#They try to find where she was made to find the “real ellie” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

damneddamsy · 12 days ago

Text

falling | joel miller x fem!oc (part iii)

summary: Joel’s delicate attachment to Leela and baby Maya deepens along with—her resistance, his denial, and the slow, inevitable way he’s always finding his way back to them. As they navigate a freak accident, Ellie sees it. He does too. Almost.

a/n: ah-woohooooo more of Joel being a thickheaded numpty, so enjoy! I would love to hear all your unhinged, lovely thoughts!

It had been a quiet few weeks for Joel.

Not the kind of quiet he liked—the stillness of early mornings, with the wind rustling the trees and a guitar strumming in his hands. No, this was the one that came after a storm, when the air was dense with the scent of rain and the world felt... upside down. Unsettled. The kind of quiet where the damage had already been done, and all that was left was to pick through the wreckage.

The kind of quiet that made a man think too much. It pressed into him, heavy and suffocating.

Since that night in the car, since he’d seen her unravel in real time, the tacit MO had changed. On more welcome news, Mal had stopped coming around. No thanks to him, of course.

Joel saw him through the window the first morning he returned to Leela's place. Mal was coming up the path with the same easy stride, hands in his pockets like he had a right to be there. God, just once, he wanted to knock the teeth off that goddamned kid.

Joel set down his hammer and exhaled through his nose. Bless Tommy for leaving the fun part to him. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and stepped out onto the porch before the kid could even knock. The heavy door groaned on its hinges behind him, and he let it.

Mal spotted him and gave a lazy wave, stepping forward. “Hey, man. I’m just here to—”

Joel shifted in front of him. Not aggressive. Just there. An immense wall of quiet warning.

Mal stopped short, blinking up at him.

Joel wasn’t even trying to stand taller, but he didn’t need to. He just crossed his arms over his chest, let his shoulders square out naturally, let his stance say everything. He wasn’t fucking moving.

The kid hesitated, confusion flickering across his face. “Uh—is there a problem?”

“I’ll take it from here,” Joel said, voice even.

Mal frowned. “What?”

“I said, whatever it is, I got it.”

There was a pause. A moment where Joel could see the gears turning in Mal’s head, where the kid was piecing things together a little too slow for his liking.

“Okay, but Tommy said—”

“Yeah, well.” Joel leaned forward, just enough to be felt. Watched Mal’s jaw tighten, and watched him shift back on instinct. “Not anymore.”

That finally landed. Mal thankfully rocked back on his heels and rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced past Joel, toward the house, then back, brows knitting together, trying to make sense of what was going on. What he'd done wrong.

"Uh... do you want help, at least?" he offered, cautious.

Joel let out a slow breath, something close to a laugh—if you could call it that. There was nothing warm in it. "You run along now."

Mal lingered for another second, like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. And like a kid being told off, he tucked his tail and left.

Joel didn’t bother to watch him go. Just turned on his heel, grabbed the door, and went back inside. “Fuckin' pest,” he grumbled under his breath.

The house was quiet—only the soft creak of the stairs, followed by the sound of careful, steady footsteps.

He looked up and saw Leela was making her way down, one hand carefully bracing against the railing. She was in sweats and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled into a low-hanging bun. There was something different about her face today—sharper, cleaner, blanker maybe. Or maybe he was just seeing her in a better light now.

She caught him staring. "Was that Mal?"

Joel simply lied, "No."

She pressed her lips together. Not quite disappointment, not quite relief. Something in between. “Oh,” she said quietly. “Maybe later.”

Joel hooked a thumb through the loop of his tool belt, retrieving the hammer he’d slung there. He twirled it once, catching the handle in his palm.

“Don't worry about it. He’s a busy guy,” he said, keeping his voice light as he crossed her on the staircase. “Lots of shit to fix around town.”

More importantly, Leela didn’t ask why or how. Soon enough, she stopped looking for Mal. Didn’t even question when Joel started showing up every day instead with his old tool belt slung over his shoulder, standing at her door like it was the most unassuming thing in the world. She just looked at him—one glance, one unreadable flicker of those dark, tired eyes—and then moved on like it didn’t matter. Like he wasn’t there at all. Stiffing him, essentially.

And Joel knew that kind of distance. This gaping rupture, widened between people when something sore and hideous had been exposed. When someone had seen too much; known too much. Leela knew she’d overstepped, and now she was pulling back.

Joel knew that feeling. He’d done it plenty himself. That instinct to retreat, to pull the shutters down, to make yourself small. Hell, he’d lived it. Had become it.

So he let it happen. He let her pretend again. Didn't push, didn't say anything. He simply worked.

The nursery was coming together, slowly but surely. The pendant lights were fixed, casting warm pools of gold over the room. The shelves stood straighter, stocked with whatever Maria had been sneaking in—baby books, folded blankets, onesies, wooden toys. And the old fuchsia rug he’d found in Leela’s storage? It tied the whole damn thing together, like a relic of a forgotten life, all lived-in and warm for the baby girl.

Joel stood in the centre of it all, Maya cradled in his arms, rocking slightly on his heels. Not that she could appreciate any of this yet. A safe space of her own.

He had never been the kind of man who cooed at babies either. Hadn’t been that way when Sarah was small, hadn’t been that way in the years since. There was something about them—so soft, so fragile—that made him cautious, like he had to hold back, keep himself in check.

Maya made it easier.

"Hi," he whispered to her after her naps. "Did you sleep well? Huh, pretty girl? C'mere."

She made tiny, thoughtful expressions like she was really listening to him. Her little hands were always reaching, always curious. Right now, she was watching the lights with those big brown eyes, mesmerized by the slow shift of the shadows on the ceiling, her mouth parting slightly in wonder. Her fingers curled absently in his shirt, barely grasping, like she just liked knowing he was there.

She’d been a fussy one lately—tired, restless, wanting to be held more often than not. Lonely. And with a mama like Leela, who drifted too easily and got lost too deep in her own head, Joel figured it wasn’t a bad idea to show her around. Give her something new to look at.

“What do you think, baby girl?” he murmured, shifting her closer, his palm smoothing down her tiny back. “Did I do okay or what?”

Maya blinked up at him, her whole body stilling for a second before she let out a soft, breathy coo.

Joel grinned. “Yeah?” he chuckled. “That a yes?”

She wiggled in his hold, that gummy little smile coming alive, kicking lightly against his ribs, and Joel felt himself exhale—deep, easy, something loosening inside him. She liked it. The nursery. The lights. Him. Maybe none of it mattered in that little head of hers, but she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t fussing. She was looking at him like she trusted him, and God help him, but he wanted to deserve that.

He took her toward the shelves, kneeling carefully with her in one arm, balancing his weight as he pointed to the row of paint cans. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s pick a colour. What’s it gonna be, huh?” He tilted them slightly, exposing the faded labels. “We got white. Some kinda blue. Green.”

Maya reacted immediately, tiny fist stretching out, fingers grazing toward the muted green.

Joel huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? That your favorite?”

Her fingers brushed the side of the can, fascinated by the cool metal, a quiet coo slipping from her lips.

Joel hesitated for a second, then gave in. He really couldn't help himself. At that moment, he just had to. Slowly, carefully, he shifted her closer, lowering his head and pressing a kiss to the soft crown of her unsteady little head.

She smelled faint and sweet as always, like baby powder and fresh linens, and he let himself linger for a second longer than he should have, feeling the heat of her through his shirt, the tiny weight of her against his chest.

Maya wiggled in response, not in protest, but excitement, legs kicking slightly.

Joel exhaled, something breaking loose inside him.

Before he could stop himself, he pressed another kiss to the side of her head, then another and another, half a laugh escaping him when she wriggled in delight, her little fists stretching open, her eyes squeezing shut like she could feel the warmth of it sinking in.

Maybe she could. Maybe she knew, in that small, primal way babies knew things, that Joel was someone safe. That he wouldn’t let her fall. That he really fucking loved her.

A rustle at the doorway made him glance up from a kiss. Leela stood there, her hand lightly braced against the frame, watching him.

Joel was caught off guard, leaning away from Maya a bit, settling her lower against his chest. “Hey,” he greeted, voice low. “Just givin’ her the lay of the land.”

Leela’s expression didn’t change. She only flashed a tight, fleeting smile before stepping forward, arms extending toward Maya. “You wanna take a bath with mama?”

Maya twisted in his hold, cooing eagerly now, little hands reaching for her mother. Even after everything, her mother was still her favourite person.

Joel let her go, careful as he passed her over to Leela. Their hands brushed, warm skin against warm skin, and he ignored the way it lingered, how her fingers barely curled in his before she took Maya into her arms.

“She’s been good,” Joel muttered.

Leela nodded, running a gentle palm over Maya’s back. “There’s lunch downstairs if you’re hungry.”

Joel studied her for a beat, his fingers brushing idly against his tool belt. “…Did you eat something?”

She hesitated. Too long. Then nodded, slow.

He didn’t call her on the lie. Instead, he nodded back, watching as she turned on her heel, shifting Maya closer against her shoulder. She left him with another tight, fleeting smile before disappearing down the hall.

Joel breathed out a sigh, glancing back at the half-finished room. Maya’s soft, content coos still lingered in the air. The green paint sat on the shelf, waiting.

And for some damn reason, he felt lonelier than he had in a long, long time.

It had taken him eleven days. Too long for a man like him. But he hadn’t rushed at all. He should’ve, but he didn’t. Had he been the same old Joel—good ol’ Texas Joel—this would’ve been a job done in a heartbeat. A blink, and he’d be out of her way. He wouldn’t have noticed things. Wouldn’t have lingered like a moron.

Maybe it was because of the way Leela barely spoke to him anymore. Or that she wouldn’t look him in the eye when she checked on his progress in clipped words and hums, wouldn’t even glance his way when she passed Maya to him like clockwork, a silent, wordless thing between them.

Maybe because when she leaves him standing at the porch at the end of the day, the door closing shut in his face, it didn’t feel like closing a chapter. It felt like a fucking wall going up.

Joel found her in the kitchen that evening, standing by the counter, wrist-deep in soapy water. It was late, Maya was snoozing her little head off upstairs, the house dim except for the overhead light humming low above them.

She didn’t stagger when he entered, didn’t look at him either. Just kept scrubbing the hell out of a plate, though he was pretty sure it was already clean. He dawdled near the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing.

He should’ve left. Should’ve let the silence settle. But he couldn't just leave it alone.

Instead, he cleared his throat and stepped forward, leaning a hip against the counter. “Y’know, you got a dishwasher. It's half the effort,” he pointed out.

Leela gave a small huff. “Electricity’s scarce.”

Joel snorted. “So is water, darlin’.”

She finally glanced at him, just a flicker, then back to the sink.

He tapped his fingers against the counter, searching for something—anything—to keep her in this moment with him. “Made good progress today,” he said. “Maya... she tried to turn on her side. The nursery; well, I just need to fix up that dresser and—”

“Look, thank you. But I’m really tired, Joel.”

She said it without looking at him, her voice level, no bite to it. Just a statement. A locked door. He should’ve expected it, should’ve shrugged it off and moved on. Instead, something about the words, directed at him, sat wrong inside him. All that hurt-people-hurt-people-drivel that Maria used to say came back to bite him in the ass.

He hesitated, shifting his weight onto his feet. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I should get going.”

She said nothing. Just shut off the faucet, dried her hands on a towel, and walked past him, close enough that the damp heat of her skin lingered for half a second longer than it should have. And despite fighting the urge to glance back at her as she left the room, he watched her disappear down the hall.

Joel stood outside her door for a long moment, which he had conscientiously locked, staring at the chipped paint of the doorframe, jaw clenching. His eyes flicked to the porch swing. It swayed slightly in the cold breeze.

Was it juvenile to think maybe she’d prefer his company? Was it fucking brainless of him to crave somewhere to belong? A purpose? Was he meant to die alone in a strange house and surrounded by empty whiskey bottles? Maybe. Probably. But hell if he didn’t wish it anyway.

Joel didn’t want to admit it—not directly, not even to himself—but he wanted to talk to her. Not about anything in particular. Not about that night in the Maranello, or how her little, breathy laugh was possibly the best thing to hear after those roars and clicks of the world beyond, or why she’d started looking at him instead of through him.

He just wanted something. Because before, there had been something. It wasn’t like talking to most people, where you had to pick your words apart before they even left your mouth, where you had to navigate bullshit small talk or forced pleasantries. With Leela, it had been... easy. Unspoken. A warm kind of quiet, the kind where he didn’t have to think too much, where he could just be.

He'll admit it, just this once—he liked that about her. He liked that a moment didn’t have to be forced. That he didn’t have to overthink, that they had a rhythm, a delicate system between them, one that made sense even if neither of them ever put words to it.

But now?

Now, she barely looked at him. Nowadays, when she passed Maya to him, it wasn’t with that quiet, knowing ease or a friendly grin, no matter how tired it had been—it was mechanical, transactional, like handing over a set of keys. Like a reminder that he wasn’t supposed to be here, and he didn’t know what to call that. Didn’t like the way it made his instincts turn over, uneasy, in his chest.

All that lingering had finally paid off, and Joel had found his way in. He wasn’t going to show it, of course—wasn’t gonna give himself away like some fool—but damn if he wasn’t relieved.

After days of unending cold shoulders, after all that stiff distance, this was the first real opening he’d gotten. An excuse. A way to talk to her without forcing it.

He had been fixing a flickering wall lamp that had been bugging him for some time now, in the second-floor hallway, standing on a step stool when��

CRASH.

The whole house plunged into darkness. The light he’d been working on blinked out, along with the rest of them, and then—a groan. A pained, breathy, hitched groan from below. His entire body tensed before his brain caught up.

Then came the wailing. Maya.

Joel’s heart stammered, caught between two instincts. The damn near gutting sound of the baby girl's frightened cries and that groan—that voice—he'd distinctly heard from the basement.

Fuck. His feet moved before his mind did. He leapt off the stool, tools cluttering to the floor, ignoring the protesting ache in his knees as he tore down the hall to Maya’s room. She was red-faced, eyes squeezed shut, fists curled as she screamed, trembling from the shock.

"Hey, hey, Maya," Joel hushed, scooping her up into his arms, and pulling her against his chest. "S'okay, sweetheart. I got you. I got you."

He shushed her, palm stroking warm circles over her back, bouncing her lightly in his arms. His heartbeat was loud, hammering in his ears, drowning everything out but the damn groan still hanging in his mind.

Leela.

She was down there, in that cursed basement, alone. And that sound had been awful.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, pressing his lips to Maya’s head before pulling back. More for himself rather than her.

“I'm right here, baby. Nothin’ to be scared of.” His voice was steady—measured—but his hands weren’t. His grip on her was a little too tight. They trembled a little.

Maya sniffled, her cries quieting just enough to slow his pulse, and he took that as his chance. Keeping her tucked to his chest, he made his way down the stairs, near flying, boots thudding against the wood.

His breath hitched as he reached the basement door. “Hey, you down here?” he called, shoving it open with his shoulder, jogging down to the dim space below.

Then he saw her.

Leela was slumped against the wall, obvious that she had been tossed into it, her silhouette barely lit by the glare of an emergency lamp in the corner. She was gripping her shoulder fiercely, rubbing it like she was trying to erase the pain. Her fingers dug in hard.

The remnants of her little "science project" upgrade lay scattered around her. Loose wires, metal scraps, a circuit board still humming with life. The main plug socket was connected. Was she fucking stupid? There was a baby upstairs, and she was ready to risk her home for that dumbass machine.

And her face—Fuck. She had gone pale. Eyes squeezed shut. Her chest rose and fell like she was working through an intense wave of pain.

“Christ.” The word came out more like a breath than anything. Joel took a step forward, but when his eyes landed on the tangled wires, something burned under his ribs.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” His voice came out rougher than intended, fear clawing at his throat, disguising itself as frustration.

Leela’s eyes fluttered open, hazy but sharp. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine.” She held up a hand to stop him before he could kneel down beside her. “Just a bit of bruising. Maya first.”

Joel clenched his jaw.

She was right. Damn it, he hated that she was right. Maya, now hiccupping soft little breaths against his chest, was the priority.

“Right,” he muttered, though the reluctance in his voice was clear. He cast her one last look, making sure she was still upright, still breathing normal, before turning back up the stairs.

It took ten whole minutes to get Maya settled, and that was a miracle in itself. He'd resorted to pleading under his breath, but she had continued to watch him, eyes wide, refusing to let sleep take her like she knew something was wrong. She was perceptive. Just like her mother.

Finally, finally, her little lashes fluttered shut, her tiny hand still gripping onto his shirt.

Joel exhaled, relief going awash his tension. “Good girl,” he murmured, before unfurling her fingers from his collar, brushing a kiss over them and laying her back down.

Then he was sprinting again. Back down the stairs, faster than he should have been, hand gripping the railing tight.

Leela hadn’t moved much. She was still slumped against the basement wall, her breaths deep and restrained—like she was trying to breathe the pain away.

Joel came down to a crouch by her feet. “Hey.”

“I'm fine, Joel, really,” she assured quietly.

Though, he could tell she was pissed at herself. She hated being like this—vulnerable, hurting, unable to brush it off and acting like it didn’t happen. But Joel saw it. He saw her. How she'd tilted her head against the wall, eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling.

Leela truly was fine. Bruised, rattled—but fine.

Joel had checked her over once more, ensuring nothing was broken, no serious harm done, and he had to force himself to believe her when she said she’d be okay.

But her hands. Oh, Christ. The dim glow of the emergency lamp cast a dull shine over her skin, and that’s when he noticed—the raw, reddened patches along her fingertips. The unmistakable burn marks where the electricity must’ve bit into her.

"Shit." He exhaled sharply through his nose, scraping a hand down his beard as he stared at her fingers.

She must’ve seen the look on his face because she tucked her hands close to her stomach like she could make them disappear. “Seriously,” she murmured, voice hoarse. “I’ve had worse.”

Joel’s jaw ticked. She wasn’t wrong. And that made something in him burn even hotter.

“C’mon,” he muttered, nodding toward the stairs. “Up.”

Leela hesitated, but the way he stood—the way he waited—made it clear he wasn’t asking. So she sighed and pushed herself upright, and Joel stayed close, arms extended safely around her, watching the way she moved, the way her body reacted.

She didn’t stumble. Didn’t wobble. That was good. No concussion or broken bones. A knot in his chest loosened instantly.

Once they made it back upstairs, Joel had her sit at the kitchen table, lit up from the sunshine filtering through from the afternoon sun. He set a bowl of warm water down in front of her, the steam curling into the space between them. He grabbed a small tin of ointment after a bit of rustling through the cabinets, then a roll of gauze, then paused, eyes flicking to her.

She was watching him. Still. Silent. Waiting.

Joel breathed out, slow and even, then came back over, pulling a chair beside her. He reached for her wrist, gently, carefully, lifting her hands into his own. A silent ask. Permission. Lesson learned from the last time he'd touched her.

Leela tensed for half a second before sighing, letting him take them.

She was trying to play it off like it didn’t hurt. Like it was fine. But as soon as he dipped her fingertips into the warm water, she sucked in a quiet breath through her teeth.

Joel’s grip tightened just a little. He tried to squeeze everything he had felt these past few days into a single word—“Sorry.”

He worked, taking it slow, gently swiping away the dust and grime, watching the way her skin flinched under the heat. His thumbs moved gradually, steadily, like he was afraid to make it worse.

“Y’gotta be more careful,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “Damn wires ain’t worth all this. Remember, you’ve got someone countin’ on you.”

Leela let out a soft, tired laugh. “I didn’t know I had a nanny now.”

Joel shot her a look. “You don’t. You got me.”

She blinked at that.

Her lips parted slightly, but whatever she was about to say, she thought better of it. Instead, she let him work, let him take care of her, and trusted his instincts, and that felt like something neither of them was ready to acknowledge just yet.

Once her hands were cleaned, he dried them carefully, mindful of the more sensitive spots, before smoothing ointment over each burnt fingertip.

Leela twitched. “Ow.”

Joel grunted. “Ain’t gonna feel good, but it’ll keep it from blisterin’ too bad.”

He finished wrapping the gauze around her fingers, slow and precise, making sure they weren’t too tight. Leela stared down at her hands when he was done, flexing her fingers slightly, testing the bandages like she wasn’t sure what to make of them. Three fingers on each hand.

Joel blew out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face as he took in the house.

It was quiet. Too damn quiet. God, he hated this. That unnatural kind, where something had been cut short too suddenly—like the whole place had been stunned into silence. The shot-out lights overhead blinked weakly before finally dying out for good, leaving nothing but the cold creeping in from every corner.

It was already setting in. The draft slithered through the cracks in the windows, curling around his ankles, and sinking into the wood beneath his feet. The thermostat had shut off along with the rest of the power, which meant no heat. Not with how damn cold it got out here. Jesus, he'd forgotten to tuck some extra layers around Maya.

His eyes swept the room. A busted power grid. A rattled woman nursing bruises. A two-month-old baby upstairs who didn’t know a damn thing about survival, who didn’t understand that warmth wasn’t something she could just take for granted.

And this woman—this stubborn, frustrating woman—was already trying to stand up like she hadn’t just been thrown into a wall.

"I'll go check it out. Don't worry, Joel, I know what to do," Leela offered, pushing herself up.

Joel shot out a hand, firm, stopping her before she could get any further.

"You ain't fixin’ shit, you hear me?" His voice came out rougher than he intended, but hell if he cared. "Sit your damn ass down. You're stayin' at my place till I get this sorted."

The prospect did not sit well with her. He could see it in the way her jaw clenched, her eyes flicking to the window like she was already searching for another solution.

She shook her head. "I can't—"

"That's not an option."

She looked at him then, her brows drawing together. And he knew what she saw—knew she saw that hard-set determination in his face, the part of him that had already made up his mind.

What she didn’t see—what he’d never let her see—was the way his chest was burning with something too tight, too damn close to fear.

Because he’d walked into cold houses before. Knew what happened when the temperature dropped too low. Had seen bodies frozen stiff in the middle of the night, curled up as if that had been enough to keep them warm. Had seen what happened when people thought they could tough it out. He'd rather never see or smell that ever again.

Now, Leela thought she could tough it out. But he wasn’t about to let her gamble with a baby’s warmth just to prove a damn point. And if she thought this was some kind of negotiation, she was dead wrong. Because he wasn’t giving her a choice.

He exhaled slowly, grounding himself, softening the edges just enough so he wasn’t barking orders at her like some kind of drill sergeant.

“Just for a while,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Till I can fix whatever the hell you fucked up down there.”

Leela didn’t answer right away, lips pressing into a thin line. But she wasn’t stupid.

She glanced up toward the stairs, toward where Maya was still sleeping. Then back at him. Joel could see the exact moment she gave in. Her shoulders slumped as she relented.

