across his chest for a second. He felt like he could hear the ticking of a clock, counting them down until it was all too late - until the situation was finally one of complete failure. 

And no matter how fast he was trying to go - trying to get them to go - it wasn’t going to be enough. They were losing the race. 

“Are you serious?” 

He didn’t dignify it with a reply - they really didn’t have the time. 

"Dude, these aren't going to-" Ellie began to counter, but Joel silenced her, his frustration finally spilling over, voice tinged with exasperation: 

“Just- Goddammit Ellie!” 

It came out with an unintended force that made Ellie flinch - left foot sliding back, body shying away, the click of her switchblade firing open on instinct. She was jumpy down to her bones now - ready to fight, always. 

The silence was thick for a moment as the ring of Joel’s voice lingered in the air, bouncing off the tile and settling between them. He hadn’t met to yell; but like the flames surely biting at the door by now, dread and fear and frustration were burning hot inside him. 

“Sorry…just..,” his hands found the edge of the counter and gripped it hard, knuckles going white while he dropped his head and lowered his voice. With a steadying breath, he continued, “Please listen to me, okay?” He moved his head to the side, balancing his chin on his shoulder as he glanced back at her. “Don’t got time to do this.” 

She gave him a long slow nod before holding the jeans out in front of her and eyeing them up and down. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she gently placed her switchblade on the counter, freeing both her hands to put the pants on.  Tears pricked at her waterline, and she pretended it was just because the bathroom's air was gradually thickening with smoke, a hazy veil forming. She whipped Joel’s jeans in the air, fluffing out the pant legs as she backed toward the toilet, sitting down to put them on. 

Turning back to his bag, Joel muttered, "can't find my spare socks," - more to himself than to her.  His fingers dug through the pack, moving aside items in a desperate bid to find them, eyebrows scrunching closer and closer every second he came up empty-handed. 

“My extra socks? You put’em somewhere?” 

“Used’em. For when you got stabbed. I didn’t have gauze,” she told him flatly as she wiggled her feet through the long pant legs, focusing hard on getting them on.

Joel let out another deep long sigh, learning they were down another crucial item - this time without a replacement. 

Nothing could be easy. 

“Okay,” he muttered softly, taking out an undershirt and flannel and putting them aside before zipping both his and Ellie’s bags up. 

His gaze shifted back to Ellie, concern etched in his features as he watched her struggle with the oversized jeans. Even though she was sitting on the closed toilet lid, her movements were labored as she gathered the excess fabric up her legs. Each bend and twist seemed to draw a silent wince from her. The bruises on her ribs protested under the strain. 

"You okay?" Joel asked, although he knew the answer - clearly could see it. 

Ellie nodded, biting her lip as she worked through the discomfort. 

Briefly, he returned to his task, grabbing the crusty yellowing shirt, and, with a slight grimace, clenched the fabric between his teeth and tore, ripping two sizable pieces - the sound of the tear piercing through the air. He placed them on the counter and then quickly turned his attention back to Ellie just as she stood up from her seat. 

She had managed to pull the jeans up to her hips, but they were comically large, the waistband gaping and slipping down. 

“They’re not going to stay,” she muttered, a note of frustration in her voice as she gathered a handful of fabric at the waistband to keep them in place and then looked up at Joel. 

Within an instant, he was taking off his belt, not having to think longer than a second about it. The leather whipped through the air with a sharp snap, the sound echoing in the small bathroom, just as the shirt had done seconds ago. 

He handed her the belt, and she began threading it through the loops of the jeans as Joel stepped around and crouched in front of her, bracing on the sink cabinet to lower himself to the floor with a prolonged wince of pain. His hands quickly came to the bottom of the jeans and began rolling them up, cuffing them several times until they were the proper length. 

Ellie leaned to the side, reaching for her switchblade with a grimace. She tried not to move too much, mindful of Joel's hands still busy with the fabric at her ankles. Her fingers wrapped around the blade, and she began to carve a new hole into the leather - the existing ones too few to keep the pants tightly in place.

Bending her head down and keeping it there, even just briefly as she drilled a new hole, sent a wave of dizziness crashing over her. The pressure in her head-mounted, concussion flaring up.

Suddenly unsteady, Ellie swayed, her balance faltering. She sat back down on the toilet- a soft thump marking her descent. 

Caught off-guard, and hands still on her pants, Joel almost toppled forward, barely catching himself from falling out of his crouch as he moved with her. He quickly flicked his eyes up to her, a silent question in his gaze, but she was already focused back on the belt - determined but clearly uncomfortable. 

He wasn’t thrilled she was sitting back down - didn’t bode well for what was coming next - but he kept that to himself.  Pants cuffed, Joel straightened up - shakily.  