He nodded, standing up, already running through what needed to be done. “Good. I'll go bundle up the kid.”

Joel hasn't exactly planned to have company. Ever.

Maria and Tommy showed up sometimes. Ellie, too—though not without complaint. She claimed the place smelled like old people and swore visiting would tank her cool factor. But even when they came around, he never let them stay too long. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen, before he was ushering them out the door with a gruff, Alright, get on, and some excuse about needing to be up early. It wasn’t that he didn’t like having people around. It was just—his place wasn’t made for that. He hadn’t made it for that.

It was single floor, nice and compact. He slept on the pullout couch in the living room. Not because he didn’t have that one really sweet bedroom, but because it was easier nowadays—closer to the door, closer to the window that faced the big white house across the street. His sink was a mess of dishes from last night, crusted over and rotting in the stale air. His cabinets weren’t stocked with food so much as they were with whiskey and coffee.

He came home. He ate. He slept. He woke up. Showered. Left. That was it. That was his life. It was enough and to spare.

So when Leela and Maya showed up at his front door, he wasn’t prepared. Not in the slightest.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, stepping aside to let her in. “Come on, then.”

Leela ducked inside first, shaking the cold from her coat, eyes flicking around the place as if she were already judging him for it. And maybe she was. Hell, Joel sure as shit would. Because this—this eyesore—was how she was gonna see him. As some tired, deadbeat old man who hadn’t even tried.

Maya stirred against her chest, her little hands fisting in the collar of Leela’s coat.

Joel cleared his throat and reached for her automatically. He needed his calm here. “C’mere, baby girl.”

She squealed at the sound of his voice, squirming, her small fingers flexing, gripping the fabric of his flannel before she finally settled against him, warm and soft. Joel let out a quiet breath through his nose, a strange kind of tightness unwinding from his ribs. He hadn’t even realized he’d been bracing for something.

“She can stay with me,” Leela said softly, slipping out of her coat.

Joel shook his head. “Nah, you get some rest. You’re takin’ the room down the hall.”

Leela blinked, surprised. “And you?”

Joel busied himself with Maya, playing catch and release with her tiny fists, letting her grab onto his finger before slipping it away. “I’ll be fine. Got the couch.”

She frowned. “But you’ve got that bad back.”

Joel sighed, jaw twitching. “Yes, ma'am. Thanks for noticin’.”

Leela’s mouth quirked slightly, just a little, but enough that it softened something in her expression. “You should take the bed, Joel.”

He hummed, shaking his head, shifting Maya a little higher against his chest. “You just shot into a wall and burned yourself, darlin’. I think you’re entitled to a bed.”

She tilted her head at him, her brow pinching together like she was trying to figure something out.

Joel stared back, more stubborn than apprehensive, his grip tightening just a fraction around Maya’s small body.

He wasn’t sure what it was, that look of hers. But damn if it didn’t make him feel like he was seen in a way he wasn’t used to. Like she was really looking at him—not the grumpy bastard everyone in Jackson thought he was, not the fixer, not the old guy sleeping his way through life—but him.

Joel shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. “Look, you’re takin’ the bed, that’s that. Maya can sleep next to you, so she’ll be closer.”

Leela was still staring at him, quiet for a long beat.

Then eventually she sighed. “Okay.”

It wasn’t much, but it felt like that little something Joel had wanted. Like an inch of the cold between them had finally cracked, let some warmth in.

Look, of course, Joel had always known his house was too damn small. He just hadn’t felt it until now.

There was no privacy to be had, not really. The pullout couch in the living room faced the bedroom door, left cracked open just enough for him to see the gentle rise and fall of Maya’s little body curled against where Leela would sleep later. The bathroom was the only one in the house, meaning if she needed it in the middle of the night, she’d have to walk past him to get there.

Not much space. Not much distance.

So when he heard the soft shuffle of her feet against the wood floor, he wasn’t surprised. He didn’t even have to look up from the guitar in his hands to know she’d wandered further inside, drawn toward the small corner of the living room where he kept his workspace.

It was a cramped setup—a shabby studio table shoved against the wall, two half-finished guitars resting on stands nearby. He’d only just started working on them, but it gave his hands something to do, something to create.

Leela’s fingers grazed over the unfinished wood, her touch featherlight. “I didn’t know you were this talented. A luthier.”

Joel chuckled, leaning back against the wall. “Layin’ it on a bit thick.”

She ignored him, curiosity guiding her hands as she thumbed over the strings. A quiet hum vibrated through the air, not a real note, just a sound. She tilted her head, listening.

“Would you make one for me when you have time to spare?” she asked, glancing up. “I’d love to learn.”

Joel almost laughed, because—yeah. Yeah, he’d drop dead before refusing that. “‘Course,” he said, voice low but certain.

Leela’s eyes found it too easily, drawn in like a moth to an old light. He almost wished he'd hid it away.

The picture that had survived time and death, sat on the corner shelf, tucked between a coil of guitar strings and a worn-out rag, the frame dull with dust he never bothered to wipe away. The glass was cracked, a thin vein running through the top left corner, but it didn’t matter. The image was still there. She was still there.

Sarah, grinning wide, her curls bouncing as she leaned into him, arms slung around his shoulders. Joel remembered that day. He’d taken her out to some shitty little carnival on the edge of town, and let her sucker him into one of those rigged ring toss games. She’d won a stuffed bear—cheated, more like, because the booth worker had taken pity on her—and held onto it the whole night like it was the greatest thing in the world.

She looked happy. They looked happy.

And it hit him—like it always did, like it always would—how long it had been since he’d last heard her voice. Since she’d called him 'Dad!' in that exasperated, teasing way of hers. Since she’d looked at him like he was the safest place she’d ever known.

Leela didn’t say anything. She didn’t even reach for it, didn’t let her gaze linger too long. Just acknowledged it, felt it, then moved past it, like she understood that some ghosts weren’t meant to be disturbed. Let them rest.

Joel swallowed. It wasn’t often that someone gave him that kind of space—left his past untouched, let him sit with it without trying to crack it open.

She leaned back against the edge of the desk, brushing her fingers through her hair again—one of those little habits of hers, nervous and absentminded. The strands were overgrown, frayed at the ends, and he knew she probably didn’t have the time to fix it, or maybe just didn’t care enough to. He should tell Maria to give her a trim.

But, she wasn’t wearing that pearl-buttoned nightdress tonight. This one was blue. Smooth. Loose-fitting. The frilled sleeves barely touched her shoulders, and it wasn’t anything special, not really, but—he liked it. That colour looked pretty on her skin.

The thought settled in his chest like an itch he didn’t know how to scratch.

Leela watched her fingers trail absently over the wood grain of the desk. “I owe you an apology, Joel,” she murmured, her voice quieter now.

Joel listened and didn’t speak, just let the words settle between them.

“For how I’ve been treating you.” She swallowed, gaze flicking up to him, uncertain but steady. “You’ve only ever helped me, and you're so good with Maya. I know it wasn’t fair of me to just… shut you out.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

But she wasn’t convinced. She hesitated, jaw tensing, lips parting slightly before pressing shut again. There was something she wanted to say like it was dislodged deep, festering, in her chest.

“That night in the car…” She took a breath like it might help balance her. It didn’t. “It wasn't you. I had—before Maya, I was—there was—”

Joel knew that look. The way her throat bobbed, her fingers curling against the desk like she needed something solid to hold onto. Holding herself together. He didn’t let her unravel, just not tonight.

“Stop,” he said, gentle but firm. “You don’t have to explain.”

Leela blinked at him, studying his face, like she was trying to decide if he meant it. So he shrugged, forcing a small, easy grin.

“Perks of havin’ me around. I don’t care for the details.”

A small breath of laughter escaped her. Real, unguarded, softening the edges of her face. He loved to see it on her. “That's a relief.”

Joel leaned forward, rubbing his palm over his knee, the dull ache settling in from the long day.

His voice was lower when he spoke. “It’s just nice to be there, y’know?” He wasn’t good at this—saying shit like this—but it began to get easier with her. “With Maya. And you. There's more purpose than just shooting things beyond the fence.”

Something flickered across Leela’s face.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the desk, and her knuckles paled with how tightly she gripped it. “You’re welcome home anytime, Joel. My door’s always open for you.”

Joel’s chest pulled tight.

He looked at her. And he thought about that damn oak door, how she never locked it, how he’d always given her hell for it in his head. And how, for the first time, it didn’t feel like carelessness.

It felt like trust. Not in this boring town of survivors. But in the neighbour across the street who'd ferreted his way into their lives.

Leela took a slow breath, glancing down before meeting his eyes again. “So, you don’t have to come around just to fix things next time.”

Her voice was softer now. And then—something else. A small, almost shy laugh slipped past her lips, barely there, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say this next part out loud.

“Come to eat. To talk. To see Maya.” A beat. “And me.”

Joel felt it then—the shift. It wasn’t big, wasn’t some grand, earth-shaking thing. But it was there. He felt it.

"Maya loves you so much."

Joel glanced at her, unable to hold back the sympathy. He should’ve just let it sit. Should’ve just nodded, grunted something, and let the conversation move on. But instead, he said, low, “That bothering you?”

Leela hesitated, but only for a second. Then she sighed, rubbing a hand over her neck. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe.”

Joel stayed quiet, watching her.

She let out a quiet, humourless laugh. “It’s just... I don’t feel like her mother. Not really.” Her voice was even, but he could hear the strain underneath, the sharp edge of something she didn’t want to say aloud. “I do everything I’m supposed to. Feed her. Hold her. Change her. But it’s just... a list to get through.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “I thought it would be different. I know it's such an awful thing to say.”

Joel felt that like a punch to the gut. He knew what she meant. Knew how goddamn isolating it could be—to go through the motions, do the right thing, and still feel like you’re on the outside looking in.

“She’s yours, darlin',” he said after a moment. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing—at making sense of feelings, at giving comfort. He was trying. “That’s what matters. Sometimes it's not a magic switch, you can't just flip it on and feel it. Sometimes, you grow to love someone. Over time, energy, effort.”

Leela scoffed, quiet, barely there. “That all it takes?”

“No,” Joel admitted. “But it’s good enough.”

She finally looked at him then, something cautious in her expression, something raw. He didn’t push. Didn’t try to say anything else. Just let the silence stretch, easy and open, not asking for more than she was willing to give.

Leela swallowed, nodding slightly, like she was tucking the words away, considering them.

The space between them, once weighed down by hesitation, by careful sidesteps and unspoken rules, felt… lighter. Like the tension that had settled into the cracks between their words was finally easing, letting some warmth slip through.

And that? That did something to him.

His throat worked around something unspoken, and he rolled his shoulders back, shifting from feet to feet, like he could physically shake whatever the hell was loose inside him. The words that wanted to come didn’t.

Instead, he settled on something simpler. Something safer.

“You should get some rest.”

Leela’s gaze lingered, searching, like she was trying to read something in his face. Then she nodded, flashing a grin. “Sure,” she murmured. “Goodnight, Joel.”

Joel held her gaze for a moment longer. His fingers flexed at his sides, a familiar itch settling in his chest, the kind that always came when he stood in doorways when someone was walking away and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to follow or stay put.

He watched her retreat into the room, disappear behind the cracked door, and stand there for a moment before finally turning away.

The door was open again. And that was the thing about doors.

They worked both ways.

While on the road, Joel had spent years sleeping in places that barely counted as beds. Hard ground. Rusted truck seats. Creaking, sagging mattresses in abandoned buildings where one wrong turn meant waking up dead. Even now, safe inside these walls, inside this town where people thought fences and routine were enough to keep the bad out, behind homes with locked doors—well, should have locked doors—he never truly slept deep.

Always on alert. Always half-ready. Even in the comfort of a home he could call his.

Joel lay on the couch, stiff as the thing itself, staring into the rough fabric. He wasn’t asleep—he never really was—but he kept his back turned anyway. It felt like the right thing to do, a courtesy or some form of privacy in a house too damn small to actually have any.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that. Long enough for the warmth of the fire to ebb. Long enough to hear the wind pick up outside, rattling at the windows. Long enough to wonder if Leela had finally managed to fall asleep.

He exhaled through his nose and, without really thinking about it, rolled over onto his side, eyes shifting toward the bedroom.

Leela was out cold.

Her hair had been pulled back into a loose braid, but strands had escaped, curling softly against her cheek. One hand dangled into the mattress as if she’d fallen asleep patting Maya and never quite finished. He could see the slow rise and fall of her chest, deep and steady, her body given over to exhaustion.

Joel frowned as his eyes drifted lower. The blanket had slipped, barely covering her waist, her legs left bare to the chill of the night. One knee peeked out, the curve of it catching the dim, murky light of the bedside lamp. He felt his jaw tighten, his fingers flexing at his side. Wasn’t she cold?

But then his eyes landed on the baby in front of her, and the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding eased right out of him.

Maya was not asleep. Flat on her back, legs kicking sharp, barbed movements, her tiny fingers flexing in the air, opening and closing like she was trying to grab something invisible. Every so often, she let out a soft little coo, her breath light, testing, careful not to wake her mother.

Joel squinted. Lifted his head a little. Maybe she was just shifting in her sleep.

Nope, the kid was fully awake. Big, round eyes blinking up at the ceiling, mouth open in a little round ‘o’ of discovery, her hands reaching for her own damn feet, like she’d only just realized they were attached to her.

He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. He could just leave her be. She wasn’t crying. Wasn’t fussing. She'd fall asleep on her own.

But then she spotted him.

Her entire little body bucked, like the excitement was too much for her tiny limbs to contain. A bright, panting laugh bubbled from her mouth, and her hands curled, fists flailing like wanted to launch herself toward her.

Joel sighed. That was it. No walking away now.

Ignoring the slow, persistent cramp in his back, he shifted, pressing his hands into the pullout and pushing himself upright. His knees popped when he stood, and he winced, rolling his shoulders as he made his way into the bedroom. The floor groaned under his feet, but Leela didn’t stir. She was too far gone, too lost to the bruises and the exhaustion pressing her under.

Maya, on the other hand—beamed up at him, wiggling harder, completely unbothered by the late hour, her tiny hands batting at the air.

Joel sighed through his nose and crouched down beside the bed. He held up a finger to his lips. “Ssh, ssh,” he murmured like she had any damn understanding of the concept.

Her fists continued to flail, little feet kicking the air, and he sighed, leaning down to scoop her up. She fit into his arms easily, the way she always did—small and naming the nook to herself, all warm skin and bundled sleepiness. Sleep fired right out of his system.

“You're gonna wake your poor mama,” he whispered to her.

Shifting Maya against his chest, he glanced at Leela again. She hadn’t moved a muscle, fast asleep. But the blanket had slipped low, barely covering her waist, her arms left uncovered to the cold.

Joel hesitated for only a second before leaning over, taking the edge of the comforter and tucking it around her, careful not to wake her. The fabric pooled at her shoulder, and she sighed quietly in her sleep, sinking into the warmth of the bed, but not waking.

Good. She was finally catching up on sleep. When was the last time he'd seen that girl rest? Never. She'd always woken up the earliest, wandering between her papers and blackboards in the living room.

Maya let out a content little hum against his shoulder, and Joel blew out a breath, stepping back out of the bedroom and into the dimly lit living room. He wasn’t going to bother putting her back on the bed. She was too awake for that.

Instead, he plunged back onto the couch, settling into the cushions and adjusting her against his chest. She curled into him easily, her featherlight weight pressing against his ribs. She hummed again, a soft, breathy little thing, and then—one of her fists landed against his sternum with a dull thump.

Joel huffed, peering down at her. “You tryin’ to knock the wind outta me, trouble?”

Maya lifted her head to blink up again, dark eyes round and glassy in the dim light, looking like she had something important to say. Then her fist lifted again, this time smacking more of a lazy pat than anything with real intent.

He narrowed a playful glare on her, shifting her a little higher against him. He poked at her cheek. “We got some problems, or is this just your way of lettin’ me know you’re still awake?”

She didn’t answer—fucking obviously—but she did something close to it. Her mouth rounded in a small, exaggerated ooh, and her fingers fumbled against his shirt before one of them caught onto his.

Joel felt the soft, clumsy pull of her grip, then the unmistakable wet warmth of her mouth closing around the tip of his finger.

He grimaced, but not in any real discomfort. “Great, there you go. You're lucky you're so beautiful.”

Maya suckled lazily, brows furrowing like she was concentrating really hard on the task, and Joel exhaled, letting her gnaw as much as she wanted.

Joel stared at the ceiling, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing slow, careful circles against her back.

She was a happier baby now. Not screaming. Not crying as much. Just there. Comfortable and safe.

He swallowed against the feeling mashing against his ribs. His jaw unclenched, let his head fall back against the couch, eyes slipping shut. And he let out the longest breath known to man.

It had been years—years since he’d felt this weight, this warmth, this need pressed against him. It was a different life, a different world, but somehow, it wasn’t. His body still knew this, still remembered the rhythm of it, the quiet intimacy of a baby trusting him enough to just be here, curled up against his chest, with no fear, no hesitation.

And goddamn him, but he loved it. Loved the small breaths puffing against his collarbone. Loved the way she looked up at him, slow and sleepy, tapping her tiny knuckles against him like she was checking to make sure he was still there. Loved that he didn't have to think about anything, not feel like the whole world was closing in.

Loved this.

He wasn’t thinking about the past. No, he wasn’t. But if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t admit it.

The sound of the front door unlocking jolted him.

Joel’s eyes snapped open, his entire body tensing for a fight as his hand instinctively curled around Maya’s small back, protective, ready. His other hand curled into a loose fist at his thigh.

The door eased open with a quiet creak, and a familiar silhouette stepped inside.

Ellie.

“Joel?” she whispered, peering at him in confusion.

Joel just stared at her. Not because she was here—she was always stopping by when she damn well pleased—but because for the first time in his life, he was the one who forgot to lock the damn door.

Maya shifted against his chest, making a soft noise, her tiny fingers still curled around his. Joel gave her a small, reassuring bounce as if she’d needed one.

Ellie, meanwhile, was still standing there, taking in the sight of him on the couch, a whole baby in his arms, and the bedroom door cracked open just enough to hint at the woman asleep inside. The pretty neighbour that had Joel all riled up.

Her eyebrows lifted and mouth twitched as she crossed her arms. “This isn’t a hostage situation, right? Am I an accomplice now?”

Joel sent her a flat look. “Whatever gave that away?”

Ellie then continued to stare at him and at Maya.

It was the kind of look Joel had gotten used to over the years, the one where she tried to figure out if she was hallucinating. Because she’d seen Joel Miller do a lot of things—wrangle Clickers, nurse a cold one, fix up a rifle—but sitting on his couch, cradling a whole-ass baby like that? It was a new one. Like unlocking a new character in a video game.

Her lips pressed together, eyes still flicking between him and the kid, and then—she snorted.

“Oh, man,” she whispered, shaking her head, a shit-eating grin spreading over her face. “I wish I had a camera to capture this gold.”

Joel sighed. “Alright, get on with it.”

Grinning, Ellie plopped herself down beside him, the whole couch shaking, immediately leaning in close to peer at Maya. Almost as if she was the first infant she'd seen in her life.

“Hi, baby,” she cooed, voice going all high-pitched and ridiculous. “Hiiii.”

Maya blinked at her, unmoving, her fists curled safely in her mouth, her tiny brows furrowing as if she were trying to figure out just who the hell this new person was.

Ellie wiggled a finger in front of her. “Here. Go on, grab it.”

Maya did not. She just kept staring, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, utterly mystified by the sudden intrusion.

Joel huffed. “Guess she ain’t impressed.”

“Guess she’s got taste, you dick,” Ellie shot back. Then, her face softened, a little smirk curling her lips. “She’s fucking adorable. Look at those eyes, damn.” Joel barely had time to process the warmth that spread through his chest before Ellie tacked on, “So, definitely not yours.”

His scoff came out before he could stop it. “Oh, real funny, kid.”

Ellie chuckled, finally settling back against the couch, still watching Maya like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “How come they’re here?”

Joel didn’t go into the details, never liked to. About Leela’s bruises, about how she’d been too damn stubborn for her own good, about how he’d practically had to drag her in here to sleep in his bed.

Instead, he just muttered, “Blackout. Gonna head back in the morning and check it out.”

Ellie hummed like she knew there was more to it but didn’t feel like prying.

For a while, they just sat there in silence, and Joel simply let himself watch. The room was dim, the fire in the hearth burned low, throwing flickering shadows across the worn wooden floors. The cold pressed against the windows, creeping in through the cracks, but in here, it was warm—quiet, steady. Both in him and around him.

Ellie leaned in closer, her breath puffing softly against Maya’s round little cheek as she wiggled her fingers in front of her face. “What about this? You like this?” she murmured, tapping her tiny nose, and making a series of stupid clicking sounds.

Maya blinked, floored by this, her wide eyes tracking Ellie’s every move like she was watching the most fascinating thing in the world.

It took another few moments, but then—finally—Maya’s tiny fingers reached out, wrapping shyly around Ellie’s outstretched one. Not tight, not possessive, just curious. Testing.

Joel felt that feeling again, twisting deep in his ribs, imperceptive and calm and unnameable. He could get used to that feeling. It plugged every scar, physical and mental, until his shoulders felt ten times lighter.

The kid he’d sort of raised, playing with the baby he was yet to.

And for the first time in a long time, that muddle just… settled. It was late, too late in life for this kind of thing. But hell, cut him some slack.

Joel exhaled slowly, staring into the last of the fire, watching as the embers pulsed and flickered, struggling to stay alive. His hand absently smoothed over Maya’s back, following the slow rise and fall of her breathing, feeling the tiny weight of her against his chest. She was still. Not fussing. Just there.

Ellie shifted beside him, stretching her legs out, resting her arms against her knees. She wasn’t in a hurry to fill the silence. She just sat there, watching him in that way of hers, like she saw more than she let on.

“So,” she finally said, voice casual. “How’re things between you and…?”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Just flicked her chin toward the bedroom.

Leela was still dead to the world, sunk into the kind of sleep that didn’t let you turn over, didn’t let you dream. Her hand had slipped out from beneath the blanket, fingers curled loosely against the mattress. He wondered how long it had been since she’d let herself rest like that, without one ear open for some threat, without her body coiled tight, waiting for the next hang-up.

Joel looked away. He shifted slightly, adjusting Maya, keeping his voice even. “There’s nothing between us.”

Ellie hummed like she wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, no shit.” She stretched her arms behind her head, smirking. “She’s way out of your league.”

Joel snorted, shaking his head. “No argument here.”