“Get your boots and socks on,” he instructed as he glanced toward the door. Ellie gave him a nod as he crossed over to it, his movements quick and tense. Holding his breath, he reached out, cautiously touching the wood and the doorknob, checking for any signs of heat.

It was cool, but that did little to quell his anxiety. 

“We need to hurry.” He pressed, looking back towards her. 

“I’m not trying to be fucking slow,” Ellie pushed back.

Her blade finally pierced through Joel’s belt and she threw it back onto the counter and she fumbled to close the buckle. Her head was really starting to pound again, clearly over-irritated; and maybe it was the addition of the smoke, but it was coming to the point where her throat felt tight, nausea mounting. 

“I know you ain’t- just- gotta keep goin’ okay - can’t slow down.”

She screwed her eyes shut for a moment, so hard the little crow's feet scrunched at the sides of her face. It numbed the pain for a second, but not completely. 

“My fucking head is making that a little hard,” she admitted. 

Seeing the pained look on her face, Joel was moving to help her before she even had time to protest, hands digging into her boots and retrieving her still-damp socks, balled and cold. He gave his head a small shake as he unraveled them, chastising himself for not laying them out by the fire after stripping them off her before. 

Carefully, again, he bent down in front of where she sat. 

“So we’re just going to run?”

He scrunched up the fabric, stretched out the opening, and slipped it onto her foot with a fluidity that was surely born from years of practice.

“Don’t have much else of a choice.”

“It’s still snowing right?” She asked, tone tinged with a subtle sense of worry. 

He paused for a fraction second - an image of her going hypothermic again, but he quickly cleared the intrusive thought away.

“It’s slowing down,” he said with a curt nod. He hoped it was true. 

When both socks were on he leaned and grabbed her boots. His fingers plucked at the laces, loosening them quickly, before hastily and roughly wedging them onto her feet, little care for any possible discomfort. Ellie’s face scrunched as she tried to help, pushing her feet down into the stiff boots - practically semi-frozen. 

“I don’t have a coat-“ 

“-You’ll take mine.” He replied firmly and quickly- answer already in mind. He pulled hard at her laces - the sharp sound punctuating the end of his statement as he synched the boot up as tight as it would go. 

Ellie’s eyes followed his hands as they made work of her laces. Despite Joel’s best efforts to keep them steady, they were shaking like a leaf, barely able to keep the ties from fumbling out from between his fingers. 

“They - the people from the town - it’s them right?” She asked, voice dropping softer than it had been, true emotions finally starting to peek through. 

Joel looked up through his brows briefly, catching her eyes with his. He nodded slowly, with an affirmative hum as he tucked both the pant legs into her boots as best as possible. 

Ellie exhaled hard through her nose, enough to where Joel could feel the warm air hit his forehead.

“It’ll be alright - ain’t nothin’ we can do about them ‘sept run, but first we need ta focus on gettin’ outta here, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered in a soft reply.

Once both boots were snugly on, Joel rose to his feet, wincing slightly from a sharp pain in his side. Ellie mirrored his action, gingerly supporting her ribs with a protective arm. Joel swiftly grabbed his spare flannel from the counter, shaking it out before gripping the sleeves firmly. He approached Ellie, extending the shirt towards her. Confusion flickered across her face as he moved closer, her eyes narrowing and eyebrows knitting together in a silent question.

But, there wasn’t any time to ask what he was doing - movements purposeful and fluid. Quickly, he placed the shirt over her hair, and brought the sleeves down the sides of her face and under, carefully tying the flannel like a headscarf, securing the knot under her chin.

Suddenly, the sound of another crash echoed through the door, followed by distant hollering that seeped in through a small crack in the bathroom window. This time, although still coming from outside, the voices were much more clear - “We know you’re in there!” 

Ellie’s eyes flicked toward the window, following the sound of the voices, eyes blown wide.

“You look at me, Ellie-”,  Joel said forcefully, grabbing at her chin, pushing her eyes to meet him instead. They were drowning in apprehension, but he desperately needed her to focus. 

“We get out there, you keep runnin’, you understand?”

Even held firm in place by his hand, she managed to give her head a small defiant shake side to side. She didn’t want to leave him.

“Keep goin’ even if you don’t see me, okay?” His voice softened just slightly - a contrast to the hard set of his jaw and the worry etched deep in the lines around his eyes.

“But-”

“You keep goin’ til you can’t run no more then you find somewhere small. Tuck yourself in and hide, real small.” 

Joel’s hand trailed from her chin and to the side of her face, fingers skimming the edge of the flannel. Gently, he tucked a stray piece of her cold wet hair beneath the fabric as his thumb rubbed gently at her cheekbone. 

“You can do that right?” 

Her eyes were prickling with tears now, beads of water pooling at the edges. She couldn’t think of anything worse than leaving him. 

“You won’t-” 

“- I’ll find you. I found you last time. I’ll do it again.” 

He didn't know what else to say to make this any less scary. 

Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Joel turned away and took the remnants of his shirt, now reduced to scraps, and dampened them with the last of their water. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He handed one piece to Ellie and wrapped the other around his face, fashioning it into a makeshift bandana.  

"Do the same," he instructed, his voice muffled behind the cloth. Ellie did. 

As he put the back and rifle over his shoulder, he gave her the plan - raising his voice so it was clear even blocked by the cloth.

“We’re goin’ to try to go out the slider in the living room.” 

“Not the front?”

“Think they are trying to push us that way. So I need you to do what I say when I say it alright? Don’t have time for questions.”

Ellie gave Joel a nervous look but ultimately nodded hard. 

He stooped to pick up his coat from the floor, the fabric heavy and stiff. He held it open for Ellie, guiding her arms through the sleeves and zipping her in. He then did the same with her  backpack, ensuring it was securely on her shoulders. 

He couldn’t help but pause for a second and look at her - bundled to the nines, everything too big. Despite their best efforts, Joel’s pants were bunching and hanging weirdly out of the tops of her boots. His coat hung off her shoulders and stretched all the way just past the middle of her thighs, a short dress of sorts. Even his flannel covering her hair and the half piece of shirt over her mouth looked too big - out of place. 

And peaking through it, were her eyes - big brown orbs that he had never seen so filled with worry. They were the most out of place of it all. 

Joel took a breath.

“You trust me?” 

“Yeah, just -” she said, bending to grab the quilt from the floor and handing it to him, shaking her head instead of finishing her sentence with words. He took the fabric from her with a sympathetic nod. 

“I know you're scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she lied, voice gaining a higher pitch as a red flag. 

“I ain’t going to let anything happen to us,” Joel offered - it was perhaps a lie too.

Turning around, he approached the door once more, palm pressing against its surface, testing the safety of the other side. The wood was still cool to the touch - a small mercy. He cracked the door open, and tendrils of smoke immediately pushed in, hitting his eyes, and he shut it. He took a step back, blinking hard, and then opened the door again, more prepared this time. He quickly popped his out checking the hallway was safe before closing the door a fraction of an inch.

“Ready?”

Ellie nodded. 

“Ready.”

With a firm but reassuring grip, Joel took Ellie's wrist. He opened the door fully, and pulled her through, moving quickly. The fire blazing in the living room was encroaching on the beginning of the hallway, casting long, orange ominous shadows down to them.  

He had them pause at the doorway to the living room, taking in the now heavy inferno of crackling flames and suffocating smoke. It had progressed more than he thought it would have - slider almost too far away.

Joel's eyes darted around, seeking out a viable path through the blaze, but nothing was all that much more clear than anything else.

“Joel,” she called out anxiously - taking in the same sight as he was.  

“I know,  I know,” he replied, voice laced with urgency. He gave her wrist a gentle reassuring squeeze before ushering her in front of him, dragging her by the same grip. “Get in front of me,” he said, positioning her so close that her backpack dug into his stomach. If his brain and body weren’t so preoccupied with reconciling the fact it was about to walk through fire, the pain of her bag hitting his stitches probably would have sent him to the ground. Instead, he sucked in a startled pained breath which only had him coughing, despite the wet cloth over his face and nose. 

Recentering, he continued: “You’re goin’ to have to stay real close, okay?” 

Joel took the quilt, draped it over his back, and then extended it over her, enclosing them both inside the fabric. 

“Take’em… hold ‘em from the inside,” he instructed between lingering tickles of a cough, holding out the blanket’s edges for Ellie to grasp onto it. 

She gave a brisk nod and took the ends for him, one hand still grasping her switchblade and the other shaking, but still managed to hold the quilt in place around them. Joel’s arms snaked back towards his center, stopping at Ellie’s head and pushing it down - chin to her chest- before ultimately landing on her shoulders. He could feel she was shaking. 

“I’ll lead ya - just stay tucked.”

Ellie responded with a small nod, Joel’s flannel on her head scratching against the fabric of the quilt. It was better like this-  she didn’t want to look at the flames anyway. 

Joel inched forward, his steps deliberate and slow, navigating through the inferno with a protective vigilance. The heat was intense, a pressing force against their makeshift shield. The crackling of the fire mingled with the sound of their labored breathing, creating an almost rhythmic cadence amidst chaos tearing away at the living room. 

The quilt got tighter, Ellie's grip on the ends increasing at the front. 

A loud crack resonated through the room as a burning chunk of the ceiling crumpled, plummeting down toward them just inches away. The sound had Joel's instincts kicking in immediately,  and with a swift movement, he turned Ellie to the side, ducking them both out of its path. Narrowly avoiding the falling debris, they were enveloped in a shower of sparks and embers as the remnants hit the ground - white-hot grains hitting the quilt instead of their clothes. Hesitantly, Joel raised his head and straightened up, heart beating fast as he appraised the status of their path forward now. The large piece of plaster on the ground was definitely in their way, but thankfully, was not blocking the entire way forward.