He didn’t need Ellie to tell him that. He was thickheaded, but he wasn't blind. Leela was… Leela. Stunning in that exotic way, compassionate as a human, insanely intelligent. And him? What was he exactly, a cut-throat? A fighter? A relentless fucking human who just refused to die? Twenty years ago, a woman like that wouldn’t have given him the time of day, much less a second glance. A girl like her, back in the world before, would’ve had a whole life ahead of her, a whole set of possibilities. Not this. Not him.

And maybe that’s how it should’ve been. Maybe that’s why this didn’t make any sense.

He tensed his grip on Maya and felt the way she instinctively burrowed against him, curling her little fingers into the fabric of his shirt. She cooed again, watching his mouth move to form words.

He could be something for her. If Leela wanted it, he could carve out a space in Maya's life, be her constant, be her safety net. Hell, be this baby girl's father. He would compromise in a blink. That was different. That was right.

But having Leela herself? That was something else entirely. That was dangerous. That was selfish. There were too many ways it could go wrong. Too many ways it would end badly.

Not because of him, or her, or anything either of them did—just because that was the way life went. He wasn’t made for this kind of thing anymore. Wasn’t built for it. He was too damn old, too set in his ways. And even if she—somehow—wanted this, wanted him, what then? How long until he fucked it up? How long until he lost it?

The way he always did.

He swallowed hard. “I’m too old for her,” he managed to mutter.

Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You're fucking kidding. The world ended. There is no standard. And you still care about what, an age gap? Brownie points? Jesus, Joel. You've been through too much to care.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. Just kept his gaze on the fire, jaw tight.

It wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about how it looked or what people would say. Hell, no one would care. He wouldn't care. They were past that kind of bullshit.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t still impossible.

Because Joel knew himself. He knew what it was like to want something real, to care about someone so much it hollowed you out from the inside. And he knew how fast it could all go to hell.

It was about the fact that she still had so much time. That she could still find someone real, someone better. That she deserved more than a haunted, greying man, who could barely sleep through the night, combing through his days, who lived waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

And she deserved better than a man too tired, too worn down by life, to give her more than what little he had left.

Ellie sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Y’know…” she started, then stopped.

Joel glanced at her, brow furrowing slightly.

She didn’t go on right away. Just drummed her fingers against her knee, staring into the fire, her face unreadable. For once, she wasn’t running her mouth, wasn’t making a joke to cut through whatever was settling between them. She was thinking. That alone put him on edge.

Finally, she said, “It’s different. These last few weeks. Even Tommy sees it.”

Joel frowned, not at the words themselves, but at the way she said them—slow, cautious, like she wasn’t just talking to him but trying to make sense of it for herself.

Ellie had always been good at reading him, sometimes better than he wanted. But this—this was different.

She flitted her gaze toward the bedroom, where Leela was still out cold, her body barely stirring under the blankets. Then to Maya, curled up against him, tiny fingers tangled in his shirt, her soft weight pressed into his chest. Finally, she looked back at him.

She didn’t spell it out. Didn’t need to.

Joel swallowed, shifting slightly where he sat, adjusting Maya’s weight in his arms. His hand smoothed down her back, more out of habit than anything else. He glanced toward the bedroom too, toward Leela, who hadn’t moved an inch. Yes, it was different.

But Ellie wasn’t done. She hesitated, rolling something over in her head before finally letting it out.

“It’s… good, y’know? You having this nice thing.” She waved a vague hand toward the baby, toward Leela. “You don't usually let yourself have nice things. Something that’s not just me.”

Joel’s breath caught.

Ellie had always been his reason for waking up in the morning, the one thing keeping him tethered to whatever life he had left. And she knew that. Knew it in the way she carried herself, in the way she fought with tooth and claw to prove she didn’t need him to keep her standing. That he had his own life. But now, sitting there, she wasn’t mocking, wasn’t teasing. She was just… saying it. And she was goddamn right.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just pushing forward because he had to, wasn’t just surviving out of habit. He wasn’t looking over his shoulder, waiting for the axe to fall.

He had something to come back to. Something steady. Something small and warm and his, even if he didn’t know what the hell to do with it yet.

He looked down at Maya, at her tiny, trusting weight in his arms, at the way she twitched slightly in her sleep, lips parting around a breath. His hand smoothed over her back again.

Ellie saw the moment it clicked. The way his face shifted, just slightly. She smirked, satisfied. And that her good work here was done.

Then, just like that, she clapped her hands on her knees and stood up. “Well,” she said, voice slipping back into that familiar teasing lilt, “guess I’ll let you get back to your hostage situation.”

Joel rolled his eyes, settling deeper into the couch as Maya nuzzled against his chest. The kid was out cold now, her little fist still tangled in his shirt.

Ellie was already heading for the door when she threw out in a whisper, “Oh—almost forgot. Maria asked me to tell you to bring your girl by the dam sometime this week.” She smirked, holding up air quotes. “Said she’d like ‘inventor insight.’”

His expression deadpanned. “Maria ain’t letting her go anywhere near machines.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Ooh-kay. Controlling much?”

Joel gave her a warning look. “Ellie.”

She dismissed him with a wave. “I’ll just tell her myself.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, already seeing how that would go. If Leela knew Maria was interested, she’d want to help. She’d go, eager to prove herself, eager to be useful. And then she’d get herself hurt again, pushing past whatever limits she had, just like she always did. That wasn’t happening.

“She’s stayin’ away,” he muttered. “She’ll go, then want to help. Overdo it. Get herself hurt or worse.” He gave Ellie a pointed look. “Better not.”

Ellie let out a sharp laugh, all evil intent. “And you’re telling me there’s nothing between you two?”

“Ellie,” he hissed, too fast, too sharp—just as Maya stirred slightly against his chest, her little face scrunching. He froze, holding his breath, waiting to see if she’d wake.

Ellie’s smirk was damn near insufferable.

“Denial,” she sang out, drawing out the word like it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day.

Joel sent her a flat look.

Ellie just wiggled her fingers in a wave and made for the door once more. “Night, old man.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone in the quiet house, the fire crackling low in the hearth. Joel exhaled slowly, his hand smoothing absently over Maya’s back again.

Denial. Maybe. He wasn't ruling it out yet.

{ taglist 🫶: @kaseynsfws , @prose-before-hoes , @kateg88 , @laliceee , @escaping-reality8 , @mystickittytaco , @penvisions , @elliaze , @eviispunk , @lola-lola-lola , @peepawispunk , @sarahhxx03 , @julielightwood , @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi , @arten1234 , @jhiddles03 , @everinlove , @nobodycanknoww , @ashleyfilm , @rainbowcosmicchaos , @i-howl-like-a-wolf-at-the-moon , @orcasoul , @nunya7394 , @noisynightmarepoetry , @picketniffler , @ameagrice , @mojaveghst , @dinomecanico , @guelyury , @staytrueblue , @queenb-42069 , @suzysface , @btskzfav , @ali-in-w0nderland , @ashhlsstuff , @devotedlypaleluminary , @sagexsenorita , @serenadingtigers , @yourgirlcin , @henrywintersgun , @jadagirl15 , @misshoneypaper , @lunnaisjustvibing , @enchantingchildkitten , @senhoritamayblog , @isla-finke-blog , @mojaveghst , @millercontracting , @tinawantstobeadoll , @funerals-with-cake , @txlady37 , @inasunlitroom , @clya4 , @callmebyyournick-name , @axshadows , @littlemissoblivious - thank you!! awwwww we're like a little family <3

And to those in the reblogs: thank you all so much, and I'd love to keep hearing more!!

@darknight3904 , @guiltyasdave , @letsgobarbs , @helskemes , @jodiswiftle , @tinawantstobeadoll , @bergamote-catsandbooks , @cheekychaos28 , @randofantfic , @justagalwhowrites , @emerald-evans , @amyispxnk , @corazondebeskar-reads , @wildemaven , @tuquoquebrute , @elli3williams , @bluemusickid }

484 notes · View notes

elliespassagerprincess · 2 months ago

Note

Can you do something with toxic Ellie where she sobs and cries when reader gets to her last straw literally having snot running down her nose sliding down the wall actually going through all the stages of grief, trying to justify her cheating, lying etc and tries to forcefully give reader a kiss and hug her telling reader she loves her so much 😣🤚🏼

Her Sweet girl - (ellie williams x reader)

Hi anon!! thanks for the request! This is lowkey based on how my ex and i ended lmao.... i hope you enjoy <33333

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

Warning: cheating and alot of angst

Summary: in which you had enough

authors note: so.... I'm back (idk for how long though)

masterlist

"Again? Really Ellie? Again?"

She sat in a corner, tears in her eyes.

Ellie looked rough, her hair messy, hickeys littered her chest.

"It was a mistake-" she choked out

"mistake? A fucking mistake?" You raised your voice.

Ellie flinched not being used to you being so aggressive.

You were a good girl. A very good girl. Sweet. Innocent. Naïve. The perfect victim for someone like Ellie.

Ellie grew up watching romance movies.

They were predictable, cringe at times and very unrealistic. She hated the happily ever after, she pulled her face every time the two main characters came together with a kiss.

She hated the happily ever after.

She hated the idea of being with someone forever. Forever sounded too long.

"Ellie you'll get a STD" Joel once told her as they sat for breakfast.

She let out a chuckle as she pour herself a glass of orange juice

"I'm just perfecting my skills"

"Els you're bringing home a girl almost every night. I'm concerned for you"

"Concerned? Because I'm getting laid?"

"That's not what I meant and you know that"

Ellie let out a sigh 'here we go again' she thought to herself.

"Joel please" she begged knowing where this conversation was going.

"you'll never find happiness like this. Do you think you'll find find a real connection with someone if you keep brining different people home"

"I know. I know, I'm still young Joel I have time"

You were sweet. The sweetest girl she's ever met. You were so loyal, caring.

When the two of you hooked up for the first time Ellie was surprised to see how polite you were. You asked her if she was having fun, you offered her water.

Ellie had one rule: never sleep with the same girl twice.

You were an exception.

You made her feel special, you made her feel loved. Ellie loved you and she never thought she would be capable of loving.

As much as she loved you, she could never stay loyal.

Ellie liked the thrill of meeting someone new, she liked the one night stands. She loved her double life.

You caught her one night.

In all honesty you don't even remember what happened. You walked into the room and your eyes landed on Ellie in between a girl's thighs.

You fell to your knees and tears left your eyes as you looked at the scene before you. The girl screamed, and she grabbed her clothes apologizing to you as she ran out.

Elle fell to her knees naked, apologizing as she held your hand gently.

You stared at the wall as tears left your eyes.

The silence felt like hours to Ellie.

You uttered the words: "it's ok, you made a mistake"

"Never again" she promised as she hugged you tightly as you cried into her shoulder.

She lied.

You caught her again a week later and she made the same promise.

Again and again and again.

You loved her so much. So much that it hurt you. You forgave her over and over again.

Someone who loved you wouldn't betray you like this, someone who wanted to spend the rest of her life with you wouldn't treat you like this.

This was your final straw.

You saw the girls underwear when you walked into your shared apartment.

When you opened the bedroom door, she was on top of Ellie and she was giggling.

She was fucking giggling.

You weren't sad. You were.. disgusted. You just stared at them and eventually they noticed you.

"Fucking talk Ellie" you demanded

Hearing her sweet girl talk like this, made Ellie's stomach turn.

"She seduced you, she forced you you were lonely? i didn't make you cum?... what's the fucking reason this time?"

Ellie opened her mouth but no words came out.

She didn't have a reason.

You stared at her 'wow she couldn't even explain it this time'

You were tired. Tired of being lied to, tired of being humiliated.

You walked to your closet and you started packing up your clothes. Ellie suddenly got up and ran towards you.

She grabbed your shoulders forcing you to look at her.

"baby please let's talk about this"

She brought you in for a awkward hug but you gently pulled away from her not saying a word.

You didn't cry, you didn't even react.

That scared Ellie.

The fact you weren't saying something scared her.

She tried grabbing your arm again but you pushed her.

"get the fuck off me"

Ellie dramatically fell against the wall, she slid down as she sobbed.

She was putting up and act, you knew she was.

She laid on the floor in a ball, sobbing loudly but you ignored her.

"if i ever lose you, I'd surely lose myself" she said as she sobbed into her arms. Her cries got louder and louder. She was desperately trying to get your attention.

She just wanted one reaction from you. She wanted- no - needed you to say something.

"You look like a fucking child" you laughed.

Ellie looked up at you through her tears.

You were laughing? What was so funny?

"So you think me crying is funny?" she asked in disbelief

"so you think cheating on me and crying will make me stay?"

She started sobbing again and you just rolled your eyes.

She looked like a toddler after their parent told them no.

She was a sight to behold. She eyes puffy and swollen, she was drooling, and snot was running out her nose. She looked dirty, desperate, pathetic.

She always had you crying like that, but the roles were reversed. You were in control now.

She needed you.

You made your way to the door and Ellie crawled behind you, like the dog she was.

You turned to look at her, and she started kissing your legs.

"baby please" she said through kisses.

"Let me explain"

"No"

She held your leg as she sobbed. You put down your bag and you forcefully pushed her off.

Ellie landed with a thud and she looked at you with wide eyes holding the side of her head (she probably hit her head, maybe she was being overdramatic maybe she was lying who know. She deserves it anyway)

You picked up your bag and walked to the front door.

Ellie suddenly got up and cleared her throat.

"You wouldn't dare leave me. i mean look at you, who would love you?" she said with a grin.

You knew the sobbing was an act. It was crazy how quickly she could change up.

You turn to look at her: "me? i'll find someone"

You look her up and down "you on the other hand, i don't know... i mean who would want to date someone that tasted everyone's pussy"

Her jaw dropped at your words.

"you wont leave me"

"watch me"

"You're unlovable" were the last words you muttered to her as you slammed the door shut.

She looked at the closed door in front of her.

You actually left. You actually had the guts to walk out.

Tears fell from Ellie's eyes. Real tears fell from her eyes.

She put her hand on her chest. Her heart hurts, her throat was closing up. she felt sick.

Is this what real heartbreak felt like?

you actually left her.

Her sweet girl left.

Ellie fell to her knees and she let out a loud sob. She ruined the only good thing in her life.

235 notes · View notes

bloodstainedsapphic · 4 months ago

Text

guitar teacher!ellie x smartass!reader thank you for all the meet-cute requests @thatdammchickennugget -- they are my absolute favorite and this one is a classic. i plopped a lot of my real life into this lmao. i kinda wanna do a spicy part 2 here. idk. we'll see!

you wait with bated breath inside the cramped, soundproof lesson room at your local music store, where you signed up on a whim to learn the guitar. it’s an impulse decision, really—all but doomed to be just another tick off the ever-expanding list of random cool skills you’ve tried. at the very least, you hope maybe you can whip this one out to “impress the ladies.” maybe even serenade them with some songs and actually sound good doing it—lord knows many have endured the clunky chords of a red hot chili peppers song from some mediocre man already.

you clutch your new guitar semi-awkwardly, plucking the strings and lightly tapping the cool basswood. you can tell that the tune is off, but damn if you know how to fix it. you wonder if you’ll abandon it after the first 40 minutes, just like most other hobbies you’ve sampled.

in your hasty decision-making, you hadn’t even requested a specific teacher. you’d only ever seen middle-aged men employed here, which is fine. you trust their experience, picturing some warm-hearted old rocker coming in and showing off his tried-and-true tricks. what you don’t expect, then, is when the door opens and a girl your age enters the room, extending her hand to shake yours.

“hi, my name is ellie. you’re the one here to learn guitar, right?”

you shake her hand, eyes glancing over her form, trying not to seem like a dumbfounded creep. jeez, she’s cute. she has reddish-brown hair in a choppy bob, freckled cheeks, green eyes, and a dorky smile. she’s adorned in a faded blue jacket rolled up to her elbows, revealing arm tattoos, and a ragged t-shirt with a band you’ve never heard of. and this is the cutie who will watch you fiddle with out-of-tune strings and act like a complete dumbass? you half hope the ground will swallow you whole.

“yeah,” you manage to reply once you remember how to speak. “that’s me. word of warning: i really don’t know what i’m doing, so i’m, like, a total beginner.”

ellie chuckles reassuringly, likely having heard that tired statement a million times over. she gently picks the guitar up from your lap, inspecting its quality. of course, in her hands, the instrument looks like it was made to be held by her. “hey, that’s fine. everyone starts somewhere, right?” she gets to tuning the strings as naturally as breathing.

“so, what’s got you interested in learning?” ellie suddenly asks, just to fill the dense silence of the room. your mouth runs dry, struggling with a response that doesn’t sound as idiotic as “i’m an obnoxious flirt.” she catches onto your fumbling, adding, “what? wanting to look like a badass guitar god, hm?”

“calling yourself a badass, then?” the tongue-in-cheek question escapes before you can rein it in. ellie pauses her tuning to look up at you, and your heart drops to your stomach. she’s going to kick you out, you reckon.

“i mean… you are staring at me with your mouth open. must be in awe of my guitarist badassery or something. i don’t mind,” ellie replies with a knowing, smug smile, then returns to helping your sorry ass tune up your guitar.

yep, you definitely need that hole in the ground right now.

after that rocky introduction, the lesson takes on a more professional atmosphere, with ellie explaining the basics. she teaches you about the body of the instrument, the strings, and some basic history—you name it, and she knows it. it’s clear that ellie is enthusiastic about the guitar, her interest rubbing off on you, which does not help your case with how cute you already find her.

you try your best to be a good student, which isn’t the energy you typically bring to all your other short-lived courses. there is something special about ellie’s passion—how her lips move as she speaks about it, how her eyes light up, her fingers curling against the strings while demonstrating songs—it compels your attention. you listen respectfully to the multitude of rambles she embarks on and cuts short whenever ellie realizes she has led you too astray from the basics.

at approximately the 38th minute of the 40-minute lesson, you realize that you haven’t attempted to actually play the damn thing. ellie must have come to the same realization, flashing a tilted smile, hoping you aren’t too annoyed that this instructional course devolved into a ted talk, a worry she couldn’t possibly be more wrong about.

ellie assists your clumsy self in positioning the guitar onto your lap, showing you how to hold it correctly. the closeness has your heart racing, and every touch sends shivers through you—you hope the internal gay panic doesn’t translate outwardly. ellie takes her time helping you press your fingers onto the correct strings and frets to play a simple “c chord.” her fingers guiding yours with such precision causes your thoughts to veer into thousands of inappropriate possibilities. the pose feels a tad contorted, your fingers placed in a way totally foreign to you, but her reassurance builds your confidence to try. she crouches before you, making final adjustments before her greens glance back up to you expectantly, waiting for you to try.

you strum the one chord—a passable sound that resonates throughout the guitar. it gets the job done but, of course, lacks the flow that ellie could have had. but ellie is proud, her genuine smile and silly applause flustering you.

you find yourself feeling more accomplished in this single instance than in the last three skills you’ve tried combined.

“good start, guitar god. i’ll show you another one—if you think you’ll stick to a second lesson,” ellie then suggests, an endearing smile on her face as she watches you absent-mindedly fiddle with the individual strings a bit more. an effective bargaining tactic for sure.

“yep, no problem.” easiest commitment you’ve ever made.

"hell yeah," ellie rejoices, reaching out one last time to high-five you. she looks delighted. just happy to have a new, consistent student, of course--that has to be it.

you sign up for another lesson after—and maybe another. and another.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams tlou2 #tlou2 #lesbian #wlw

238 notes · View notes

eufezco · 2 years ago

Text

you meet joel again after the outbreak and he finds out you have a daughter

seeing joel again after the outbreak was something you thought would never happen, but there he was, twenty years later, with almost completely gray hair and beard, and looking more tired than he used to. his brown eyes shone when he saw you, thinking that you were some sort of hallucination produced by tiredness, but your arms hugging his neck felt so tight and your head against his chest felt too real to be a creation of his mind.

he gulped nervously and took a few steps backward when you took the little girl in your arms as if he was scared of the little human. you had always been very good with children so he wasn't surprised that you were now taking care of them in jackson. because that's what it was, wasn't it? you were looking after someone's child, right?

"this- this is my daughter, joel." oh shit. your face expressed concern, waiting for a reaction from the man in front of you, but his eyes were locked on the child in your arms. he should have guessed. enough time passed, you were a grown woman and life was good in jackson, probably the best place on earth right now to start a family. he softly nodded his head, trying not to show how shocked he was. the baby was sucking on her finger, cooing and doing that stupid baby sounds like she was mocking him. "congrats" was all he could say.

he was waiting for you to introduce him to the father of your daughter, but you never did, it was as if you were torturing him slowly. maria wanted to put joel and ellie in the house across the street from hers and tommy's, but you offered them to stay with you.

"oh, that place has been untouched since the outbreak, i actually think only the heat works." you cut tommy off when he was saying that it was decent. joel was gonna decline your offer but ellie, who had been tickling your daughter's belly and playing with her tiny hands until that moment, was quicker than him on saying that they'd love to.

he hated to see that baby. joel hated her chubby cheeks and her small hands trying to reach for him every time he was near. he also hated tripping over her toys around the house and how she cutely laughed when ellie played with her. he hated seeing her wrapped in a towel like a burrito after her bath and he hated to see her cheeks and nose red from the cold weather, and how she stomped when she was wearing her big coat and fell on her ass in the snow.

"so, where's the dad?" ellie asked you with her mouth full of food. joel gave her a look that would have killed her and huffed. there was truly no way this kid was shutting the fuck up. "you don't have to -" "no, it's fine." you assured joel while making sure that your daughter was liking her food. you threw a glance at joel to see his reaction and he was looking at you with his face more relaxed than usual. his brow was not furrowed and his eyebrows were arched, trying not to show how interested he was in your answer but at the same time very annoyed because of ellie being so nosy. "he left." "shit- i'm sorry." you shook your head. "it was before she was born. it's better this way, you know? if he was gonna be a shitty dad, i prefer him not to be around." "hell yeah. fuck him." ellie said while nodding her head in agreement with what you were saying. joel threw another deadly glance at ellie after she cursed in front of you and your kid. " i bet you are the coolest mom, right joel?" ellie's words made you giggle but you were also waiting for joel's answer. it was easy for him to empathize with you since you were going through the same thing he went through with sarah. he found it very easy to be a single parent. sarah was the best kid and he had you and tommy to help him. but you were alone, you lived alone, you had to go to work, and you had to take care of your daughter. he clenched his jaw. "that's right."

when you showed them your house, ellie loved it. she lay down on your couch, she opened your fridge, she sat in front of the fireplace, she turned the lights on and off multiple times, checking that they were indeed working. joel told her to stop but you assured him that it was okay, you liked seeing the girl so excited over such small things.

joel on the other hand was static next to you while ellie played around. your daughter was looking at him with her head resting on your shoulder, and joel looked at her from time to time only to find that the baby was still staring at him.

you showed them the rest of the house. ellie had her own room, which was meant to be your daughter's future room but she could have it, and you would share your room with joel. but after seeing his face, you thought it might have been a better idea to offer him the guest room.