A small miracle. 

With renewed determination, Joel guided Ellie away toward the open route, shuffling to the side past the hot burning couch. The heat was almost unbearable now, and the smoke made it hard to see and breathe. Joel was finding it hard to even keep his eyes open. 

"Nearly there," he murmured, half-lost in the roar of the fire. He wasn't sure if he was reassuring Ellie or himself. He could feel the tension in her body, the slight shivers that weren't just from the heat. It was fear, raw and unfiltered, but she was holding on, just as he was.

His hold on her shoulders tightened, pulling her closer, ensuring she was as shielded as possible from the flames. The perimeter flames were more intense than those engulfing the furniture in the center, and despite knowing it necessary - a small part of Joel couldn’t help but wonder if he was making the wrong decision. 

Suppressing a set of coughs, Joel pressed on, the tips of his boots colliding with Ellie’s heels as they shuffled the last few feet, his gaze fixed forward on the reflective glow of the sliding glass door. When his hand finally came to the handle, he threw it open with expeditious force. The frame bounced off as it hit the end of the track and the glass crackled as it broke apart more- the hole Ellie had put in it acting as an epicenter to a full shatter. 

He urged Ellie out first, following immediately behind and slamming the glass slide shut. Together they took several hasty steps forward, almost tripping each other up still wrapped in the quilt, before Ellie finally released her grip on it, dropping it into the snow, and freeing them both. 

For a moment, neither of them moved - caught off guard by how warm the outside air felt against the exposed bits of their faces- not bitterly cold like it should have been. The promise of crisp cool air would have been a prize for making it out - and now, the fire took that away too.

Ellie raked in a breath, the fabric of Joel’s t-shirt sucking into her mouth with the heave as she blinked several times, trying to moisten her dry eyes. Joel did the same, breaths deep, chest rising and falling as he stood behind her. He wiped the remaining smoke from his eyes as they dissected the treeline of the backyard, not allowing himself much time to catch his breath at all. 

Joel's body tensed, his stance shifting subtly, eyes narrowing. 

His hands found Ellie's back, landing squarely between her shoulder blades. With a firm push, he propelled her forward.

“Run.” 

[toointojoelmiller]

please don't go: a last of us fic

after David / Silver Lake / post-episode 8

angst, Joel & Ellie bonding, 99% canon compliant

rating: mature - content warnings re: s/a, violence, gore, more

The best found father-daughter duo help each other recover, work through their trauma, stay alive - hopefully a satisfying fill in for things we didn't get to see after winter !

if you're after a long read here's one for you

work in prog! +100k words

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7 | ch 8 | ch 9 | ch 10 | ch 11 | ch 12

I'm no longer copying this over to tumblr because it got way too long and it's too much!!!! Read on ao3 for the updated chapters

please don't go: chapter 1

Ellie’s frantic eyes finally seem to focus on him, and he can see her body language shift immediately. The hard adrenaline fuelled tension in her muscles sinks away as her face falls into unsettling blankness – he didn’t think it was possible but she somehow looks even smaller. Her lips start moving but she isn’t saying anything. Only low, halting sounds, whimpers and soft gasps of air that slice into his gut with a hurt nearly as sharp as the sewn up hole in his side. 

“It’s me,” he hears himself repeating. Never feeling more useless in his life, except for - it feels wrong to think of Sarah right now, with Ellie so immediately in need in front of him, but the image of her pink t-shirt soaked in blood swims up in his mind anyway, crystal clear even 20 years later, her heaving and jerking belly so small it’s easily covered by the width of his hands until it suddenly stills. He learned a long time ago that he’s helpless to fight it when this moment flashes back to him. 

This is what is written in the stars for Joel - his girls, too good and too sweet to know better than to trust him until that mistake catches up and they pay with their blood. It’s what he deserves. But - he’d seen it coming with Ellie - he’d known he wasn’t going to be able to keep her safe - Tommy would have never let - why the fuck does he keep existing when he’s so goddamn weak, worthless, worse than - poison, ruining everyone he - 

Ellie moves towards him and presses her face into the crook of his neck with more babbling - a word too this time, “He-” - and the weight of her, the warmth of her cheek against his is the only thing that could possibly bring him back into his body.

He feels his blood pound in his head as he wraps his hand up around the back of her neck – so impossibly small – tangling his fingers through her knotted hair, holds her against him like she’s made of glass. Her whole body is trembling.

“It’s ok, baby girl,” he says in a breath as he shuts his eyes, trying to keep himself upright against a surge of heartache. He hears the words as if someone else has said them, like they didn’t leave his lips – but immediately feels the truth in it. The wall he’s tried to keep up between Ellie and Sarah, the nothing-but-bullshit line he’s drawn to try to somehow separate what they are to him is gone. There’s no more pretending. She’s his to take care of – that’s how she ended up here shaking and bleeding, after all, isn’t it?

His penance for failing Sarah is a life sentence, but Ellie’s still here, in the flesh and breathing (he thanks the god he’s never believed in). She needs him present more than he needs to hate himself. There’s a future full of self-loathing stretching out ahead of him - time for that later. For now he just needs to get her safe.  

“We need to leave, baby,” he says, clearing his throat as it strains from the lack of use. He feels the urgency as the words leave his mouth – they don’t stand much of a chance if more men are coming after them, and though he’d die before he let anything (else) happen to her, who would be left to take care of her then? He pulls back from holding her to look at her face again, eyes tracking over the hollow look in her eyes and the fresh blood splattered on her skin. He’s never seen anyone who needs to be taken care of more.

“Are you hurt? Can you walk?” He waits a moment for an answer that he knows isn’t coming. Ellie’s little fingers twist and pinch on the sleeves of his jacket as she holds onto his arms, but she’s still standing. He sees the moment the shakiness that he felt running through her body moves from invisible to visible, and on instinct he quickly slips off his pack, shrugging off his jacket to wrap around her. She’s swimming in it.

“I’ve got you, honey, let’s go,” he says as he shifts to her side, wrapping his arm around her as he begins moving through the snow. Walking again makes the ache in his side throb angrily and he clenches his teeth to keep from groaning out loud.

Ellie starts shuffling along next to him, thank fuck – he’s sure he couldn’t carry her now – but she’s unsteady. After a few steps she falls against his side, leaning her weight against him like she can’t stand on her own. He hates that he’s so weak he feels his body start to do the same. His brain conjures up an image of the skyline as they left the Boston QZ so long ago – two crumbling buildings fallen inward, holding each other in place.

Ellie stumbles and he tightens his arm around her to keep her upright. She makes a noise, half choking and half swallowing, sounding like the air is being pushed out of her lungs. 

“It’s ok, I’ve got you,” he keeps saying. It’s all he can offer. “I’m here.” It’s not enough.

---

Going back along the road towards the suburbs seemed like a death sentence – they're moving so slowly, and clearly the area was within the boundaries of where the group they’re running from was willing to go. If anyone was coming after them it would be the first place they’d look. But the longer they push forward with nothing in sight the more he’s convinced he's made a mistake that will kill them.

It's near silent in the aftermath of the snowstorm, and it’s rough going along the edge of the woods with patches of snowdrifts occasionally blown so high they nearly have to climb their way over. They’ve both sunk down half way up their shins more than a few times and their wet jeans are freezing against their skin.

He doesn’t know how they’re still going. They’ve been moving for hours.

The only noise is the occasional whistle of the wind, and it’s not enough to cover up their heavy breathing and slow, shuffling steps crunching through the snow. It makes it obvious when Ellie starts to flag, the cadence of her steps shifting as her feet start to shuffle and drag more than stepping, and he tries to swallow down swelling, suffocating dread as he scans around them for somewhere to rest. Time is running out – the sun, he’s horrified to acknowledge, has started to dip behind the tree line. He’s hurting more intensely the longer they walk, and he’s sure Ellie is too. Her breath is coming in pants and whines – she sounds so young he aches.

When snow starts to fall again around them, softly first and then steadily picking up, he fights back the urge to start screaming.

They’re fucking doomed – their bodies are running on empty. They’ll stumble soon and find they can’t get up, and he won’t be able to do anything at all other than pull Ellie close to him as they wait to freeze to death. No sooner has the thought crossed his mind than Ellie crumples at the knees and his mind goes empty with terror. He tries to squeeze in the arm around her when he realizes she’s sinking but he’s too slow. She thumps down hard onto her knees on the ground and is only spared from ending up face first in the snow by the way her upper body slams sideways into Joel’s legs.

“M’ sorry,” she’s mumbling, he realizes in horror as he drops down with her and grabs her shoulders to stop her from collapsing. His wound is fucking ripping as he kneels. He tries to soothe her as she keeps trying to get words out.

“Sorry, I ca- I –” seems to be all she can manage before she falls back into silence. Her teeth are chattering and she’s weakly grabbing onto his pants as if to pull herself up, even as her lower body remains motionless. She’s too weak, too tired. She’s done. 

Joel takes a breath, and then another, and another. His vision is tunnelling as he drowns in the fear. This can’t be it.

“Gotta get up, baby, we can’t stop here, gotta get you somewhere warm,” he’s saying, knowing damn well that no such place is around. Ellie closes her eyes and leans her head into him like she’s falling asleep. An angry sob catches in his throat. 