"we also have a guest room. there's no bed but there's a couch and the heat doesn't work there but if you want-" "oh no, old joel will be great here." ellie appeared behind him, giving a few pats on his shoulder. you smiled at the girl but waited for an answer from joel. he was trying so hard to ignore the crib next to your side of the bed and how the little girl was sitting in the middle of the mattress, playing with her stupid little toys and violently sucking on her pacifier. instead of that, he decided to remember all those nights sleeping with ellie either in the woods or in the car, and the way he could hardly move when he woke up the next day because his body ached so much. but joel also remembered how good it felt being your little spoon and waking up next to you. of course, he didn't expect things to be like they used to be, but probably sleeping next to you was the only thing he had left of what once was his home. "this is okay." "great! and it's not as if we haven't slept together before, so..." you added trying to downplay the issue. "woow." ellie was so interested in this. "how is that?" "no-" "we were neighbors, and sometimes we-" "enough."

you knew why joel was so distant with your daughter. meanwhile, ellie loved to be around her, joel tried as hard as he could to keep his distance. you lived next to them and in the afternoons you helped sarah with her homework. you stayed with them for dinner and then enjoyed a movie or played some board games with them. the night the outbreak started, joel knocked on your door and told you to go inside his truck immediately. you were familiar with the relationship joel had with his daughter and you knew what a shock it had been to lose her. that's why you didn't blame him for his behavior.

"is she okay?" joel asked you half asleep and you hummed in response. "she's just hungry. i'm sorry. you can go back to sleep." you sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep of your eyes and picking her up in your arms. you mumbled something to her and kissed her forehead while you started to softly rock her in your arms. "no. how can i- how can i help?" joel sat on the bed and waited, noticing how she calmed down after you took her in your arms. the light coming from the street illuminated your silhouette and allowed Joel to appreciate your daughter's wet face. "hm- i need her bottle. it's ready in the kitchen. if you could heat it in the microwave for like a minute, that would be great." while he waited, he couldn't help but think of baby sarah in his arms. her cheeks were wet and her eyes were wide open, joel had to leave early in the morning for work but he didn't mind staying with her up all night if it was necessary. joel was trying to distract her until her bottle was ready, letting her small fingers wrap around his big one. joel had to take a few seconds before going back to the room with you, his hand pressed against his chest trying to control his breathing. once he came back with the baby's bottle, he sat by your side, handing it over to you and nodding after you thanked him. he watched as she enjoyed her meal and as you softly rocked her in your arms. your head fell on joel's shoulder and he didn't know what to do so he just stayed with you like that until you finished feeding her.

"i'm late. i'll see you at lunchtime." you couldn't be late another time, maria will literally kill you. you placed your daughter in joel's arms before you could remember how hesitant he had been with her and he had no other choice but to hold her so she wouldn't fall.

"are you okay? do you want me to take her?" ellie asked after seeing joel's shocked face. he held the little girl with outstretched arms, keeping her away from him. the baby cooed and extended her arms wanting to reach joel. she opened and closed her fist, getting really impatient and starting to make sounds of discomfort. the man frowned and had no other choice but to hold her against his chest. "shit... well done, joel. look, she even seems to like you." ellie added when the girl hid her face in joel's neck.

a few days after that he seemed to be closer to your daughter, you even caught him playing with her rattle, your daughter lying in her crib and with her arms up in the air trying to reach the toy. he was serious, not allowing himself to show how he really felt. your baby laughed with him and you decided to leave the room carefully to not interrupt the moment.

he started with small things like letting her hold his thumb between her fist every time he noticed she was staring into his soul again, and always keeping an eye on her when ellie was helping her to walk in the snow in case she fell or got tired of trying. then joel started feeding her, cutting the fruit into very small pieces, making sure that the milk wasn't too hot or too cold. at first, just sitting by your side but she was too distracted by his presence to eat so he had to start feeding her eventually.

you sighed in exhaustion once you entered your house. "i'm so tired." you sighed again and rested your head on joel's shoulder. your baby was half asleep on joel's arm, visibly comfortable by the way she cooed every now and then and by the way she rubbed her face against his arm. joel was rocking her softly. using one finger you tickled her belly to let her know that you were home. he put her in her pajamas, fed her dinner and you would even say that he had bathed her by the way her little curls were still damp. "she likes you." you said. he brought the pacifier to her mouth and with closed eyes, she quickly caught it with her lips. "she likes you more than me." "that's not true." joel spoke with a low voice, being careful not to be too rough and wake the child up. he turned his head to look at you, his eyes finally leaving your daughter to pay attention to you. you also looked at him with your head still resting on his shoulder. "you like her more than me." you pouted, trying to stay focused on his deep brown eyes and not on his lips and how close his mouth was to your face. "also not true." you smirked and moved one of your hands to play with your daughter's. she squeezed your index finger tightly between her tiny fist while joel kept looking at you. all that you had now should have been with him. your daughter, your house, your life. before the outbreak happened, one night drinking a few glasses of wine at his house after sarah went to sleep, you told him what you hoped your life would be like. you wanted to find your person and maybe even get married, you wanted to travel, moved in with them, start a family, raise your children, have movie nights. not much different from what you had with him at that time. you were almost there, touching your dreamed life with your fingertips, if you only had more time... when joel realized, your eyes were on him again and you had his chin between your thumb and index finger. your thumb brushed his lower lip, testing the waters, and his eyes slowly closed. you understood that as a green light to continue so, you leaned towards him and pressed your lips against his. just like that, no need to move them or rush things. you just missed feeling his lips against yours as much as he did. the kiss lasted ten seconds at most, but it was enough time for your breaths to mix and for joel's body to truly relax after months. you showed a little smile to him after the kiss and the soft look on his face let you know that he was satisfied. you went in for another kiss and he had his eyes closed already but then all of a sudden, your daughter on joel's arm started crying. "oh, i think someone's jealous."

5K notes · View notes

ohcaptains · 2 years ago

Text

what if this is real?

pairing. ellie williams x female! reader

an. i'm gonna pretend that this isn't my first fic in six months and just move on...anyway. um. hi? i hope you enjoy -- not my usual filth. love u.

synopsis. it's the end of the world, but there's still parties to attend. or, the first kiss in yours and ellie's situationship.

warnings. kissing -- suggestive language and swearing. probably the most tame i've written in a hot min!

You’re standing in front of Ellie’s door, thinking, fuck this.

It would be easy to turn around and pretend that you’ve forgotten all about the party. You could pretend that you’d slept through the whole thing. Ignore the – eventual – banging on your door, and the husk of Ellie’s voice penetrating the wood, asking, Babe, you sleeping?

Your cold fingers reach down and tug at your rising skirt, and you think -- for the third time this night -- that you shouldn’t have worn this God damned outfit.

The alcohol you’d downed before trudging over here quiets that voice a little, but you’re always nervous around Ellie.

If you told her that, she’d scoff and laugh you off. It was true, though. She made you go all doe-eyed and dumb.

The thought of her complimenting you made you wear this silly outfit, and It was winter, for fucks sake.

You knock on her door, déjà vu washing over you. How many times have you stood, nervous, at Ellie’s door? You chew on your bottom lip, playing with the hem of your skirt still.

“Coming!” Ellie’s familiar cadence immediately hollers.

She fumbles around with something, and when she opens the door, she’s tugging a simple tank top over her muscular belly.

You briefly glance at her middle, eyes finding the faint lines of her abs.

“Well don’t you look nice,” she teases.

When you eventually drag your eyes to her eyes, she’s giving you a once-over, a teasing beam on her pretty, freckled face.

As if to get a better look at your outfit, she pushes her loose auburn hair behind her ears.

Music floods through the open door – some shitty indie band she had a thing for – but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears from her previous compliment.

It wasn’t all that great– she’d said you had looked nice – but that, plus the interest in her green eyes as she examines you, has your belly swirling.

Ellie steps back to get a better look. She licks the corner of her mouth and nods to you. “Twirl for me.”

Your eyes automatically roll, but you listen anyway -- hands out at your waist, you do a little slow twirl. Ellie whistles low.

When you face her again, she’s leaning against the door frame, muscular arms crossed over her chest and grinning cockily. “Oh yeah, putting on a show for me.” “Shut up – are you coming?” you ask, ignoring the heat that finds you and jabbing a thumb behind you.

Ellie drags her eyes away from the cut of your skirt, glancing into the distance. She nods as if she’s just remembered. As she nods, small bits of hair flutter onto her broad shoulders.

Her white tank is damp, too, with small patches of water staining the fabric.

“Oh yeah, I just got distracted. My hair was touching my shoulders weird, so I’m trying to cut it but I think I’ve fucked up the back.”

Trust Ellie to get that distracted and take up such a monumental task before a party. You motion for her to turn.

“Twirl for me.”

Begrudgingly, she does, managing to roll her eyes.

“Oh my god,” you suddenly gasp, hands flying to your mouth, “what have you done?”

Ellie spins, grabbing the back of her head in a panic.

“What?” she asks, green eyes wide. Just as quick as you put the act on, you drop it with a shrug. “It’s fine, just slightly uneven.”

“You’re an asshole, get in here.”

She grabs your hand and yanks you in, closing the door behind you. The speed makes you dizzy, so you grab a hold of her shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

“Whoa – gimmie a minute,” you whisper, trying to blink the world back into the frame.

Ellie immediately bends to look at you, confused.

There’s a beat where she’s concerned, and she gives you another once over, trying to see if there’s anything physically wrong. “The fuck is wrong with you?” she asks, nervous laughter bubbling out of her lips. “I’m –” you start to admit, blinking the fuzz away. Ellie watches you put your forefinger and thumb together, squinting, explaining that you’re, “– slightly drunk,” and she frowns, her face hard, waiting for you to explain further. “I’m wearing a skirt,” you simply state, and her frown deepens, mouth quirking to the side. She glances down, eyeing the short fabric.

“I noticed,” she bleats. “And I needed a little liquid courage…” you let out an exasperated sigh, shaking your head at yourself. “Neil’s homemade wine is no joke.” “Okay, sit down,” Ellie orders.

She begins to walk towards you, using her body to edge you closer to her bed, and you frown, asking, “What?” but still, you move with her. You try and explain that “I’m fine,” but Ellie just shakes her head, “Sit down, before you fall down.”

She can’t be serious. She’s seen me drunk before…worse than this. “El- “you begin, and her face tenses, no more fun Ellie. Her hard tone is unwavering as she asks, “Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?”

Your eyes widen, and there’s a beat of silence where your body reacts to her words.

Holy shit, you think, cheeks going hot. You have to laugh to hide it – have you push your thighs together.

The fuck was that?

“Ooo, okay,” you scoff, hands up, brows wiggling, and you let Ellie finish walking you to her unmade bed. You bounce onto the mattress, hands in your lap obediently.

The desire to explain hits you again, and you push at the mattress, saying, “Ellie, seriously, I’m fine.”

It’s a lie – every time you twist your head, the world turns – and the sudden concern from her is slightly overwhelming, if not embarrassing.

Still, she ignores your comment and walks to the sink, pouring you a glass of water, and then she grabs something from a wooden box. She thrusts both into your hands. “A bran muffin?” you question, staring at the lopsided baked good. Ellie pushes the glass to your face, and you glance up at her over the rim.

Her jaw is tense with unease, and her shoulders are rolled back, heavy with responsibility.

When you don’t move, she leans down, and her face is blurry, hand blurry, as you see the side of it before she taps your cheek softly. “Drink and eat – I’m gonna finish my hair.”

Then she turns to the bathroom, and you watch her muscular back disappear.

90’s indie pours into her little apartment, and you sit, dumbfounded at what has just happened.

You diligently sip at the water.

Ellie is always a little hot-headed, and yeah, when you mucked about on runs, she’d snap into leader mode, but the alcohol, threaded with the warmth of her apartment, your nerves, and the bare skin of her neck and arms – the slither of skin between her belt and hem of her top – have you befuddled.

She’d slipped into protective mode so quickly.

Was a little mean about it too.

You lay back on her bed, pulling the hem of your skirt down to try and cover your bare thighs, and frown at her ceiling, munching on the muffin.

Come to think of it, Ellie had been odd these last couple of weeks.

Your usual flirtatious banter has been edged with something else, and she was glancing at you more often – ushering you in front of her on runs, so she could watch your back. Pulling you behind her all the same.

Do I have to pick you up and sit you down myself?

You sip at the water and nibble on the muffin. Mindlessly rub circles into your lower thigh, thinking about the way she crooked her scarred brow and the hardness of her features.

Challenge me, I dare you.

Ellie always took a lot on, and she has been stressed more than usual recently, but she didn’t have to be a dick about it.

You push your bottom lip out, thinking at the ceiling. You think about her though, and something sickly sweet still swirls in your belly.

It makes your cheeks heat, and you blink away the sudden fever, clenching your eyes closed.

You manage to finish the water and the muffin, but your belly still feels funny. Hands are clammy, skin prickly.

Maybe you’re drunker than you thought.

You decide to get more water.

As you get to her kitchenette, she glances at you from the bathroom beside it.

“You okay?” she asks, and you turn to her. She’s mid-chop, the scissors loosely sitting in her grip. She’s also taken her top off. Now donning only her bra and jeans, the swirl in your belly doubles.

The sight is not uncommon for you, but you find it hard to be angry at her when she’s half-naked.

There’s a light dusting of loose auburn hair on her shoulders, and she drops the scissors, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair.

You glance down at her chest, seeing the faint muscles flex as she stretches. Her jeans hang low around her hips, and it’s only then that you notice they’re unbuttoned.

How hadn’t you noticed that before?

“Babe?” “Hm?” you hum, snapping back to her. She’s wearing a bold smile. Your throat constricts. “I asked if you were okay.” “Oh –” you start, quickly turning to the sink. You pour more water, shaking your head. You remember where you are. Remember what’s happening.

“No,” you start, crossing your arms under your chest, “you were mean.” Ellie pauses. When you turn back to her, there’s an amused smile on her face, “Mean?” she asks, “Yeah – “you firmly jut, sipping your water. “I’m not a child Ellie.” Ellie mimics your stroppy face and puts her arms under her chest, too.

You risk a glance at her chest and see that her nipples are hard, peaking through the soft fabric of her bra.

Fuck. You snap back to her face.

“What do you mean?” she questions, cocking her head to the side. She begins to sway towards you, and you don’t move as she comes to rest in front of you – your back to the kitchen counter. There’s a second where your brain short-circuits. You forget that you’re meant to be mad at her. Her long fingers reach up, and you glance at her hand, breath caught in your throat. She smooths your hair behind your ear, inches away, “You’re my wittle baby.”

“You’re annoying,” you quickly groan, trying to suppress your smile as you turn to put the glass in the sink.

Ellie groans, “Ughhhh, I know I know, I’m awful—” and reaches around to take the empty glass from you and put it in the sink.

You stare at it. You could have done that. You were about to do that.

She takes your hand, turning you to face her again.

“Come help me with the back.”

Your intertwined hands rest between you, pushing against your bare thigh.

Ignoring it seems like the wisest path. “Why should I?” you quirk, a faux frown on your face.

She’d put your glass in the sink. She’d taken the glass out of your hand and put it in the sink for you. Ellie pouts, pushing her bottom lip out, and she leans her full body weight on you, hips flush against yours, suddenly so close as she whispers, “You don’t want me to look pretty?”

Your belly flips. The smell of her, citrusy and damp, floods your nostrils, and you try to blink away the sudden dizziness that threatens to wash over you.

It’s then that you realise you’re not all that drunk anymore.

It’s just Ellie.

Your eyes flick down to her lips.

You trace the pink of them, focusing on the little cut she’s got there from chewing nervously. The air is suddenly thicker – all-consuming, and on your belly, you feel the brush of the button on Ellie’s jeans.

Warmth blooms, confusing and sudden.

Ellie’s silent. Looking up at her, you find that she’s studying you, too. Lavish green bathes you and you feel her unlock her hand from yours, pushing them onto the countertop on either side of your hips. The movement forces her closer, and you instinctually lean back, gasping as she follows you, forehead against yours.

You grab the back of her neck to stabilise yourself.

Her hands have moved to hold your hips.

There’s a fleeting second where you think she’s going to kiss you, but she instead brushes her nose against yours, and your mouth opens, a small hush of breath escaping.

Whatever this is, it’s never happened before. This is uncharted territory.

Your fingers stuff into her loose auburn strands, and you look down at where your body connects, seeing the tops of her breasts in the fabric bra. Her hardened nipples push at the cotton.

You drag your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath.

Looking back to Ellie, she’s watching you watch her. A small, crooked smile has absorbed her lips, and her cheeks are flushed pink, warm under your curious gaze.

She looks at your mouth, pushes her forehead against yours again, and inhales deeply, exhaling as she whispers, “Really wanna kiss you.”

Your heart picks up speed, the beat of it making your skin prickle -- your fingers numb.

A nervous panic finds you, and words fail as Ellie lazily gazes at your lips.

Your fingers move in her hair, cradling the back of her head, and, “Kiss me, then,” you whisper.

You barely see Ellie’s fleeting smile before she’s moving to press her lips to yours.

Her touch is tentative. Nervous, as she thumbs your hips, soft lips brushing against yours. Your eyes flutter closed, leaning into her mouth, and Ellie hums, the sound of it echoing through your body.

She pulls away for a second – maybe to centre herself - but you come back, excitedly brushing your tongue over her lips before kissing her, swallowing the surprised groan she emits.

Her hands tighten on your hips, while yours come to clutch the back of her head again. She tastes warm and new, the feeling unfamiliar, but you quickly become accustomed to it as she tongues her way into your mouth, body pressing tight against yours.

Heat consumes, warm and sudden.

For a fleeting second, you think, I’m kissing my best friend, but the thought is pushed away as Ellie’s hands greedily push behind you, flattening against your ass.

A gasp flutters out of your mouth, followed by an immediate swirl in your belly.

You move your hand, massaging the muscular side of her stomach. The kiss picks up as your hands move, your thumb running over the band of her bra.

Ellie whispers your name, desperate and breathy, and suddenly, it’s all too real -- you pull away.

Your eyes flutter open, and you swallow a gasp.

“We’re going to be late,” you rush, hand flattening on her stomach. Ellie takes a minute to collect herself. You can’t look at her as she watches you, emotions a whirlwind.

Eventually, her breathing settles. “Shit, yeah. The party,” she whispers, and she pulls back, hands leaving your body, the heat dispersing. She itches the back of her neck, nervously looking around. “Er – fuck. Lemme put a shirt on,” and as she looks for one, you lean against the counter, head hung back as you silently curse at the ceiling.

The walk to the party is silent.

Ellie – bless her heart – keeps a tight grip on your hand, thinking you’re still tipsy, but the alcohol has faded from your veins, replaced by a thicker, more visceral intoxication.

The touch of her is maddening.

You try and keep up, but your brain is foggy, and you’ve suddenly forgotten the way to the Tipsy Bison.

Ellie’s hand in yours is like a homing beacon.

Really wanna kiss you.

That’s what she’d said, right? The tenor of her voice consumes your mind, followed by the taste of her, and the slow-building desperation as she pulled you against her.

You hear the reverberating sound of her quick breathing as the bar comes into view, bright lights pouring out of its windows.

When Ellie pushes the door open, she drops your hand.

“Look who decided to finally show up!” Jesse hollers when he sees you. A hot acid shoots through your chest.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mumble, pulling away. Ellie glances at you, eyes sombre, and you think she’s about to say something, but no words make it out. “What’d I miss?” you hear Jesse ask. You clench your hand together. Really wanna kiss you.

Of course, Joel is behind the bar. His smile is welcoming and warm as he takes you in.

“Fashionably late?” he quirks as you lean against the wood.

“Er, yeah. Something like that,” you mumble, then motion behind you.

“Your girl always has the best timing.” Joel squints. He flicks his curious gaze between you and Ellie, noting the way she’s watching you, and his mouth twists, teasing. “I think you mean your girl.”

“What?” you snap, head craning to Joel. His smile widens. Panic blooms again. “She say something?” you rattle, not bothering to hide the eagerness in your tone, and Joel shakes his head, pouring you a drink. He pours two, and slides them to you, “Not a word.”

The night passes in a blur. You spend most of it with Claire from the Kitchen, ignoring the burn at the back of your neck from Ellie’s eyes.

It doesn’t matter where you scamper off too – her gaze always finds you, searing a hole in your spine.

At one point, Claire cuts you off mid-sentence, “Sorry, Ellie’s looking at me weird.” “What?” you ask, turning immediately. You find the green-eyed girl staring, and when you glance at her, she quickly snaps away, almost flinching. With a sigh, you turn back to Claire.

“It’s not you – it’s me. It’s—” you shake your head, “—a long story.” “Well, maybe you can explain later because she’s coming our way.” You twist, and sure enough, Ellie is pushing through the crowd, half-full drink in hand. When she looks at you, she takes a sip, as if she needs the liquid courage.

Quickly, she’s inches away, and you smell the musky citrusy warmth of her. Take in her frame from your seat in the booth. Really wanna kiss you.

Her eyes find you, and they’re glazed from what looks like whiskey in her tumbler. “Um. Can we talk? Please,” then, “Hi Claire.”

Claire waves. There’s a beat of silence where you just look at Ellie – your friend, Ellie, who you just kissed – and you find that you’re rooted to the spot.

You don’t want to talk about it.

Don’t want to talk about how dizzy she made you feel, how you’d begged for more, reaching for the warmth of her lips as you dragged your hands over her narrow body.

Kiss me then.

When you don’t move, Ellie’s features freeze, and there’s fear there – please. Please talk to me.

You begin to slide out. Put on a front for Claire who is looking between the pair of you, perplexed. “Yeah, sure Els. Sorry, Claire, I’ll find you, okay?” Ellie holds a hand out for you to hold, but she pulls it back, scornful of the instinct. Shame, as you were about to grab it.

When you get out of the Tipsy Bison, you realise that the temperature has dropped rapidly.

You’re about to comment on the weather, but Ellie is turning, suddenly, stopping near the notice board and holding her hands up.

“I’m sorry,” she spits, the apology loud in the chilly air.

There’s no one around. They’re all either in bed or at the party, and the empty streets of Jackson make her apology more real, almost – just the two of you.

Music bleeds through the wood, swirling between the pair of you.

She clasps her long fingers together and starts tugging at them, wringing them out like a wet towel.

“I’m – fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry for kissing you it was…” she shakes her head, not able to find the word. Her lip wobbles and you remember that Ellie’s an emotional, needy drunk. “…I’m sorry,” she whispers again, words cracking. She looks at her Converse, ashamed. You take her red hands. Smooth your fingers over the marks she’d rubbed into them, silently begging for her to look at you.