He closes his eyes and leans his face down into the top of her head, breathing her in and out, sliding his numb fingers into her hair to hold her tight against him again, and looks around asking a miracle.

And finds one.

From the slightly lower vantage point, he can see just a few feet further into the trees, below the bottom branches of a cluster of pine trees, and there it is, undeniably - wood. Pressure treated. It looks like the edge of – a porch?

He shifts sideways to see more and really tests the limits of the stitches in his side – fuck, fuck, fuck – and he’s flooded with relief. It’s not a porch – just a couple wooden steps, leading up to what has to be the bottom of a door. A cabin? It can’t be more than 50 feet away.

“Ellie, look,” he croaks out, and she doesn’t move. He points. “Look, there’s a building – we just gotta get there and we can rest, ok?”

For a moment he thinks she’s still not responding, and she doesn’t turn to look where he’s pointing, but he feels a small nod as she moves her head, and she mumbles a quiet “’Kay” into his shirt.

He’s breathless with pride – she’s so goddamn tough, the strongest person he’s ever met – and the fresh surge of adrenaline is enough for him to stand and tug her up on wobbly legs, to tuck her back into his side and move them forward, foot by shaky foot, moving away from their almost-grave in the snow.

-----

working on transferring from ao3 to here but here's the ao3 link if you want more now - updates regularly on ao3 (36 ch so far!)

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 37

read on ao3! (173k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

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

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

Word count: 2.6k

at last, we have reached the final chapter of 'a fragile line'! thank you so much for reading, I've had the best time writing this over the past year ❤️

I will also be writing an epilogue for this story and it'll be up soon - much love xxx

Juliet’s POV:

Juliet’s eyes blinked open to the sound of gentle snoring.

She allowed her head to roll to the side, following the sound, until she found its source: Joel Miller, the man she loved, the man who loved her, asleep in a chair beside her bed. He looked exhausted, the lines on his face were more pronounced and his jaw was clenched in a way that told Juliet he wasn’t truly resting. 

Juliet inhaled a slow aching breath as her gaze slid back to the ceiling. She wondered how long Joel had been sitting beside her, how long she had been looked after, and guilt threatened to swell in her chest.

Her thoughts were cut off when the door to her old bedroom opened and Ethan’s head snuck through the gap, his eyes widened when he saw that Juliet was awake and he pushed the door open further and stepped into the room. His steps were careful and quiet as his gaze darted to the man sleeping beside her and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

Ethan rounded the bed and stopped beside her before he dropped silently into the other chair. Juliet turned to him, swallowing rough as she prepared herself for bad news.

“How are you feeling?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Juliet inhaled a sharp breath and allowed herself to assess her injuries. Thanks to the medication Charlotte and Ethan had brought with them, the pain from her lost finger had settled to a dull ache which flared only when she moved it. The infection had cleared up too, and Juliet had woke with a feeling of renewed clarity in her mind, the fuzziness was gone. She glanced at Joel, her eyes skimming over his face and she watched for a moment as his chest rose and fell. Charlotte had treated his head and had been monitoring his concussion closely, Juliet had watched him squirm as Charlotte disinfected his wound and told him to take it easy.

Juliet remembered the sight of him in the basement and she flinched internally. 

She turned back to Ethan who was watching her with a curious, if not worried, expression.

“Better,” Juliet answered finally, her lips tilting upwards in an effort to convince him. 

Ethan nodded, then his gaze dropped to his hands.

“We need to get out of here,” he declared, looking up at her. “Matt’s been patrolling the town and, with John dead, the people who are left are scared and hungry. Your stunt with the bodies on the front porch has been working so far but we’re days if not hours away from a group of them gathering together and coming for us.”

Juliet’s heart jumped, and she moved to sit up.

“Okay,” she murmured, processing everything Ethan said. Juliet winced when she remembered herself dragging those bodies to the porch as a brutal, violent warning to the town not to mess with her. “Let’s go then, we have the horses you came here on, we can head back to Jackson just now.” 

Ethan blinked at her, then his eyes narrowed.

“Are you sure Jackson’s where you want to go?” he questioned, and Juliet couldn’t help but notice an edge to his tone.

She stared back at him, her head tilted to the side. “Of course I do, what do you mean?”

“Just making sure you’re not going to leave again,” he replied with a shrug as he straightened his spine. 

Juliet’s breath caught as guilt wrapped itself around her throat. She had explained to Ethan, when she first woke, why she left, why she had to return here. He had been shocked, he couldn’t really understand her decision to leave and Juliet wasn’t surprised as, despite everything that her friend had been through, he always knew who he was. Ethan was smart, caring and unwaveringly positive. 

He was the bright sky on a clear day, and Juliet was the dark cloud.