Ellie had never kissed you before. But thinking about it, there’s not an ounce of regret floating in your body.

Confusion, sure but confused because you want it to happen again.

You bend to look at her, saying, with every fibre of your being that “It’s okay.” She’s quick to brush you off. Still looking at the floor, she states, “You were drunk.” “I wasn’t that drunk, Ellie. You’d plied me with food, and I had two glasses of water.” She shrugs, “Still.”

Taking a tentative step closer, you tug her hands, holding them close to your belly. Ellie runs hot and holding her has taken the edge off the chill.

Kiss me then. “I asked you to kiss me, Els.”

And I’d ask you to kiss me again if you weren’t so sad. Did kissing me make you sad, Ellie?

She slowly raises her head. There she is.

You husk, “I’m sorry if I made this confusing.” “No – I. I shouldn’t have,” she flexes her fingers around yours, “said what I said. I didn’t mean it.” Your face falls. Quickly, you try and pull the mask back up, but you squeak, “You didn’t mean it?” Ellies pales.

“Fuck—” she pulls her hands away, turning her back to you.

“I always say the wrong shit.”

Without her touch, the Jackson cold consumes you. A blue wave crashes into you. Lonely.

You’re lonely, standing on the porch of the Tipsy Bison, watching her back move as she rubs the base of her palms into her eyes.

She spits a curse. The air swirls under your skirt, and you suddenly feel a sickly feeling in your belly.

Your voice is a shell of itself when you whisper, “Ellie. We can just forget it happened if that’s what you want.” You get no response.

Had you made it all up? Had you read it wrong? Had Ellie even said what you thought she had?

“Please say something,” you breathe, picking at your nails.

You lick your lips and taste the ghost of her, hot and desperate in her apartment.

The musky taste of her will haunt you. Will consume your dreams, you’re sure of it, and you’ll wake, startling back into Jackson with that Blue Wave knocking into you once again.

Her back flexes. Silence ticks. Music bleeds, tinny – not real. Might as well not be.

The echo of the kiss fizzes at the back of your teeth like the hard-boiled sweet Ellie had slipped you during a drill one morning.

It’s lemon, she whispered, just don’t choke on it when we run.

You turn, ready to run back to your apartment and hide under your duvet.

Rid yourself of this shame that has suddenly consumed you, the Blue Wave that runs cold, but warm Ellie takes your hand, pulling it to her.

A gasp lodges in your throat, and Ellie’s speaking, spewing the truth at you with wild, green eyes.

“I did want to kiss you, fuck. I did. I did, I did---I do!” she brandishes the words like a weapon, planting it into Jackson, the first man on the moon.

“and I—probably should have waited for a better moment. But you were just—” she huffs, shaking her head at herself, holding your hand like it’s hers and she’s not really holding it, just, feeling it there, the constant feel and not feel of your limb, warm and fuzzy from under the skin.

You watch her swallow down a thousand eventualities, a thousand ways to phrase her thoughts.

Finally, “I do want to kiss you,” she concludes. After a beat, she flashes you a small Ellie smile, and Jackson isn’t cold anymore. It’s summer. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “Okay,” she copies. “Cool.” “Yeah,” another Ellie smile, “Cool.” “You wanna go back inside? I’m freezing.” “Yeah,” she nods, holding her/your hand, “Cool.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x female reader #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2

1K notes · View notes

azrielover · 2 months ago

Text

Skyfall : Beyond

Azriel x oc fic! It’s not completely important to read the first part unless you want the background of how they first met (some things may make for sense though)

Inspired by the tangled song “when will my life begin”

Go to the masterlist to see more parts and timeline! 🖤

Summary: Azriel is let out of his cell for the first time at six years old. His best friend is there to protect him.

Warnings: Child abuse

Word Count: 2.8k

Skyfall Masterlist: click here

31BCE

“Az?”

Drip. Drip.

“Azriel?”

The cells felt darker today. More dangerous. Noelle felt uneasy as she made her way down the familiar path to Azriel’s cell, trying to avoid the cold, damp stone walls from touching her soft skin.

For the past two years, Noelle had been coming down to visit Azriel all alone, giving him food, blankets and good company. She told him fantastical stories of the world above and he offered up some gruesome ones of his one. Stories of Kraven and Matteo coming down for nothing else but to torture him with their words, stories of Lord Tobias, who she no longer considered her father, giving the orders for the guards to unleash their cruelties onto the small boy, stories she would not have believed if it were not of the proof right in front of her eyes.

The rest of the noble Illyrian family were away making their appearances to the surrounding camps. Noelle had insisted she was too ill to travel and convinced Lady Thera to let her stay in bed. The lady had seemed unconvinced but still followed her husband and boys, stopping to Noelle’s bedside with a quick kiss to the forehead and promising to be home before supper.

Her entire family had been a lie and she hated them all. Sometimes Noelle liked to dream about what her life would be like if her true mother had never died and her real father was around. It was useless thinking and only made her angry.

As she moved through the darkness, she could sense she was getting closer, the insistent tug in her chest always leading her directly to him.

“Az,” she tried again, frustrated at the lack of reply, “I swear, if you’re ignoring me again I’ll-”, Noelle halted suddenly as a wall of thick, hissing shadows, rose above her, her lips parted slightly as she took a tentative step back. The shadows took up the entire space of the corridor from floor to ceiling and slinked around one another like snakes in a cage.

Brows furrowing, Noelle reached her hand out slowly, as if to not scare them, and pushed her hand through the black mass. As soon as her fingers made contact, the shadows jerked back. She drew her hand away. Interesting indeed.

Inhaling deeply, and squeezing her eyes together hard, Noelle stepped her entire body through the shadowy wall. The change was felt almost immediately. It became achingly cold, and deafenly silent. She could sense the shadows around her, not touching, but close enough to feel the ripple in the air as they twirled.

One tentative step at a time lead her to the beginnings of her friend’s cell, “Azriel?” she whispered, raising her hands to grasp onto the strong metal bars of the cage, “where-”. She sucked in a breath as another pair of small hands wrapped around her own, violet eyes locking onto Azriel’s as he stood on the other side. “Ellie?” he asked softly, resting his head on the bar closest to her own.

“Oh Az,” she breathed, readjusting her grip on him as she noticed his damp cheeks and red eyes, “what did they do this time?” The boy in front of her shook his head, eyes clamping shut. It wouldn’t be easy to get him to tell her how he was feeling, although it never was. Over the past two years, Noelle had been able to find out quite a bit more about Lord Tobias’ secret affair child.

Number one. He loves moon flowers.

“Really?!”, she remembered saying, laughing slightly at the absurdity of it all, “but I thought you’ve never left this place. How in the mothers name do you know-” He cut her off silently, gesturing to the miniature window above him, “They bloom once a year right up there,” the window rested at ground level and was covered by Thera herself, who had planted an array of extravagant plants to hide the evils that lay beneath her home, “once, they came through the wards and said hello to me.”

Noelle later found out that his mother had taught him all this when she came to visit once and claimed that the night they bloomed fell on his birthday. Every single year. The moonflower was his mothers favourite so naturally he claimed them for himself as well, something they could share.

Number two. The shadows could speak to him.

A year into their daily meetings lead by Noelle, Azriel had confessed to her that the shadows of his cell had started to whisper things to him. He explained they only used to sing him lullabies at night when he was younger, but now it seemed he was beginning to understand them. He had Noelle convinced that the lack of daylight had done some permanent mental damage and he had offically gone insane, yet her curiosity won her over and she began her own research on ‘speaking shadows’.

As a noble lady of the Blackwell household in Illyria, she had private tutors and handmaids at her disposal. And although it was near damning if an Illyrian woman received an education on anything other than childbearing and motherhood, the servants usually turned a blind eye if they saw her wandering towards the manor’s library.

Number three. His mother was his whole world.

Noelle knew she visited Az once a week in his cell, and that the guards always only unlocked it for her to go in, not Az to come out. Noelle herself had never seen the female but based on the stories Azriel had whispered to her through the cell bars, she desperately wanted to.

Like clockwork, every Wednesday morning, security around and inside the manor would grow, subtly signifying her weekly visit was in session. They only ever had an hour together at most, and so when the extra Illyrian warriors had not appeared in her home this morning, Noelle began to grow suspicious. Maybe Azriel’s mother had not come today.

“Your mum,” she started slowly, “she comes down here to see you, yes?” Azriel nodded, his head lowering to the ground.

“Did she,” Noelle cocked her head to the side, trying to catch the boy’s eyes, “not come today?”

“No.”

She squeezed his hands and he finally looked up at her, “They told me no.” His eyes hardened in anger, and Noelle’s heart ached for him. His entire existence being controlled by the Blackwell’s was cruel enough, for them to refuse the one part they knew he found happiness in, well, it was utterly barbaric.

“Well.. would you like to do something with me today?” she asked, sticking her face as close to his as she could with the bars separating them, he hummed, a yes then.

“I’ve been preparing something for us,” she told him excitedly, “for weeks! Think of it as a distraction from earlier” Azriel’s brows rose apprehensively, Noelle grinned and rolled her eyes at him, “I swear, trust me.” Sighing quietly, he nodded as if he knew he had no choice anyway, how could he ever refuse her anything?

Noelle stepped back and broke away from him, “So, you know how I’ve been training my magic with Miss Cordelia?” Azriel’s head dipped once in answer, “And you also know how in order to get you out of the cell we would need to unlock the wards?” His head nodded again, “Well Azzy, I have figured it out!” The expression stuck on his face seemed to say, what are you talking about crazy girl? Letting out a dramatic sigh of exasperation, Noelle closed her eyes and held her hands up to the cell door, “Let me show you then”.

Light, pure light, slowly poured out of Noelle’s outstretched hands and curled around the oval lock on the cell door. The door itself began thumbing like a heartbeat, slowly become entirely encapsulated by Noelle’s magic.

The young Illyrian girl began to sweat in effort, these wards were hard to unlock for a reason, but her magic had grown so much over the past few years that she knew it was only a matter of time before..

The door swung open.

For the first time, there was nothing separating Azriel and Noelle from barreling into each other and holding on tightly.

Azriel was laughing joyously in her arms, “I can’t believe- how did-,” she giggled in response to his blubbering, “I told you, now come on!” Noelle broke away, tugging him along the cell corridor, hand in hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The pair had successfully made it out of the cells through the secret entrance which connected her room to the dungeons and outdoors. Before she and Azriel had met, she used the secret passage to sneak extra playtime with herself in the snow.

Standing together in the semi-darkness, she quietly led him over to the door which would take them outside. She could feel Azriel’s hazel eyes trained on the stone door before them.

She raised one eyebrow cheekily, “You wanna go out there?” His head whipped towards hers so suddenly, and she laughed at his disbeliving expression, as if he had just been told the greatest news of his life, which she guessed he probably just had.

“It’s still sort of green outside,” she explained reaching to open the door, “but father- Lord Tobias told me the first snow of the season is due today! Just like when I first met you.” She tugged it open with one final pull and a gust of wind blew in to meet them. The smell of fresh grass and winter chill refreshed her senses after being below ground for so long.

Turning to look at her best friend beside her, she tracked the tears that ran silently down his cheeks. Swallowing harshly he finally looked at her, “Thank you.”

She smiled up at him, even though she was a year older, at just six years old Azriel still stood over her.

Walking outside alone, Noelle gestured for Az to follow. The Illyrian boy looked down suspiciously at the green below him, “It’s grass,” Noelle confirmed for him as he nodded absentmindedly, finally taking a small step towards the girl with long white hair.

Azriel stood still for a moment, barefooted in the soil and grass, toes wiggling around. He let out a shy giggle, “Just like I dreamed they be,” she nodded enthusiastically, beckoning him closer with her outstretched hand, “the winter breeze,” he breathed in deeply, looking up in wonder, “the way it’s calling me.” Noelle saw his wings twitch in answer, and she wondered how painful it was to ignore his own instinct to fly.

Tobias had restricted her own flying practices since she was female up until she was five. When she started to get curious around the age of three, he ordered her handmaidens to tie them up with thick rope everyday. It was only forgone last year because Thera had finally put her foot down on the matter.

“She’s still an Illyrian,” she had said angrily, “and she is still our daughter.” Tobias had scoffed at that but eventually agreed to appease his wife.

Since then, she had started gliding off of high surfaces and perfecting her landing. Some of her personal guards even took her flying with them on the rare occasion they needed to stretch their own wings, holding her under her arms and allowing her to glide along beside them. However they were nearly always caught since her wings were very recognisable. White in colour, it was hard to miss when she flew across the sky.

She used to ask Thera when she was very young where her wings had come from, she always replied with, “Your mother’s goodness and light now resides inside of you, and your wings.” She always used to laugh at that, “Mama,” she would giggle, clasping Thera’s hands, “thats just not true!”

She shook her head away from the memory.

“Walk with me?” Azriel asked, now standing beside her.

“Always.”

The pair ended up sitting atop the thick branch of an ancient tree that surrounded the manor, just out of reach from any prying eyes. White wings next to black wings.

Their feet swayed back and forth as they spoke, “You know your my best friend, right Az?”

The boys head turned to face her as a shy grin spread across his face, “Well, you’re my best friend too.”

She tsked at him shaking her head slightly, “But you don’t know many other people, when you get out of here, someone else will replace me.”

“That won’t happen Ellie.”

Azriel was very serious for a six year old and the tone in his voice made Noelle laugh, “No one calls me that,” bumping her shoulder against his playfully, a knowing grin spread further across her face. She caught Azriel’s eye right before he bashfully looked down at the ground, studying the moss on the floor rather intensely.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, I love it. Truely.”

They sat in comfortable silence, Azriel zipping his gaze about to try imprint everything in sight within his memory. Noelle studied him as he did so, the familiar tug in her chest pushing her to get closer. Flicking her eyes to his absent gaze once more, she sighed. Noelle had heard of a near by camp, Windhaven, which the Lady of Night frequently visited with her young son. Every description of the Night Courts Lady seemed to hold the idea that she was kind, generous and progressive for Illyrian standards. If Noelle could get to her, maybe she could get Azriel out of his cell forever.

She would make the travel for any chance Azriel would be safe from his father forever.

“Thank you Noelle,” Azriel whispered, “For the first time ever, I feel completely free.”

She flung herself at him for the second time that day before he had the chance to protest, squeezing tightly.

He squeezed back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours had passed since the young shadow singer and light wielder had stepped outside early this morning. It had started to snow as they played and chased eachother around the manor grounds, giggling and laughing freely.

Azriel’s feet were becoming more and more frostbitten by the minute as he didn’t own a pair of shoes himself, but Noelle bounded ahead freely. If Azriel hadn’t known for certain they were in Illyria, he would have thought that she was the princess of the Winter Court from one of Noelle’s extravegant novels she retold rather animatedly to him.

He watched as she raised her head to the sky to let the snow flakes fall on her pale skin and platinum curls. He tracked the frost as it landed on her sharp nose, melting softly into her.

She danced gracefully, as she always was, but seeing her above ground in the daylight made her look ethereal. The familiar thread connecting himself to his companion glowed brightly in recognition of the young Illyrian’s thoughts.

He was so entraptured with her, Azriel hadn’t heard the ugly stomping of his half-brothers boots behind him, getting closer, and closer.

“Now what do we have here?”

Azriel froze and Noelle blanched at the bulky figure behind him.

The two locked eyes and Noelle shook her head slightly in his direction.

Do not turn around.

“Matteo, please.”

The voice that taunted Azriel’s nightmares laughed cruelly, “Stupid girl.”

Azriel felt the wind shift and Matteo launched himself into the air, soaring high, no doubt running off to tell Lord Tobias of his findings.

“Azriel,” Noelle turned to him stoicly, “get back to the hidden door and into you’re cell. You have never been outside. You do not know me. I do not know you. Got it?” He nodded, though her words created a deep hole in his chest.

“Good-bye Ellie” he whispered moving to turn away,

“Bye-bye Azzy” she sniffled back.

Then he ran.

Through the snow covered trees and frosted ground, atop frozen lakes and icy blades of grass, into the dark stone corridors he grew to know all too well as he pushed open the hidden stone door, deeper and deeper into the dungeons of the manor. Letting his shadows show him the way, Azriel pumped his straining legs faster, but it hurt so much, he had never run before today.

Reaching the entrance of his cell, he quickly scampered inside, shut the gate and watched as the wards reworked themselves over the metal. Slumping heavily against the stone wall, Azriel slide down in exhaustion.

His own heavy pants were all he could hear, heart pounding so hard, he could feel it vibrate into his finger tips.

He sat dazed as guards rushed down to check on him, didn’t move until they left. His head did whip upright as the sound of faint voices cascaded from his cell window, whispers being carried down to him from the wind.

“Your wings, or him.” His father.

“What?” Noelle.

He scrambled to stand at the sound of his friend. No, not her.

“You heard me girl. Your wings,” a pause, “or the bastard.”

“I still do not know who it is you speak of.”

All he heard next was a harsh slap and a child-like squeak before silence over took.

It was silent for a long while after.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks so much for reading!!! 🖤🖤🖤

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar oc #azriel fanfic #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #shadowsinger x reader

63 notes · View notes

me-and-your-husband · 2 years ago

Note

Bully!ellie !!!!! omg i neeeeeeed

i am obsessed omg

warnings: smut, mean!ellie, fingering (r receiving), fem reader, dirty talk, kinda public sex idk, shitty writing, not proofread, mirror sex

she wouldn't be the typical bully, not ellie. she wouldn't be super popular. she'd never hurt you. she wasn't known as a bully at all. only to you.

it would 100% be one of those instances where "she's only being mean to you because she likes you" like they tell little girls in the third grade (except it's not normalizing abusive relationships let's be real). however, you wouldn't even think that she had any semblance of care in her heart for you.

when she saw you around campus, she'd always make some snide comment loud enough for you to hear to dina or jesse. they'd always tell her to stop being mean, but she couldn't get enough of that look on your face, the look of "what did i ever do to you?".

she'd accidentally shoulder-check you in the hall, sometimes accidentally shoving your books out of your hands. she'd make snide remarks to you in the halls.

you ask for clarification from one of your professors on something menial. she'd laugh, "no shit."

you'd walk into a party wearing something you wouldn't normally wear, something a little more revealing. she'd laugh again. "you're wearing that?" and she'd give you a massive side eye. dina would shove her and just go "tf?"

she'd turn away, trying to mask the blush that crawled up her neck and to her cheeks, trying to mask the way she was sweating a little and her breath was uneven because you were showing more skin than usual and she felt like she was going to go insane if you looked at her like that one more time.

you'd be studying in the library, listening to music with headphones, when she walks up behind you, lifts the ear, and lets it snap back down against your head. she'd walk away chuckling, throwing a smirk at you over het shoulder.

truth is, ellie didn't know how to get your attention any other way, and she needed it. it killed her inside to know she was hurting you, but she just wanted to see your pretty face acknowledge her.

at night, while the moon's blanket was wrapping you in sleep, she'd be ranting to dina or jesse about how much she wanted you to like her back. she was hopeless. they'd always respond with "well, she's never going to be into you if you keep treating her like that."

she'd just huff and roll over in her bed to face the wall. she knew dina and jesse were right. she treated you like that because she knew she'd crumble if she couldn't interact with you anymore, but she couldn't bring herself to show you that vulnerable part of herself. as far as she knew, you weren't even into girls. she was afraid of rejection. not just any rejection, though. she was afraid of being rejected by you.

one, dreary friday night, dina dragged her to some party in the basement of some local. it was a smaller gathering, maybe two dozen people. when she walked in, the smell of weed and alcohol hit her immediately, pulling her through the door and slamming it shut behind her. the music and laughter immediately sucked her in.

she made rounds with dina, grabbing a drink and saying hi to the few people she knew. she had to physically stop her jaw from dropping when she saw you, holding a blunt, legs thrown over some random girl's lap.

dina slammed into her back when she stopped, spilling her drink all over the side of ellie's white t-shirt. "fuck, dina," she said, looking at the damage.

"just go to the bathroom and-" dina paused when she saw what had stolen ellie's attention. "oh, shiiiiit," she breathed out a laugh. "well, that's settled then. anyways, just go scrub it out. it'll be fine."

dina left ellie to go find her other friends. ellie's eyes burned holes in your face as you tugged the smoke in, blowing it out and then blushing at something the girl sitting in front of you had said. she was clearly flirting with you.

your eyes caught ellie's, your brows furrowing a little at the expression on her face. she broke eye contact, shaking her head before finding the bathroom.

she sighed as her fingertips pushed open the door, reaching for the lock after shutting it behind her. she cursed when she realized the lock was broken.

she gripped the edge of the counter as she stared into her reflection. she looked miserable, brows knit together and a scowl on her face. she huffed as she slid her shirt off, leaving her in just a bra. she located the stain and began to scrub furiously with wet tissue, to no avail.

her head snapped towards the door when she heard it click open, readying to cuss whoever it was out. she didn't expect you, slack jawed, to be standing with your back to the door.

"shit! sorry, oh my god," you said as you turned to leave, face and neck turning red.

"wait!" ellie said before she could think. she cleared her throat, "it's fine. it's not a big deal."

you turned back to face her, eyes drifting to her hands holding the shirt over the sink, trying not to look at her body (god, it was hard).

you pointed at her shirt timidly, "want some help?" you said, shuffling your feet, eyes still apologetic.

she looked back and forth between you and the shirt for a few seconds. "by all means," she said, tossing you the shirt and leaning back against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest.

you moved to the sink, grabbing some tissue and wetting the shirt itself where the stain sat. you opted for gentle, deep scrubs instead of ellie's frantic, aggressive scrubbing. your fingers drew the stain out impressively.

"wow. not too bad, pretty girl," she said, grabbing her shirt from your hands.

"pretty girl?" you breathed. "since when?"

she just laughed it off. her fingers felt the fabric where the stain had been, still slightly damp. she noticed that your eyes were raking over her exposed skin, smoothing over her toned stomach and arms, pupils blown.

"like what you see?" she said, smirking. you bit your lip and looked away, flushing even more. she grinned, "tell me, pretty girl."

you avoided her eyes, "...yeah. fine, yes."

she hummed, taking a step closer to you. she held her shirt up in front of you. "should i even bother putting this back on, then?"

you looked up at her, noticing just how close she was. you could feel her warm breath on your lips, making you dizzy. it was so wrong, feeling like this for the girl who had made your life hell for so long. but you couldn't ignore the warm, sticky feeling growing between your thighs.

she backed you up further, so you were caged between her arms against the door. her eyes flickered between yours and your lips, leaning in, ever so slowly. you closed your eyes when she kissed you, whining into it. it was soft, delicate.

she cupped your face as her tongue licked into your mouth. your hips bucked up on instinct, telling her you wanted more. you pressed her against you before she pulled away.