Her whole life, Juliet had been an empty space, a person who was hollow inside. Elijah had filled the cavity inside her with hatred and fear, and Juliet had believed that she had no choice but to be the person he moulded her to be: timid, scared… violent. Danny’s words had hollowed her out again, leaving her as another blank slate, ready to find out who she actually was - not who she was moulded to be.

Juliet turned to Joel, quickly running her eyes over his face. He would follow her anywhere, she knew he would.

She inhaled deeply as she thought about her time in Jackson: the twinkling lights in the mess hall, the Christmas tree she decorated with Ethan, the conversations she had with Charlotte, her patrols with Matt…

Juliet lay in her childhood bed, in the house she grew up in. But it was also the house where she was abused, the house where she was nearly killed, the house where Joel beat Elijah to death.

This wasn’t home, it never was. 

Juliet’s eyes met Ethan’s. “I don’t expect you to understand why I came back here,” she started, and reached out her good hand to clasp around his. Ethan’s eyes shot to her face. “You got me out of here years ago and I can never express to you how grateful I am for that. And then, when I came back, you almost got yourself killed to get me out again,” Juliet paused, blinking away tears that blurred her vision. “I know what it cost you both times, it’s a debt I can never repay.”

Juliet took another breath. “You’re angry at me for leaving Jackson, for coming back here.” 

Ethan shifted in his chair, but he didn’t let go of her hand. 

“I deserve it,” she murmured, then raised her chin, meeting Ethan’s eyes again. “But even when I left here there was some part of me that wanted to come back,” Juliet confessed, her heart pounding. “Charlotte said that I have PTSD, and maybe some variant of stockholm syndrome, whatever that is,” she shrugged. “I thought I was going to end up like him. He only ever taught me how to hate, not to love and I … I thought that maybe being away from here was only delaying the inevitable.”

Ethan squeezed her hand.

“So when I found out that… that I didn’t actually belong here, that I had parents and a life before this. Ethan, I’m sorry but I had to know if it was true.” 

Juliet looked around the room, her gaze settling on the handcuffs attached to the radiator behind Ethan. The horrors of her childhood threatened to rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

“My life was stolen from me, I know that now,” Juliet choked out. “I want to go back to Jackson, I want to make a life for myself, I want a home, I want…” she turned her head to look at Joel as he slept. “I was just surviving before, I want to live.”

Ethan huffed out a breath, then stood and enveloped her body in a tight, warm hug.

Juliet lifted her good hand to wrap around his back as the tears that had threatened her vision finally began to fall. 

“I understand,” Ethan murmured in her ear as he squeezed tighter, not willing to let go yet. “You aren’t Elijah, you aren’t what he did to you. You’re Juliet, you’re my best friend, and I love you.”

Juliet dropped her forehead to his shoulder as his words settled in the most hollow parts of her heart, taking root and healing some of the damage. 

“Thank you,” she murmured against his shirt. “Thank you for coming back here, for saving me again.” 

Ethan pulled back and looked down at her, his lips were curved into a soft smile. 

“You saved me, so I saved you. That’s how this works,” he said, then leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

Juliet’s eyes followed him as he moved back and stood, straightening his back as he ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes were rimmed with red. 

“We’re leaving in an hour,” he announced in a thick voice. “Even with the horses, it’ll be a long journey so you should get ready.”

Juliet released a heavy, weighted sigh as she watched Ethan turn and walk out the door, then she allowed her head to drop back to her pillow. 

Ethan’s words had shifted something in her, she felt lighter, like he’d cut away some of the scar tissue that refused to let her heal.

“You alright?” a gruff voice asked from beside her.

Juliet’s heart jumped as she pushed herself up and turned, finding Joel sitting forward in his chair, hands clasped and his eyes locked on hers.

She nodded slowly. Juliet wasn’t okay yet, but she would be. 

Joel’s hand reached up before she could notice the movement, and his fingers trailed over her cheek, collecting the tears that stained her skin and replacing them with a scorching red flush. 

“How much of that did you hear?” she breathed, her heart was pounding at the feeling of his touch.

Joel leaned back, rolling his fingers together, examining her tears on his rougher skin. Then he tilted his head up towards her and lifted his shoulders slightly.

“Enough,” he revealed in his signature gravelly voice, still thick with sleep.

Juliet turned her head, embarrassed that Joel had witnessed such a raw conversation.

“Hey,” Joel said, capturing her attention with a firm grip on her arm. “Don't do that.”

Juliet blinked at him, suddenly unsure of his reaction. She waited for Joel to take back his words from the other night, to call her selfish and shame her for coming back here, for getting him hurt.

Instead, Joel’s grip on her arm loosened and she felt his thumb begin to glide across her skin in soft, soothing movements. He had moved forward in his chair, and Juliet’s head unconsciously moved towards him. 