"you want me, baby?" she said. you nodded fervently. "good, cause i want you."

her hands squeezed your hips, turning you around and pulling your back flush to her front. her fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off. "can i?" she said, hands ghosting over the cups of your bra.

"yes, ellie. please."

she pulled the cups down so your breasts spilled out. her mouth found your neck as she gently playing with your hardening nipples, you moaning at the sensitivity.

she continued sucking marks into your neck, soothing them with her tongue afterwards. her hands slowly crept down to the waistband of your pants, sliding them down to your knees.

she grabbed your hips once again and positioned you right in front of the bathroom mirror, all so you both could see everything she did to you.

"i want you to watch me, baby," she whispered into your ear, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

you moaned when her hands ghosted over your clit through your damp panties.

"stop teasing," you said.

she hummed, "you're right. i've been waiting long enough."

she pushed your panties to the side, fingers sliding through your cunt and collecting your slick. "so wet for me already."

you moaned as her middle finger pressed into your drenched hole, slowly working deeper inside of you. she moaned at the feeling of you squeezing it.

"feels so good," you said, throwing your head back against her shoulder. her other hand came to your jaw, forcing you to watch her actions in the mirror.

"eyes on me, baby."

her finger worked deeper, the sounds of your slick filling the air obscene.

"need more," you whined, half-lidded eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

she hummed as she dipped her ring finger in next to her middle finger. you gasped at the small stretch, cunt clenching around her fingers deliciously.

a smirk sat permanently on her pretty lips as she worked in and out of you, your juices dripping down her wrist.

"such a slut," she whispered in your ear. "can feel you squeezing my fingers baby. want another one?"

"yes! yes, please ellie!"

"alright, pretty girl," she said, adding her index into your puffy hole. you began to feel the knot forming tighten, sending a rush of heat through your entire abdomen.

"fuck! ellie, gonna cum. gonna— ohhh," you moaned. her mouth covered yours to swallow your moans.

as you came down, ellie nuzzled her face into your neck, gently pulling her fingers out. you met her eyes in the mirror and watched her as she brought her fingers up to her lips, sucking on your sweet juices. she moaned around her digits, savouring the taste.

your pussy clenched even more at the sight.

she moaned, "taste so good, baby. now, let's get out of here so i can really taste you, yeah?"

part 2

let's pretend i don't hate this

permanent taglist: @winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

ellie taglist: @chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz @pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams tlou 2 #tlou #tlou 2 #the last of us #the last of us 2

2K notes · View notes

scarleart · 2 years ago

Text

₊˚ ━☆* just had a random thought, what about gf!ellie fucking you while you have a little cold. i can’t shake this thought away lmfao.

ellie would be knuckles deep in your pussy. your mouth hanging wide open, spewing out raspy mewls and rugged quick breaths as she finger fucked you so deliciously.

she had practically begged to make you feel good, since she seen how miserable you been lately with this sudden cold. she just wanted her girl to feel good and relax, take your mind off the tiredness and fatigue of your body.

every time you sniffled, ellie would quirk the sides of her lip’s up softly. finding you so damn adorable, her fingers picking up it’s pace in your gummy walls. curling them up and groaning when she felt how fucking wet you got.

“mmphn- ellie” you whimpered out to the beautiful freckle faced girl, grabbing onto her wrist to try and keep yourself grounded. at the cry of her name, ellie looks at your features. she could tell you were sick, the sheen and the puffiness that accustomed your face told the story all day long. that and the scrunches of pleasure written across your face make you the most perfect little thing. she smirked softly, deciding not to tease you even though it’s practically in her blood to do so. you were already suffering enough.

“yeah? what is it, babe” her low, sympathetic voice was so fucking sexy. it was the fuel to your goddamn fire.

“it feels s-so, good. baby, please-“ at your croaked whines ellie shushes you, her free hand rubbing at your swollen clit, unable to contain the sweet smile etching her face at the sounds you were making for her.

“shh, i got you baby. gonna make you feel real good, didn’t i tell you that? hm?” ellie asks, looking for an answer. her fingers so sloppy from your wetness, the sound echoing around the whole room.

you nod your head with a whimpered yes leaving you, answering her question. seeing ellie nod with a slight pout, she was so mocking you but she couldn’t fucking help herself.

and what suddenly happened next, made you want to fall deep into the mattress and suffocate.

you sneezed , you fucking sneezed.

and ellie was there watching your face steadily, seeing the exact moment where the sneezed came upon you. she watched the whole thing happened right in-front of her. you sniffled and swipe over your nose with the back of your hand before completely covering your face at the sounds of ellie hearty laughs and low chuckles.

“ellie! stop” you whined, sounding like a bratty child that didn’t get their way. ellie gives you a big kiss on your cheek while still laughing in shock, her fingers leaving from inside of you to rub your slick over your pussy before paying attention to your sensitive nub. making it her mission to make you cum all over her.

“god, i swear you’re the cutest fucking thing i’ve ever seen”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x reader #ellie x reader fluff #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams smut #tlou smut #nsfw.ren

3K notes · View notes

kiss-me-muchoo · 5 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: i think i’m finally clean || part two: HERE

summary_ after a failed desperate attempt from Joel to get you back, you go missing while doing patrol, which leads to the Millers having to go and find you.

warnings_ age gap! (not specified tho), angst, fluff, ANGST, emotionally constipated Joel!, lots of apologies, mostly Joel’s POV

notes_this was supposed to be 1989 related like part one but I love Suki’s new album so much and it’s so Joel Miller coded, Legendary is all I played while creating this.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚)

♪ ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙋𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀

…

How could there be a disco ball in the room? Who found it? And where?

You weren’t expecting much from the Halloween party in Jackson to be honest. But turned out to be full of people with mid-costumes made by the first thing they could come up with. At a long table, you could spot a jar of fruit punch, some simple pastries, and snacks.

Some music was playing as many couples danced on the improvised dance floor. You only stared as you drank some alcohol your friend Lia sneaked in.

“Hey, love your outfit,” Sally says, a friend of yours who also worked in the gardening business of Jackson with you.

“Thanks, Sally. I also love yours” She has a crimson dress with her old usual boots and some fake blood everywhere, made with berries and pomegranate juice. You know because you helped her out with that.

“It’s been ages since I saw so many people gathered. Not even on Christmas” You nod, although you hadn’t lived in Jackson long enough like her.

“I guess Halloween really is that time of the year” she laughs and offers you a gentle smile.

“Hey… I’ve heard Joel has been trying to talk to you”

“I’m not in the mood to handle him or his bratty little girl right now…” Sally laughs even harder at your words. But you’re being serious. For a whole night, you don’t want to think about Joel and Ellie. They are around, you saw once the man talking with Tommy, helping him to drag some trash cans. The girl on the other hand was barely talking with a girl who looked around her age.

“Perhaps… but it’s so hot of him to keep trying with you,” she says and you scoff shrugging.

“You made it sound like he wants to seduce me”

“He may be…”

“No. Oh my God, no, Sally.” You say crossing your arms. Completely missing the pair of eyes that were fixated on you.

“You spent months with him and Ellie in the wild. I swore you were a family when you arrived here the first time”

“I used to think we were a family too. But that’s long forgotten. I’m good right now. Without them…”

Sally doesn’t push it anymore. But she thinks you’re trying to ignore your emotions. And she can’t judge you, she saw how Joel treated you the day of the vegetables.

“Let’s just forget about it, I’m in the mood to dance.” You add, dragging her and improvising some lame dancing along the 90s music playing.

…

Your vision is spinning. The lights that made the party feel like a real disco now seem to be violent faded dots. But you don’t feel sick, you feel light.

It’s nearly past midnight. And there’s still a lot of people in the party. All of the kids of Jackson have been long ago finished with the trick or treating. Sally found a guy to spend the night with and you told her to enjoy but also be careful.

And so you’re also ready to call it a day. You got dressed for Halloween ever since the outbreak. You witnessed a big party, you kissed two guys for fun and you were drunk as hell.

You couldn’t recall another day as happy as that Halloween.

When you almost trip when going down the stairs of the dining hall, you have to sit on them, laughing.

For some seconds, you can see the blurred image of the bright yellow moon. It’s a cold night, but nothing near freezing.

“…y/n?” You hear a male voice calling you.

It was Joel.

“Not tonight, Joel.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I don’t give a shit, I can stand and make it home,” you say calmly. Although you’re drunk, you still feel very conscious.

“I’m takin’ you home” Joel barely grabs your arms when you squirm away from him, standing up immediately.

“For fucks sake, Joel. I want you away from me. A-W-A-Y… GET AWAY FROM ME!” He was taken aback. And there was nowhere to hide his feelings. Joel had been painfully hurt by your words. Even when he had heard the same hours ago, this time hurt even more.

“All of your friends say you keep avoiding the way you feel. Why can’t you just let me speak then you can ignore me the rest of your life?” He shouldn’t be arguing back when you’re drunk. He really shouldn’t.

“Because I’m not interested in whatever shit you will say. You never gave me the chance to speak back then… Remember?…” you say dragging every word with a vague look that only confirms how drunk you are.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I’m sorry. To Ellie, to me… you are family.”

Your eyes prickle with tears.

Suddenly you’re sober. Your brain works perfectly fine. So you cry.

Joel sees the first tears rolling down and he sighs. He couldn’t comprehend your side of the story because you were excluding him and Ellie. But he wanted to be in your life again. He was a man who had changed so much after Salt Lake.

Joel was open to being vulnerable, just for you.

His body moves closely, attempting to embrace you in a hug. Or at least touch you.

But you move away.

“I need time…” you say before walking away with weak steps but a confident pace.

You don’t dare to look back. The way home is more quiet than silence itself. You block every thought regarding Joel while you wash your hair in the shower. And you are even scared to think about it as you light the candle on your nightstand.

…

Two weeks without any contact with the little Miller family pass by. Ellie sees you in the garden and picking vegetables to send to the kitchen and the rest for livestock or as fertilizer. She also saw you once in the dining hall with your friends laughing and gossiping. And the young girl couldn’t help but think she hadn’t seen you laugh like that. Not ever since you and Joel used to mess with Ellie about the dirty tee shirt she always wore.

Joel goes to your house one night and spots you outside, taking care of your plants, humming some songs, and wearing pajamas. He stood there in the shadows like a creep for more minutes. He looked carefully at how you sat on a patio couch you had near your door and got into the book you pulled out.

Joel reminisced the night Ellie and he had a hateful dinner. They recalled the moment they met you some miles away from Boston. And by the end of the memory, when you told them you were staying in Jackson instead of going with them to the Fireflies in Salt Lake, Ellie snapped. The girl and Joel briefly argued, blaming each other for treating you so bad. But soon Ellie made Joel say three precious words.

He loved you.

And seeing you alone, in your home, almost a year after taking separate ways, only made Joel desperate to feel worthy of your affection.

…

The Miller brothers carried heavy piles of carved wood for a new library the men had built during the summer. Joel and Tommy never lost their contractor’s touch. They beautifully worked so well that ended up giving advice to the younger ones. It was a normal day. That morning a group left to patrol as usual. Others prepared the food of the day. Others refurbished the town. The kids went to school. Everything was normal. Joel was pulling splinters out of his left hand, ready to go home. Ellie discovered the new guitar Joel got, so she seemed curious about the instrument.

His home smelled like cedar and burnt wood. Joel rolled his eyes, watching how Ellie forgot to wash the dishes again. But he was tired, he went straight to take a shower and soon landed on his couch. His muscles relaxed and he closed his eyes for a minute.

Which turned into two hours.

“JOEL!” Ellie yells on his face, waking him up.

“What the fuck, kid?”

“Tommy is here, y/n didn’t come back with her patrol group.” His eyes opened wide as soon as he heard the girl.

“What?”

“She’s missing…” Ellie sounded scared, even anxious. Joel immediately got the chills. He sighed and quickly stood up, ignoring the way his back cracked.

In the kitchen, Tommy sat, looking stressed out.

“What happened?” Joel crosses his arms, already losing his patience.

“Patrol was coming back when some raiders attacked them. It was y/n who gained time for the group, and said she would follow soon, but she didn’t” Joel sighed once again.

“How long ago?” Ellie asked timidly.

“Almost three hours ago…” Joel huffs. Angered at his brother, he gave the table a slight slap.

“Why you didn’t tell me sooner?” Tommy tried to calm him down. The whole reason why he avoided his older brother was because he would get stressed. He had hoped that the other groups that went out to find you would come back with great news.

“The group is almost back but now news so far…”

“I’ll go to find her…”

“I said we’ve already sent people around the area…” Tommy says, but Joel rolls his eyes, putting on his boots. Unbeknownst to Tommy, his last resource was Joel. And deep down, he disapproved of the age gap between you two, but he wanted nothing but your happiness and Joel’s.

“Tommy. I’ll go find her.”

“I’m coming too” Ellie quickly says.

“No. You stay here.”

“Joel. I won’t be able to sleep knowing you could be out there alone. Even worse if she’s hurt or…”

“Don’t say it…” Tommy pleads with the girl, so she nods.

Joel’s heart pounds in his ribcage. He is scared, to be honest. And he wants nothing but to grow wings so he can quickly find you.

“Is there any place you haven’t checked?” Joel asks, putting on his jacket. Ellie opens the closet near the entrance and grabs her and Joel’s emergency backpacks.

“There’s a cabin only Maria, the meds, and council know about…” Tommy reveals.

“And y/n too…”

“Yes, Ellie. It’s only for emergencies, hidden near a cliff, where the bushes grow wilder and perfect to disguise raiders and infected.”

“Where is the cabin exactly?” loading his rifle and grabbing more bullets, Joel asks to his brother.

“About an hour away from here. If you go now, you’ll make it before the night falls. I’ll check it in a map…” the man grabs the paper from his pocket, marking a red circle around the green area.

“There’s a lot of apple trees near the area. We collect from there every fall, once you start seeing rotten apples in the way, you’ll know you’re very close” Tommy says.

“Remember. We have a periwinkle ribbon hidden in the bushes. That’s the entrance. Be careful, Joel. And good luck, to the three of you…”

At that moment, Joel realized he would find you in a bad position or a terrible one he didn’t even want to imagine it.

But he was full of fate.

“She’s alive. Right, Joel?” Ellie asks once the gates of Jackson opened and the pair left in two horses.

“Of course she’s alive…” he confidently replies. But the pounding of his heart made him conscious of the anxiety he was feeling.

…

The woods howl with every sound of the wind pushing dry leaves around. So far Joel hadn’t used a single bullet. The way was clear. Only the fainted sounds of the waterfalls and the eco of the cliffs.

There were indeed a lot of apple trees. With the sun almost gone, the burgundy spheres hanging from the trees looked even more majestic.

“I guess we’re here…” Joel announced, putting his feet on the ground.

“Look for the periwinkle ribbon, Joel” the man nodded.

Sneaking his hands through the bushes, he could feel some thorns. At first glance, those bushes looked very intimidating. As if poison would suddenly leak from their tiny white flowers.

“Found it!” Joel didn’t get it, but when he tried to pull the ribbon, he lifted a whole branch attached to it.

“Holy shit!” Ellie gasped surprised to see that the bushes were actually very light.

“The horses can make it inside too. You go first…” Ellie nods, taking the lead.

Then followed Joel, leading his horse inside the property and then making sure the ribbon was completely hidden.

The Cabin was small, rustic, and surrounded by the same bushes and big rocks. It was strategically positioned where the pines and apple trees could disguise it.

“She’s here. Look…” Ellie says, pointing at your backpack and a rifle thrown on the stairs of the cabin.

“Stay back…” he indicated, firmly holding his rifle in case of anything.

Both went up the stairs and were notified the door was barely closed as if they had been in a rush. Joel opened the door slowly and when the view was granted, he saw you on the floor pointing at him with a small pistol.

“It’s okay, it’s just me and Ellie,” he said dropping and rifle and literally running towards you.

“Joel?” You ask looking at his barely distinguishable silhouette.

“I told you once. Don’t go where I can’t follow, darlin’…” he says, but you can’t hear him.

Ellie finally saw you and noticed you were sweating so much, panting for air. The skin of your neck looked between pink and lilac. For some seconds, she thought you had been bitten.

“You can’t breathe,” Joel noticed when you literally dropped your head against the wooden floor.

“J-Joel… My- ribs. It hurts…” you barely spoke and tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hand grasped his and didn’t want to let go.

“Shh… we’re here. I’m gonna take care of you”

Respectfully, Joel tore your long-sleeved top. You had a silk bra that looked very vintage but that wasn’t capturing all of Joel’s attention.

You had indeed swollen ribs. Your right side looked awful in comparison to the left one. There was also a small cut in your shoulder, but your ribs were painted in shades of red, purple, and blue.

The man turned to see the girl standing at the door. Ellie couldn’t hide it, she seemed scared, her eyes slightly teary.

“No tears, she’s gonna be okay. Now help me with the remedies and medicine we have” she nodded.

By the time Joel had finished putting ointments and giving a local spraying of anesthesia, you had completely fallen asleep. Ellie helped him to put a bandage around your ribs and the man carried you to a room that had a bed.

Joel took a brief glance at you and sighed in relief. You were alive, and your chances of survival were big. He just had to take care of you. Like he should have since the first time.

…

You wake up violently, quickly trying to sit down because you can’t remember anything. Your last memory was the raiders shooting and hitting you with his rifle, throwing you off of your horse.

“Hey, easy there!” you immediately stop, encountering Ellie beside you.

One thing was for sure; you felt amazing compared to the day before.

“What are you doing here?” She sighed.

“Patrol came back and you were missing. Since nobody could find you, Tommy suspected you were here. So Joel and I came…” your eyes closed in embarrassment. Blurred memories of them stepping inside the cabin, you pointing at them, telling Joel how bad you were in pain, and Ellie helping him to bandage you.

“Thank you.” She nods, but her lips get sealed, like she wants to say more but she’s unsure.

“I’m sorry.”

“You were the closest thing I had like family and Joel and I fucked up everything,” Ellie says looking away.

“When we’re grieving the past, we get so scared to mess up our present. Which makes us mad and terrified.” You tell her with a little smile.

And you also talk to yourself, because you were so hurt by how they treated you that it made you feel scared of getting hurt again by them.

“Joel said you needed time. But do you think you already have an answer about us being friends ever again?”

You can’t make a teenager beg for your forgiveness. Every single person you know has suffered. All have sacrificed something. And you didn’t want to grow old alone.

“Come here…” you tell her and in less than a second you have Ellie hugging you tightly.

“Wait… my ribs” she breaks off the contact, looking scared.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I-“

“Ellie, it’s okay…” you smile at her and she reciprocates it.

“Where’s Joel?”

“Patrolling around. She already signaled to Tommy we were fine. He also went to get something to eat. There’s nothing of food besides the bread and water we brought.”

“Oh…”

“Joel can be an asshole. After all, we both know him so well. But… give him a chance, please” Your smile grows. It makes you blush because Ellie sounds like she’s implying Joel had feelings for you.

Ever since you met him, you developed a crush on him. But he was a grumpy old man, he never showed any sign of romantic attraction towards you.

“I could give him a chance, but I think everyone has misinterpreted the way he feels for me,” you say, remembering how Sally implied the same time during the Halloween party.

“You know how Tommy looks at Maria?” You nod at her.

“That’s the same way Joel looks at you. And I’ve never experienced it, but I know that must be love”

Was the girl in the correct?

…

It’s already late when the need to get out of bed gets stronger. You took a very careful shower, and with every droplet of cold water that washed you, you also repeated every word Ellie said. You could easily admit you loved Joel. Even after everything. Because was there in the harder days out in the wild. You were a stranger he also carried wherever he was going. And always reminded you how strong you were.

“Ellie!” The girl appeared with her hair also wet.

“Can you help me go downstairs?. I want to help you with dinner” you said.

Ellie carefully grabbed your hands to help you stand from the bed. As soon as she opened the door, the smell of apples and cinnamon hit you.

“What are you cooking?” You asked her.

“Just apples with honey and cinnamon…”

“Smells really good, Ellie” she thanks you, paying extra attention as you walk down the stairs.

Just when you make it safely. The front door opened. Joel came in with a dead rabbit in his hands.

“You’re awake…” he said surprised.

“I am…” you reply feeling your face burn in red.

“How are you feeling?” He asks scratching the back of his head.

“Better. Thanks to both of you”

“It’s nothing”

Ellie can’t stop looking between you and the man. She has a little dorky smile and her heart beats in hopes you two can solve your problems.

“Can I skin that rabbit?” You ask him shyly. He looks down at the rabbit and then back at you.

“Let me do that. But if you feel okay, you can cook it” You nod, offering him a brief smile that takes him aback.

“Okay. I’ll wait for Ellie in the kitchen.”

Joel is shocked. Ellie has to go and pinch his ribs to take him down to earth again.

“Don’t mess it up.” She says.

“What?”

“I think we’re okay now. Talk to her tonight, please” he sighs but nods.

“Joel?” The girl asks.

“Hmm?”

“I think y/n feels the same way about you. But she doesn’t think you do.”

His heart beats softly but hurriedly. Joel has to hide his smile as Ellie walks away into the kitchen.

…

Dinner was quiet. Some words were exchanged. Mainly about your accident. You explained how the raiders ambushed you and your group. After gaining time for your partners to leave, there was nobody left to save you. A man hit your head with his rifle, then your ribs. You fell from your horse and barely noticed when the raiders left. Your body dragged itself towards the cabin, where all of your energy disappeared and your Brian processed the pain.

Thankfully, you had two saviors. Joel and Ellie appeared and saved your life.

The plan was to go back to Jackson the following morning. You agreed as long as your health lets you. Ellie helped you go upstairs again as Joel cleaned the dishes. You said good night to the girl and went to brush your teeth. By fortune, you always carried first necessity items in your backpack.

There is no electricity in the upper rooms. But there are tons of bottles of wine, soda, and old glasses with half-melted candles. It made it a little harder while showering. But after feeling clean, relaxed, and lonely, it brings a sense of peacefulness.

In the mirror, you encounter a woman whose body is tired but her mind is starting to feel at peace. You have decided that if Joel came knocking at the door, you would let the past go and you would focus on the present.

But your hopes die a little when an hour passes and you are still alone in the room.

And just when you’re about to give up, you hear it.

A knock on your door.

You encounter Joel with the same clothes he arrived with. However, his hair is slicked back and wet from the shower he took. You remain silent as he stares closely at you.

“Can we talk?” The man asks.

“Okay…”

You let him step inside. Joel sits on the little couch that faces the bed, and both of you stare in silence. There’s a distant howling from coyotes or jackals near the area. But then, you only pay attention to Joel. He continuously moved his hands and tried to speak up but couldn’t.

“Ellie said you and her are okay,” he says and you nod, avoiding his gaze. You hear him sigh.