Joel refused to break eye contact, he demanded her full attention as she watched his jaw clench and his pupils flare.

“Tell me it was worth it,” he demanded in a low voice. “Comin’ back here, gettin’ hurt. Tell me I didn’t make a mistake.”

Juliet’s breath caught in her throat as she digested Joel’s weighted words. She could see the guilt swimming in his eyes and the doubt hardening his expression.

Was it worth it? 

Juliet looked at Joel’s bloodstained skin, then her eyes dropped to her butchered hand, her stomach dropped at the sight. The truth cost a high price, and they had paid it.

Was it worth it? 

She considered the room she lay in. It used to terrify her, it was suffocating and reminded her how weak she was. Now, as she glanced at the peeling walls and the dampened ceiling, Juliet saw the house for what it really was: a prison that didn’t hold her anymore.

She’d gotten out. 

Was it worth it?

Juliet’s eyes found Joel’s again, they were searching. She knew that he was digging in, attempting to decode the thoughts inside her head. 

Before they’d left Jackson, Juliet was pretending. She thought that if she put on a good show, if she smiled and laughed when she was supposed to, and played the part of a happy, grateful survivor, that she’d eventually feel that way. But it wasn’t real. Juliet was broken, and hurt, and frightened. 

When Joel had left her that day in that cold, Juliet thought she deserved it. Of course, he didn’t want to be with her, how could he want someone like her? Someone stained with the hatred of her father. 

Now, when she looked at Joel, and recalled the words they whispered to each other in the dark, Juliet realised that she’d been wrong. This house hadn’t broken her, her father hadn’t broken her. She’d survived this town again.

Elijah had taken her childhood from her, he had taken the life she was supposed to have, and he had erased the person she was supposed to be. But he wasn’t going to take her future. 

It had taken her too long to realise it, and it had almost cost her her life.

But she knew now.

This house didn’t scare her anymore. She wasn’t trapped here anymore. This wasn’t supposed to be her life.

Was it worth it? 

Juliet felt the corners of her mouth stretch into a careful smile. She blinked up at the man beside her, watching for a moment as he scanned her face and his expression became more puzzled.

Then she nodded. 

“It was worth it,” she whispered, and watched as the line between his eyebrows smoothed and his eyes widened.

One day, Juliet would tell Joel what Danny revealed to her just before he died. She would tell him about her parents, and how they met their end. But just now, Juliet didn’t want to think about her past. 

With her good hand, Juliet pushed the blanket off and moved her legs to the side of the bed. Joel was there, gripping her arms, helping her to her feet, brushing the hair off her forehead.

Juliet’s hand found his face again, her fingers traced the scruff on his cheek.

“I’m sorry for everything that’s happened, for everything you’ve had to do because of me,” she breathed.

Joel’s breath caught and a muscle in his tight jaw jumped. He stared down at Juliet with a hardening expression. 

“I’d do it again,” he choked out, as his finger caught a wayward curl and tucked it behind her ear. Joel swallowed rough and cupped the back of her neck with his other hand, sending a shiver down Juliet’s spine. 

“If it meant I’d be here, with you. Juliet, I’d do it all again.”

Juliet released a heavy breath as his words washed over her. She thought about everything they had been through since that night she knocked on his door and her chest tightened. 

“I would too,” Juliet replied, and she truly meant it. 

After a long moment, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his, more forcefully than she had intended and Juliet had to grip his shoulder to maintain her balance.

Joel’s grip on the back of her neck tightened as his head tilted to the side and deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue. His body shuddered with the feeling. 

Juliet responded in kind, and her good hand found his hair, pulling him towards her. She poured everything into the kiss, with her lips she told Joel how sorry she was, how grateful she felt, how terrified she was to lose him. Juliet wasn’t even surprised when she tasted the salt from her tears on his tongue.

Joel broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he pressed their foreheads together. Juliet could feel his heartbeat pounding against her own chest.

Juliet had always thought that home was a place, a trap, somewhere to run away from, to escape. But it wasn’t, and as she stood there in the house she had once called her home, Juliet realised how wrong she had been. 

Home was rough fingers smoothing her hair, home was the smell of smoke and pine, home was harsh commands and soft words in the dark. Home was a feeling deep in her chest, filling the hollowness, healing her scars.

Home was nothing like she could ever have imagined, and as she felt Joel’s hot breath burn her skin and his lips meet hers while his groan reverberated through their bodies, she knew that this was it, and that it was real.

Juliet traced his skin with her trembling finger and pulled back enough to meet Joel’s near black eyes.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered, and for the first time, the word didn’t leave a bitter taste in her mouth. 

Joel held her in his dark gaze for a long moment, just watching her, until his eyes fell closed and his lips met her hairline.

“Home,” he murmured.

_________________________

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