“If I had accepted sooner how important you are to me, I would’ve given you the whole night to tell me why you couldn’t come with Ellie and me to Salt Lake” he starts, bringing you back to the night where the doctor of Jackson told you your body was full of anemia. That if you went out to the wild again, you’d likely suffer a breakdown.

“I would’ve understood, I would’ve told you I’d be back. But I didn’t because… I guess I got scared, I was convinced you were abandoning Ellie. But mostly me… I got used to having you in my life. And thought you wanted to take separate ways as soon as you discovered you could have a better life in Jackson”

“I started to feel dizzy that day. If I hadn’t felt anything, I wouldn’t visited the doctor and I would have gone with you and Ellie” you admit looking at the melting candles.

Joel feels a little worse. But it only makes him even more eager to stand up and walk towards you.

You witness how he goes down to his knees with difficulty, knowing his bones are tired. It takes you aback when he grabs your hands and gives you the softest look.

“I’m sorry. For everything. When I saw you were back, so full of life and willing to keep explaining to us what happened, I kept acting like an asshole. That’s not what a man does to the woman he’s in love with…”

You quickly look at his eyes again, trying to see if what he said was true or not. He briefly smiled, tender to see the way you reacted.

“I probably won’t stop saying I’m sorry until I have you by my side every morning and every night. ‘Cause if want thing has thought me, Ellie, is that I have to express my feelings. So I’ll do it, I’m in love with you and I’m sorry”

You are near tears when he says that, Joel only squeezes your hands softly, but you break the contact only to pull him towards you in a big hug.

“The moment I saw you came with Ellie through the door of this cabin, I knew I didn’t want to lose my little family. I’ve been trying to be strong but the truth is that I need you, Joel” his cheek touches yours and you feel the warmth of his skin. Any trace of uncertainty is gone. Only he could have taken and brought back your happiness.

“I need you too, darlin’”

He kisses you, so soft, so simple. You barely pay attention to the rain that suddenly started pouring. Joel slowly stands up and you lean back on the bed. His kisses were addicting even when you just met them seconds ago. But you take the lead by moving your lips down south, marking traces on his chin, towards his jaw. It is there when Joel lets out the first moan. But he suddenly stops

“Wait, y/n, I don’t want to hurt you. Your ribs aren’t completely healed. And-“

“Joel… If I kept going, it’s because I can. And because I want to…” you say before capturing his lips in another kiss.

“Is Ellie asleep?” You add. Joel chuckles.

“You know she snores loudly. Listen…” Both of you remain quiet and the distant snores of the girl can be heard, which makes you giggle.

First, he undresses you and makes sure to heavenly explore your most intimate areas with his tongue. Then he takes off his clothes and worships your body in the most perfect way he could possibly do it.

“I love you, Joel” it spills out of your lips with honesty. Between thrusts and gasps for air, he makes time to answer you.

“I love you too.”

For the rest of the night, his hands are in your body. And until the morning, remain there…

….

The rays of the sun wake you up by directly targeting your eyes. But when you open them, they’re gone. Is a cloudy morning, and there’s a big pair of warm hands securely around your stomach.

The need to stretch is suddenly gone when you remember what happened last night. How good Joel made it clear you were the woman he wanted, his caresses, kisses, and everything. You can’t help but smile and snuggle closer to him.

“Mornin’…” Joel says with a raspy voice, without you noticing he had woken up.

“Hey…” you reply deciding to face him.

It feels odd to see an unworried Joel after months of being witness to his sleep deprivation, his inability to eat because he preferred to make sure you and Ellie did first, etc.

“Is there anything on my face? Or what’s with the starin’, sweetheart?” Your face goes hot, but there is no point in hiding your thoughts.

“I just… I never thought we would end up in this position. We were practically strangers once…”

“You said it, y/n. Once…” he replies, pulling you closer.

“I guess I’m just not used to this side of you…” Joel smirks, then chuckles. To be fair, he isn’t used to seeing you in such an intimate way. He knows there are many things left to learn from each other, but he knows nothing will change the way he feels.

“Look, after saying out loud how I feel about you… there’s nothin’ else to run away from, baby. I’m an old man who’s tired but feels like a teenager when it comes to you” Your heart melts from tenderness. You can’t help but kiss his chin.

“I’ll make sure to take care of you. There’s literally a whole life waiting for you, Joel. You’re not that old, dear” he smiles, nodding before resting one arm behind his head and the other snaking around you.

“Are we gonna tell Ellie?” You add, stretching on the bed.

“Let’s be real, she already knew before us.” Both of you laugh, smiling at each other like two idiots. The girl had constantly shared silly comments about you two being too close while dinner in the middle of nowhere, or how needy Joel looked about asking you to share a sleeping bag with him.

“She seemed excited about us talking…” Joel nods, sitting on the bed, stretching and making his bones crack a little.

“Glad we did more than talk” you gently push the man, making him chuckle a little.

“We should start heading towards Jackson by now…” you say looking that the sun was coming out again.

“Right. But… let’s say it one more time, please. So it’s… officially real” There was the insecure man you knew.

A little smile perks in your mouth as you crawl back towards him.

“We’re together now, wherever the tides take us…” he kisses you abruptly.

It was real. Coming back to Jackson meant closing a chapter, and starting a new one. And both of you knew it was going to be happier. And possibly… forever.

_______________________________________

Thank u to all the humans that waited almost A YEAR for this second part :)

Taglist:

@o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

@orcasoul

@liciafonseca

@wanniiieeee

@joelmillersblog

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel x reader #the last of us x reader

63 notes · View notes

pantheresssy · 8 months ago

Text

Spending Nights (Abby Anderson/ Reader)

Hello!

This is part 2 of ‘casual’! You can find part 1 in this masterlist! It took me so much time to write this but i did it, im rlly sorry, studying is making my creativity go away. Enjoy!!!

Synopsis: Your friendship with Ellie becomes stronger as you both get to know each other better. From the other side, Abby wasn’t dealing with this too well.

warnings: marijuana use (els), non graphic smut, too much abby and not much of els, angst angst, getting into toxic!abby.

“It smells like shit,”

Blowing the smoke on the air and, for consequence on your face, Ellie looked at you with a smirk. Her eyes were blurred and couldn’t stay in the same place for too long, in a trance with the sensations of marijuana. “But it makes me so fu-cki-ng good. Try.”

You pushed her hand away from your face and twisted your nose, feeling that the smell would make you sick and stick to your hair and clothes. You were in her dorms, with the notebook where she writes her songs open on your lap. Somewhere in the middle of your reading, you discovered a few more things she wrote. Small poetry’s. Most of them were sad, about unrequited loves, death, sadness of abandonment and the loss of a parental love. They were tragically tragic, but still beautiful.

Ellie looked over your shoulder, following your reading. Smiling when you turned your page to see the sweetest song you had ever come close to. She was a real talent, just like you had imagined when you first meet her. “I’ll write one for you.”

“If it’s as good as this one, I’ll say please.” She made a face and leaned back on her seat, taking the marijuana into her mouth.

Ellie blowed and talked at the same time. “This is the worst I’ve written since I started.”

You dismissed her words, outraged by what she had said. When you told her it was the ‘best one she had so far’ she looked a bit offended and gave you a full list of why it was her worst composition. Ellie explained to you all of her creative work and, by the end, you thought you knew more about songs than about your own classes. It was interesting seeing how her eyes shone and her voice became more happy. You could see that she really loved doing what she did.

When you went back to your doorms, not long after, you did with a smile. She really was a great friend, person, and writer. It was curious for you how she gad opened up about what she liked so quickly after knowing you for barely a whole week. But it was good.

The rest of your day, you enjoyed with one of your many books. Laying in bed with it on your chest, being dragged by the words. That’s why, when a knock sounded on your door, you opened it without checking who it was. Thinking it could be Dina — (or Ellie) — you never looked away from the page you were reading, only finding out who truly was when she spoke for the first time.

“Can we talk?” Abby said. At that moment, you regretted not asking who it was first. It’s been days since you last saw her, and you would be laying to yourself if you say that this wasn’t broking your heart even more, but you tried to ignore.

Holding your breath, you swallowed hard before answering: “No. I… I’m not in the mood for talking right now.” Deep down you wanted it, so when you kept talking, you wanted to slap yourself. “Maybe later.”

Abby stepped closer when you make a move to close the door, quickly trying to stop you. And it worked. “I saw you at the party.” There it comes. “Who is she?”

You raised an eyebrow. She had no right to be there questioning you, as if she deserved something. “I’m surprised you went, you never liked those things.” A small pause, “But I guess I should’ve had imagined, you have changed so much in a short time.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and you knew she was looking for what to say next. “Owen invited me”, And oh… oh.

Of course he did. You felt silly, a completely idiot. She never went with you when you asked, always making sure you knew how much she hated going to these things. But with him, that part never really mattered. “I’m glad he managed to change your mind.”

“He didn’t,” She said quickly. “I hated going there. You know this, Y/n. I… I hated even more when I saw you with her.”

An ironic laugh escaped you and you looked at the ground already feeling the tears filling your waterline, obstructing your vision. Abby was the proudest person you had ever seen and, when she said that, you realized that she was there not because she missed you, or because she wanted to apologize for everything she did, but for some jealousy of seeing you with someone other than her. You had to mourn her for the time she thought it was necessary, waiting until she wanted to come and talk to you correctly. Like at that moment.

It was a cycle that she had created and you couldn’t leave. On other occasions the same had happened, but not like that, with a fight so big as that one. You two have never been more than a few hours without talking to each other, and it’s been a long time.

You started poking your thumb, an attempt to keep everything you felt inside you through the soft pain. “You don’t own me any explanations.”

Abby denied. “I do, yes.“

“Look…” You started, letting transpire in your voice and face how tired you were of going around so many times, only to ended up in the same place. “We had the same conversation that day, you said what you wanted to say, what you felt-“

She interrupted you. “I didn’t.”

“So i am asking you to leave.”

As the last word came out of your mouth, you saw her posture fall. She looked sad, worried and younger, totally vulnerable and open for you. And you hated that you felt yourself softening. “Abby,”

She reached out for you and took your hand. You felt the urge to pull off her grip, but gave up in the last second. “Give me one chance.”

Swallowing, you watched as her fingers went to the inner part of your pulse, and you squeezed your eyebrows together. She was close, so close and God, it was good to feel her there. Your walls and anger were down as soon as she stepped even further after seeing your reaction, her lips touching yours.

And you did no move to push her.

Abby was fully inside of your room and closed the door with her feet while her hands gripped your wrist. You joined your lips more to hers, sighing heavily when you realized that you would not be able to let her out, even if you fought with all your strength against your will. Your arms wrapped around her neck and you two walked blindly to your bed, you sitting on the end while she was still standing in front of you, her back bent the kiss wouldn’t end. And you moaned, a sound that came from the back of your throat that seemed so desperate, wanting. But Abby smiled in enjoyment — (and proud).

Your shirt quickly came out of your body, then the rest of your clothes. She pulled you to the middle of the bed and started to kiss, lick and grope each part of you she could reach. Your noises only got louder, this time being followed by hers. And when her fingers went inside you, touching that spongy place that made you see stars, you felt your body shake with goosebumps. You couldn’t deny it anymore, you loved her and loved the way she made you feel.

You were lost on the fog of your orgasm, your mouth was open, trying to catch air for your lungs. She fell at your side on the bed, one of her arms supporting her head while the other supported yours. With the corner of your eye, you could see the smile she held and turned for her, placing your hand on her chest. You could regret it later, being so close to her, so open, letting yourself go so easily. But at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything else but being with her like that for the rest of your days. That’s why, when the words came out of your mouth, you didn’t stop them.

“I missed you,”

She hummed, taking your chin and pulling you into a light kiss. “Me too.” She said. “It was a torture, being away from you and seeing you with… Ellis… Ellie?”

You licked your lips, feeling her taste. “Ellie. Dina introduced us at that party. She’s great. She showed me the songs she writes today.”

Abby’s face fell into something darker, heavier. Jealousy shone back on her and you sank your nails on her skin, trying to pull her back. You knew that if you allowed it, that moment would turn into a discussion just like the other day or worse. She was territorialist and you hated it, especially after having fought with you because of your jealousy and insecurities. “I don’t like her.”

“Do you like anyone?” You asked, fun shining in your eyes and voice.

She kissed you one, two, three times. “You.” With her statement, you smiled big. Abby stroked your cheek, whispering her next words: “Just… can you stay away from her? For me, please.”

Just like that, your expression twisted in a grimace. “That’s why you’re here? To fuck me and try to say with who you want me to hangout with?” You got up and started to put your clothes back on. “Get out, Anderson.”

She faced you. “She clearly wants you, Y/n.” You laughed indignantly. “I won’t let her fuck with you.”

“Like you did that day? She won’t do it, Abby. And you know why? Because Ellie doesn’t hide what she feel, she doesn’t yell and curse when a problem pops up.” Your chest gasped with your words said in one breath. “Leave, now. You’ve stayed too much already.”

You pointed to the door, lowering your head and listening to her wear her clothes. Abby walked up to you and stopped in front of you. “I fucking tried to do this better. You can’t blame me now.”

How much you hated that situation, to be dragged by those words. The pain you felt before was nothing compared to the one you felt at that moment. “That’s all that matters to you, isn’t it? Making me feel bad so you can go over me?”

“I fucking like you, Y/n! That’s why I don’t want you with her.” Her finger wrapped around a lock of your hair and gave a slight pull.

You walked away and rubbed your hands on your face. “And you show it by trying to put someone I like as a friend away? Just go, Abby.”

“I ain’t giving up on you.”

She left with one last look and you closed the door as soon as she passed through the threshold, sniffling when the tears fell and your body was shaken with strong hiccups. You felt nothing but stupid. You knew that at some point everything would go down, but you didn’t knew it would be so quick, — not after everything.

You really thought that things would settled down, after just a few minutes and a moment with her at the bed. You thought you would go back to spending nights with her, smiling and kissing. Abby could make a fool out of you so easily. Sometimes you think you might hate her.

And this is the end!

I really wish I could write more than 2k but at some point I just start to repeat words/expressions and I have a tick with this. Hope you had enjoyed this ride and be patient with me for part 3 plss it will come out! Thank you for all of your comments!! As always, I’m sorry for any mistake.

taglist: @pinkpanther-44, @elsmissingfingers, @sofi4v13, @bready101, @mattxxamryli.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #abby tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou 2 #tlou

118 notes · View notes

alloftheimagines · 2 years ago

Text

joel miller | left behind

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.9k

warnings: angst, angst, angst. so much angst. ep two spoilers. tess's death. grief. loss. infected stuff. reader is tess's younger sister. age gap. more angst. so much angst. slightly violent reader.

synopsis: in which joel honours a promise he made to tess that means he must force reader to leave your infected sister behind in boston. resentment and a bit of hurt/comfort ensues as you head to frank and bill's.

sibling!tess x reader, reader x joel, little bit of reader x ellie

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld

“Holy shit. She’s infected.”

You didn’t think the world could fall apart twice, but you look at Tess as Ellie's words settle in and realise you were wrong. Here you are again, losing everything. This time, you don’t know if you can survive.

“Tess…” you whisper, shaking your head slowly. “No. No. No.”

Beside you, Joel is deadly still. He looks at your sister with such detachment that you want to scream. This is Tess. Fucking Tess.

But you know him. You know he’s good at switching off when things get tough. Not like you. You wear your heart on your damn sleeve, and you can’t fucking do this. You look at her again, heart breaking. You feel every tear, every shard slipping through your ribcage. Tess is motionless — resigned. She wears sadness, but no fear. None anybody but you can see, anyway. You grew up with her. You can see the fading light in her eyes in a way the others won’t.

And you don’t know what to do.

“Let me see it,” Joel orders quietly.

“Joel…” Tess pleads.

“Show me,” he growls.

Bitterly, she tears down the collar of her shirt, revealing the infection blossoming across bruised veins. Your knees threaten to buckle, nausea rising in your throat.

“No.” Tears slip down your cheeks, and you’re already searching the room again for some hint the Fireflies might have left, some sign that it won’t end like this. “No. The girl is a cure. If we can just—”

Tess is saying your name. You’re not listening. If you listen, it will be real. If you listen, you will have to say goodbye to the only family you have left.

“Joel,” she’s saying now. “This kid… this kid is real, okay? You gotta get her, get them both, to Tommy’s. He’ll know where to go, what to do.”

“No. No, I’m not doing that,” he replies.

You’re still rattling around, searching old papers and nooks for something, anything; as though you’ll find a miracle in the shadows.

“If not for the kid then for her.” Tess’s voice rises. You squeeze your eyes shut, your back turned to her. “She needs you, Joel. This is the end of the road for me, but you need to keep going. Promise me."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you shout, throwing the first thing you find against the wall. It smashes to dust. “We’ll find a way out of this, Tess. We always fucking do. Let’s just stop and figure it out!”

“There is no figuring it out.” Tess marches over to you, gripping your face in her hands. You try so hard to fight it, so hard to stay in denial, but you look at her drawn face and know she’s already half-gone. You know the worry furrowing her brows isn’t for herself, but for you. For what will happen to you now. She practically raised you, toughening you up or else cradling you through the bad nights, never any in between. It made you both strong and so unbearably weak. Not like Joel, who has never let anything touch him.

You choke on a sob and close your eyes. “Please, Tess. Please. This can’t be it. I need you.”

“I need you. I need you to be safe. I need you to keep going. Please, sweetheart.” She softens, brushing the tears from your eyes. “Please. For me.”

“No—”

The sound of moans and the shuffling of uneven footsteps interrupt your protest. Joel goes to the window and curses, readying his gun. “Infected. Shit tonne of ‘em. We gotta go.”

You grab Tess’s wrist without thinking. “Come on.”

But she slips out of your grasp, stepping away from all of you. Ellie has tears in her eyes, but she says nothing, looking for the first time not to Tess or Joel, but to you.

“I can buy you some time, but you have to run. You have to go,” Tess whispers.

You shake your head again, ferociously this time. “No. No, I’m not leaving. If you stay, I stay.”

She snaps her head away. “Joel. Get her out of here.”

You fight back a bitter scoff, fists curling at your sides — but then hands lock around your arms, nudging you away. “Come on," Joel grunts. "We have to go. Now.”

The betrayal stings. This is fucking Tess. Of all people, he should want to help her. He shouldn’t be giving up on her.

You snarl, “Fuck you if you think I’m going anywhere!”

He doesn’t let up, face carved from stone. “We can’t stay,” he hisses, ducking his head to meet your eye. “You want us all to die?”

“You go! I’m not—”

“Now, Joel!” Tess is yelling. “Get her the fuck out of here now!”

He swears under his breath again and then his arms are like a vice around your waist, your feet lifting from the floor as he drags you away, kicking and screaming.

“No!” You’re shrieking now, vocal cords ripping apart as you try to reach for your sister. "Tess!"

But she doesn’t reach back. She turns away, and you know with certainty it’s the last time you’ll see her face.

“Tess, please!” Sobs erupt from you, and you fight harder now, but Joel is too strong, too broad, too heavy-handed to let you go. “Please! Please! Let me go! Let me stay with her! She's my fucking sister, Joel!”

The fresh air hits you all at once. One moment you’re there, watching your sister get smaller and smaller as infected scratch and rattle the doors, and then you’re back in the rubble of the drab city, the gold dome of Massachusetts State House dwindling.

And then exploding.

As your feet finally hit the floor and you try to nudge Joel away, the earth cracks with black smoke and you’re thrown to the ground. Joel’s warmth shields you, and you feel Ellie trembling at your side.

Silence blankets you like ash. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend it. Any of it.

You shove Joel to look back at the State House. The building that is no longer a building, just debris and fire.

The building where your sister was standing not a moment ago.

“No.” You say the word differently now. Softer. Devastation pierces through it, through you. She’s gone. Tess is gone.

“Darlin’...” Joel puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes, and fury sparks through you.

“You did this!” you scream, hitting his chest again, and again and again. “You took away my choice!” Because the truth is, you would sooner have died in there with Tess than carry on without her. “You took away my fucking sister!” Because he’d gotten her into the jobs, the smuggling. He’d done all of this.

Joel doesn’t react, barely even budging as you slam into him. His jaw is set, trembling, throat bobbing, and finally he catches your hands and locks his fingers around your wrists. “Look at me.”

You can’t. You can’t look at him, or anywhere else. You want to vomit. You want to disappear.

Instead, your chin wobbles and your ribcage opens up and everything pours out of you as you wail.

He catches you as you sink to the ground, pulling you to his chest, and you’re too weak to push him away now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, rocking you gently. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. There was nothing else we could do. Nothing else I could do. But look at me. Please look at me.” He grips your jaw just as Tess had, and you flinch. You hate him. You fist his shirt between your fingers and you want to destroy it, destroy everything around him.

Except you don’t. He’s all you have left, and the realisation makes you numb. Joel fucking Miller is the only goddamn person you have.

You do as he asks. You look at him.

“She bought us time," he says. "We can’t waste it now. Do you understand? We can grieve her later, but right now, we gotta go. We have to get up and keep going. For Tess.”

You hate that he’s right most of all. As you begin to shut down, shock taking over, you look back at the smoking State House and stand. And then you clutch Joel’s collar and bare your teeth.

Ellie stumbles towards you, eyes round with fear, but you’ve lost the will to care about her presence. You’ve lost everything today.

“Don’t you fucking say her name again,” you snap. “You lost that right. I blame you. I blame you for who she became, who we’ve all become.”

Anguish curls across Joel’s features, but you refuse to feel guilty. You let him go roughly and grab your backpack off the floor, the same one you’d clutched during the outbreak just after you’d watched your parents get savaged by your infected neighbours, Tess dragging you to safety. You’d been thirteen years old, and your sister had gotten you through hell and back, that night and every other one that came after.

“It shouldn’t have ended like this,” you whisper into the wind, swallowing your own tears.

It’s the last moment you allow yourself to have, and then you wipe your damp cheeks and glare down at Joel again.

“Get up. Let’s go.”

He does, looking winded as he rises from his knees to his feet. You allow him to lead the way only because he knows the city, knows his way around, far better than you did. Tess rarely let you do jobs out of the QZ, protective until the bitter fucking end.

You wish more than anything you could have protected her.

***

You don’t get the chance to catch your breath again until you get to Bill and Frank’s — which is empty. You never met them yourself, but you know Tess warmed to them, so to find them dead too… it feels like the last piece of good in the world is truly gone. You slump onto their couch still wrapped in numbness as Joel and Ellie gather supplies, reluctant to so much as look at you. Later, you hear them talking about showering, and Ellie thumps up the stairs, leaving the place quiet. You should wash, too. You should eat, drink, prepare for whatever comes next, but you can’t move. Can’t do anything.

After minutes, or perhaps hours, of silence, Joel kneels in front of you with a plate of food. “You need to eat, darlin'. I know it’s hard, but you have to.”

You hate him calling you that. He never used to call you that. He barely addressed you at all, stubborn, grumpy old man he is. But he’s been family for a long time, and the three of you…

You got by together. Until now.

You glance down at the food and your stomach turns.

“Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. It surprises you, that vulnerability bleeding into his words — and it seems to surprise him too, by the look on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Not once.

You take a bite for that alone. It’s dry in your mouth, and you find it hard to swallow, so you push the rest away. He sighs and puts it down on the coffee table, swapping the plate for his flask. You take a swig, whiskey burning like vinegar in your throat.

“If I talk,” he asks, “will you listen?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “No, I don’t feel much like listenin’, Joel.”

Still, he takes your hand. You glare at your intertwined fingers but make no move to pull away. Perhaps part of you still needs to be coddled, taken care of the way Tess might have.

And maybe you need to know you’re not alone. That he isn’t going to give up on you the way he so easily did with Tess. Which is sick, you know, but you’ve never much been able to help the way you feel about him. The way you have always wanted to peel away his layers and understand him. Tear away his self-hatred, guilt, grief, for whatever horrors he faced before.

“I didn’t want this. Not for Tess and sure as hell not for you.”

“I told you,” you bit. “I told you not to say her name.”

“I made a promise to her a long time ago.” He continued as though you hadn’t spoken, his brown eyes pleading. “I promised that if something happened to her, I would always protect you. That’s what I did today. I was honouring that promise, and honouring your sister. If you need someone to blame, someone to hate, if that makes it easier, go ahead. But don’t think for a second that this was a choice I wanted to make. I cared about her. I care about you. And even if I have to drag you kickin’ and screamin’, I’m getting you to Wyoming, to Tommy. You and I still have a job to do.” Slowly, as though unsure how you’ll react, he tucks your hair behind your ear. “That kid needs us, but we need her a hell of a lot more if the cure is real. And I… I need you. I need you here with me, safe. I ain’t losing another…”

He bows his head, words thickening. “I ain’t going back on my promise to Tess, so you can make it difficult as you like. You can never lay your damn eyes on me again. But I’m getting you through this.”

A tear drips down your cheek, your entire body trembling as the sorrow, the grief, finally takes over.

“Oh, baby,” Joel whispers, voice full of the same loss, the same pain.

A whimper escapes you as you put your head in your hands. You can’t even hate him now, because you can imagine your martyr of a sister asking Joel to do just that. To protect you above all else. Still, you despise it — despise that your choices were taken away, your voice ignored.

“I should have been with her,” you say. “She shouldn’t have died alone.”

“She died knowing you were being taken care of.” He squeezes your knee with rough hands. “She died knowing she saved us. It’s the best anyone could’a done. I wish it could have been different.”

“I don’t know how to do this without her,” you admit, because how can you keep it all in? All the love you had for her, all that grief… where will you put it when it’s spilling out of you without warning?

“That’s something we’ll figure out,” Joel responds. He’s drawing circles into your lower thigh now, the pad of his thumb wearing down your denim jeans slowly. Wearing you down slowly. “You should take a shower then see about finishing your food. That hot water… it’ll help. And I won’t be mad if you use it all before I get my turn.” He offers you a small smile.

But you can’t imagine anything ever helping. You close your eyes, sinking back into the couch. “In a minute. I just need…” You don’t know what you need. If you’re being honest, you need Tess.

As though knowing it, Joel rises, the couch cushions dipping with his weight beside you. He lets out a soft sigh, fidgeting with his fingers. You feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face.

A moment later, he’s draping a blanket over you, and your lids flutter open again in confusion.

“S’okay,” Joel says. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

You don’t need to be told twice. But when you try to nod off, you only see Tess burned on the inside of your eyelids. Her face the last time you saw it. The bite. Her pleas for you to go.

You give up quickly, aware Joel is still beside you, unmoving. It isn’t like him to not be moving.

Rubbing your face, you sit up, pushing the blanket off. “Joel…”

“Hmm?”

“Blaming you... it doesn't make it fucking easier. I understand why you did what you did, even if I don’t like it. But if you ever take away my choice again… I won’t go on with you. I can’t. I know you and Tess still see me… saw me,” you correct with a wince, “as a kid, but I’m not. Not anymore. And I sure as hell ain’t your responsibility.”

“I don’t see you as a kid,” he says quietly. “And I don’t see you as my responsibility, either. Honestly?” He purses his lips, tapping on the arm of the couch before he continues, “I see you as the only damn thing worth going out of my way to protect. Make of that what you will. Just… don’t expect me to let you die if that’s your choice. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I won’t apologise for it, either.”

You’re not sure what to say to that; what it means. Why Joel, of all people, is the one to say it. You always thought he and Tess…

“Why? That promise mean so fucking much?”

“Yeah." He looks at you as though for the first time. "Yeah, it does."

You don’t have the energy to wonder what it means anymore. Instead, you pull yourself up on unsteady feet. Your mind is racing, and that shower is sounding better as reality sets in. Just in time, Ellie returns with damp hair and fresh clothes. She offers a small, reassuring smile, and you ruffle her hair, feeling guilty that a fourteen-year-old was subjected to everything you went through in Boston. Whoever she is, whatever purpose people want her to serve… she’s just a kid, and you couldn’t hold it together for her today. That makes you a shitty chaperone.

“My turn,” you mumble, glancing at Joel a final, wary time before heading upstairs. His expression doesn’t change, but you see something new in it now. Something strange.

Something that looks an awful lot like care.

987 notes · View notes

followyourfleart · 1 month ago

Text

𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒇 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔

Chapter 6 -

Tommy's Christmas Party is exactly what you thought it was; long, talkative, and full of drinks. Attending to not hear his pleas anymore, you find comfort in talking and getting closer to your neighbors.

Word Count: 6.1 k

Previous/Next

“Welcome in! Here, let me take that from your hands…”

Tommy’s smile was infectious, pulling the corners of your lips into a reluctant grin. The cold had never been this brutal, and despite the thick layers of clothing you wore, the chill gnawed at you like teeth on bone. Your nose and cheeks were flushed from the frost, and every breath you exhaled formed a tiny cloud of vapor in the air. You were suddenly grateful that Tommy and Maria lived just across the street, not on the far side of the settlement.

He gently took the stew from your hands, his gaze flickering to yours in silent thanks before he inhaled deeply, savoring the rich smell. The warmth from the stew seemed to radiate from the pot, and for a moment, you wondered if you could somehow bottle that heat and carry it with you.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you muttered, your voice soft with a weary sort of gratitude.

You bent down to remove your shoes, feeling the relief of being indoors as your feet met the familiar warmth of a home. The fire crackled in the corner, offering a golden hue against the otherwise muted tones of the room.

As Tommy moved to set the stew on the counter, he grinned, clearly pleased. “Smells like Maria’s gonna be real happy with this one,”

The quiet buzz of the house felt comforting, the kind of noise that only comes from a place where people have settled into something familiar. It made sense as you heard the chatter of people coming from all the different places in the house, making it clear you made it just in time.

You stretched your legs, finally able to relax. As you were about to take a step closer to the fire, someone handed you a beer almost immediately. You look at it unappetizing but smile to the lady in thanks. The thought of alcohol at this moment did not feel good.

You made conversation, catching up with everyone else. Stories were shared, laughter mingled with the crackling of the fire, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in the warmth of the group. People pooled more in, causing you to take a step back, a small distance you preferred.

Someone mentioned a new supply run coming up, and the discussion quickly shifted to logistics. Voices overlapped as ideas were tossed around, but the details blurred together in your mind. You nodded occasionally, trying to follow the conversation, but your focus waned. The firelight danced over the faces around you, warm and flickering, but your attention drifted.

Then you heard her voice—clear, familiar, and unmistakably Ellie. It pulled you back like a tether, grounding you in the moment.

Excusing yourself from the lively group, you made your way toward her. Ellie sat slightly apart from the others, perched on a low stool near the edge of the room. Her head was bowed, and her fingers fidgeted with something small in her lap, the light catching on its surface.

“Whatcha got there?” you asked, leaning over her shoulder with a teasing lilt in your voice.

She flinched slightly, letting out a tiny gasp before whipping her head around to see you. For a moment, her expression was startled, her wide eyes flicking up to meet yours. But when she saw your smile, her posture relaxed, the tension easing out of her shoulders.

“Oh, hey,” she said, her lips curling into a grin that was still half-formed but genuine.

You took a moment to study her, noting the way she looked—bright-eyed and almost… carefree. There was a lightness about her tonight. She looked good, you realized, almost refreshed.

It was as if the day had been her own little slice of joy. Now, the warmth of the party felt like the perfect bow on top, wrapping it all together.

“What are you working on?” you asked, nodding toward her hands.

She hesitated for a beat, her fingers tightening around the object before holding it up for you to see. It was a small wooden carving, half-finished but already intricate in its detail. A tiny animal—maybe a fox or a wolf, though its features were still rough—emerged from the wood.

Ellie shrugged, a little shy but proud. “Just… something to keep busy.”

“Looks good. What’s it supposed to be?” you asked, tilting your head as you examined the carving. Its rough edges blended into soft curves, though its shape was… abstract, to put it kindly.

“A bear,” Ellie said, her tone confident, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh. A bear. You squinted at it, trying to see the resemblance, but all you could make out was a short, skinny, slightly menacing creature. It looked more like the kind of thing you’d stumble upon in the woods—the kind of animal that sent you scrambling back to your camp in a cold sweat. Terrifying thing it was.

“Well,” you said, biting back a grin, “I think that has to be the most accurate bear I’ve ever seen.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes at you, catching the hint of teasing in your voice. “Shut up,” she said, but she was smiling now, her face lighting up in a way that made her look years younger.

“I’m serious!” you insisted, throwing up your hands in mock surrender. “It’s got… personality. Fierce, wild, probably scares off all the other animals in the forest.”

“You mean it looks like nightmare fuel,” she muttered, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

“Hey, art is subjective,” you said with a shrug, leaning back on your heels. “Maybe it’s more of an interpretive bear.”

Ellie shook her head, still grinning. “You’re the worst.”

“Just trying to be supportive,” you shot back.

“You’re talking like a teacher again,” Ellie said, a sly smile spreading across her face.

You cocked an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “How do you talk like a teacher?”

She tilted her head, feigning deep thought, before replying with mock seriousness. “You know… all motivational and supportive. Like, ‘Oh, art is subjective,’” she mimicked in an exaggerated tone, even waving her hands for emphasis.

You snorted, crossing your arms. “So, what? Being supportive is a crime now?”

Ellie shrugged, her grin widening. “Not a crime. Just… teacher-y. You’ve got that thing where you’re trying to make me feel smart and good about myself without outright saying my bear sucks.”

You smirked. “That’s because your bear doesn’t suck.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but the light in them betrayed her amusement. “Whatever you say,

A comfortable silence settled between you as she worked, the muffled sounds of the party wrapping you in a quiet cocoon. You watched her hands move with a surprising amount of care for someone who could be so brash.

Her eyes flickered to the beer in your hands, a mischievous glint appearing as she glanced around the room. Then, with a conspiratorial tilt of her head, she asked, “Gonna give me some, or are you just gonna keep waving it around in my face?”

You scoffed, raising the bottle slightly and giving her an incredulous look. “Excuse you, Ellie? I’m not giving you beer.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “What? It’s nothing crazy. Just a sip. No one’s gonna know.”

“Oh, I think someone’s definitely gonna know,” you said, narrowing your eyes at her. “You’re 14, Ellie. I’m pretty sure the second you take a sip, it’ll show.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Ellie said, her tone earnest but with a playful glint in her eye.

You snorted, shaking your head as you cracked open the bottle. “Trust me, if you did, Joel would have my head immediately. Probably wouldn’t even wait until the party was over.”

Ellie smirked at that. “Oh, come on. He’d probably just lecture you to death.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head thoughtfully. “Hmm, maybe. But he’s got that look, you know? Like he could scare you into next week without even saying a word.”

Ellie laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, I know the one.”

You took a sip from the bottle and immediately grimaced. The beer was cheap, overly bitter, and cold enough to make your teeth ache. “Ugh,” you muttered, your nose wrinkling. “See? This is what you’re asking for? Bad beer at such a nice party?”

Ellie snickered, clearly enjoying your reaction. “That bad, huh?”

You held the bottle up like it was evidence in a trial. “Worse. Tastes like someone bottled piss and left it in the snow too long.”

She laughed harder, her shoulders shaking. “Okay, okay, maybe I don’t need a sip after all.”

“Smart choice,” you said. “Stick to Maria’s cider. That stuff’s actually good.”

Her face lit up at the mention of Maria’s cider, her grin spreading ear to ear. “Shit, speaking of that, I want my second glass!” she exclaimed.

Before you could say anything, Ellie dashed off toward the kitchen, weaving through the crowd with the kind of agility that only a teenager possessed. She sidestepped a couple deep in conversation, narrowly avoided bumping into Tommy, and ducked under someone’s arm as they gestured wildly mid-story.

You watched her go, shaking your head with a small smile. For all her sharp wit and stubborn streak, there was still something refreshingly carefree about her.

Taking another sip of your terrible beer, you glanced around the room. The party was lively, a mix of warm laughter and animated chatter filling the air. People leaned against walls or clustered around the table, sharing stories and drinks.

The announcement of food being ready sent the room into a frenzy. Like maniacs, people rushed toward the kitchen with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for survival instincts. The warm, savory smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spiced vegetables spilled out into the living room, only fueling the chaos.

You let the line form first, preferring to stay out of the rush. This led you to be at the back of the line, which snaked its way down the hallway and nearly out the front door. Arms crossed, you leaned against the wall and let out a quiet sigh, resigning yourself to a bit of a wait.

Behind you, Joel stood at the very end of the line, his arms crossed and an almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips as his eyes scanned the daunting stretch of people ahead.

“Looks like I’m not going to be the only person getting scraps tonight,” you joked, turning slightly to glance at him over your shoulder.

Joel’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk, though his expression still carried that ever-present weight of exhaustion. “Scraps’ll do jus’ fine,” he said, his drawl slow and measured, “long as they’re hot.”

“I’ll toast to that,” you said with a smile, lifting an imaginary glass before stepping forward as the line finally moved.

Tommy and Maria’s counters were lined with an assortment of warm, home-cooked dishes, the kind that seemed to embrace you in their aroma alone. Steaming casseroles, roasted vegetables, fresh bread, and even a sweet-smelling pie stood in their rightful place. Your stomach growled quietly in anticipation as you grabbed a plate and filled it to the brim.

The scene tugged at your memories. For a moment, you were back in your parents’ house on Christmas Eve, the hum of conversation and laughter mixing with the clatter of dishes. Your mom would be darting between the kitchen and the dining room, balancing trays of food while your dad played host, pouring wine and sneaking bites before dinner was officially served. Family, extended family, friends, and anyone else who happened to need a place to go—it was chaos, the good kind. Leftovers would spill out of the fridge for weeks, and the house would smell like spices and warmth long after the last guest left.

Your chest tightened briefly, and you swallowed the emotion as you returned to the present.

Plate piled high, you stepped away from the buffet, glancing around the room for an empty seat. Every single one was taken, filled with faces both familiar and distant, people chatting, laughing, or quietly enjoying their meals. You wandered the space, weaving between chairs and tables, offering small waves and smiles to those who caught your eye.

As you moved through the room, a few people greeted you warmly, their voices cutting through the cozy din.

“Hey, that stew was yours, wasn’t it?” one of them asked, nodding toward the table where bowls stood hot.

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, hope it’s good enough to cut.”

“It’s incredible!” they replied with enthusiasm, raising their glass slightly in your direction. “Saved me from Becca’s sweet potato thing—don’t tell her I said that.”

You chuckled, grateful for the distraction. Each wave and smile grounded you.

Finally, you found a spot to lean against the wall near the fireplace, balancing your plate on the mantel's edge. It wasn’t a seat, but it would do.

From across the room, Joel’s eyes met yours briefly, and he gave a slight nod before turning back to Tommy, who was gesturing animatedly about something. Even in a crowded room like this, you couldn’t help but notice him, his quiet presence cutting through the noise.

You let out a soft sigh and turned your attention to your plate, letting the warmth of the food and the moment settle over you. Naturally, people approached you, striking up casual conversations about life in Jackson and the workday. The rhythm of their voices blended with the sounds of the party—a lively hum that made the space feel alive.

But that space remains. No matter how warm the room is or how comforting the atmosphere, there’s a quiet tension you can’t shake. You felt skittish when people brushed against you when the crowd shifted and pushed you closer to the wall or into others. It wasn’t their fault—everyone was just trying to enjoy the night—but to you, it felt suffocating.

You even spotted Mrs. MacGregor and her husband weaving through the crowd, their plates stacked high and matching. She caught your eye and smiled, a genuine warmth lighting her features. It was a rare sight; her usual sternness from the school seemed miles away. Here, in this setting, she looked lighter.

“Great stew,” she said in passing, her voice carrying a touch of approval.

“Glad you liked it,” you replied, returning her smile.

The ease of the moment carried you from one conversation to another. Someone shared a funny story about the last supply run, another recounted their kids’ antics, and soon, time passed without you noticing. Plates emptied and refilled, and the line for seconds and thirds began to thin.

As the night unfolded, bowls of ice cream appeared, passed around like hidden treasures someone had smuggled into the party. The creamy treat caused a ripple of excitement, and soft laughter broke out as people savored the rare indulgence.

You looked down at your own bowl of ice cream, the edges softening and melting into a creamy pool at the bottom. It had been a long time since you’d had something like this. The spoon in your hand hovered for a moment as you let yourself savor the sight and the memory it stirred.

The living room was alive around you, voices overlapping as people joked, laughed, and shared stories. Someone strummed a guitar in the corner, the soft melody weaving through the conversations. The fire crackled warmly, its glow reflecting off the ice cream in your bowl, and for a moment, you felt a strange peace settle over you.

Taking a small bite, the cold sweetness spread across your tongue, and you closed your eyes briefly. It wasn’t perfect—nothing ever was anymore—but it was good. And in a world where good moments felt so rare, this one stood out.

Across the room, Ellie caught your eye, her own bowl of ice cream balanced precariously in one hand as she animatedly told a story to a small group. Her laugh carried above the others, infectious and bright, and you couldn’t help but smile.

The pressure of the room seemed to build with every accidental nudge, every hand that grazed your arm in passing. Your breathing quickened despite your attempts to steady it, and your fingers tightened around your bowl of ice cream. It felt… like you had no escape, no place to run.

You tried to focus on the laughter, the music, the hum of life around you, but it was distant, like hearing it underwater. A part of you wanted to leave, to step out into the cold night air and let it clear your head. But leaving meant drawing attention, and attention meant questions you didn’t have the energy to answer.

Instead, you pressed your back against the wall, trying to find some sense of stability. The ice cream in your bowl was forgotten, melting as you stared into the room, your gaze unfocused. You rubbed the edge of the bowl with your thumb, the repetitive motion grounding you just enough to keep from unraveling.

The walls seemed closer than before, and for a brief moment, you thought about how much easier it was to breathe when it was just you, the wind, and the endless open road. Here, among people and friends, it felt like a trap you couldn’t quite escape.

You clenched your jaw, swallowed hard, and forced yourself to take a deep breath. Suddenly, there was another rush as people piled into the living room. Someone had taken the guitar and was inviting others to a bad karaoke.

People shove past you, their laughter and chatter oblivious to your rising discomfort. Each push feels like a current in a rushing river, forcing you along paths you don’t want to take. Your trap—this room, these walls, these bodies pressing closer—tightens its hold, steering you further away from the calm you desperately need.

You try to sidestep, to reclaim some sense of control, but the movement of the crowd is relentless. A shoulder bumps against yours, spinning you slightly; an elbow brushes your side, sending your pulse into overdrive. Your hands grip the melting bowl of ice cream like it’s a lifeline, the chill against your palm grounding you just enough to keep standing.

“Sorry,” someone mutters as they pass, but their voice is swallowed by the din. It doesn’t matter. You’re too busy trying to keep your breathing steady, to push down the growing panic as the space around you seems to shrink with every passing second.

You suck in a shaky breath, your back now pressed against the cold surface of the wall. The solidness should be comforting, but instead, it feels like a barrier, a reminder that there’s no clear way out. The urge to drop your bowl and shove your way through the crowd grows stronger with each passing moment.

The door to the backyard seemed like the only way out—a beacon in the chaos of bodies and voices that felt like they were suffocating you. You don’t know how, but you manage to slip through the cracks of the crowd, your body instinctively finding the narrow spaces between people. A muttered apology here, a gentle nudge there, until finally, your hand grasps the cool metal of the door handle.

You push it open, and the cold air hits you like a sharp, bracing wave. It seeps through your layers, wrapping around you, but you don’t care. The noise from inside becomes muffled as the door closes behind you, replaced by the soft crunch of snow underfoot and the distant hum of wind.

The backyard is quiet, blanketed in white, and framed by the faint glow of string lights. It feels like an entirely different world, a sanctuary from the overwhelming warmth and closeness of the party. Your breath fogs the air as you take a shaky step forward, the tension in your shoulders beginning to ease.

You didn’t realize how tightly you gripped your ice cream bowl until your fingers started to ache. With a soft sigh, you set it down on the porch's wooden railing, the sight of the creamy swirl melting into the cold surface strangely grounding.

For a moment, you just stand there, letting the silence and the chill seep into you, washing away the remnants of panic. Your hands find the edges of the porch railing, the rough texture grounding you further.

Enough to breathe. Enough to think.

It’s even colder out here, but staying on the porch instead of stepping into the snow makes it bearable. Tommy and Maria’s backyard is simple, the landscape softened under a thick blanket of white. The only thing that stands out is the shed in the far corner, its roof almost blending into the snow-covered ground.

The door behind you creaks open. You curse yourself for not shutting it properly, imagining the cold air creeping into their cozy home.

But when you turn around, you’re not greeted by the sight of the door swaying on its hinges. Instead, it’s Joel, standing there with one hand on the handle and a raised eyebrow.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just takes you in—the way you’re standing hunched over the railing, the faint puff of your breath in the frigid air, the way your arms wrap tightly around yourself despite your best attempt to seem at ease.

“Was wonderin’ where you disappeared to,” he says finally, stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind him with a firm click. His voice is low, a little gruff, and it cuts through the stillness like the crackle of a fire.

“I just needed some air,” you reply, glancing back at the snow-covered yard. “It got a little crowded in there.”

Joel nodded, his expression unreadable, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Ain’t gonna argue with that. Felt like we were packed in tighter than sardines.”

You let out a small laugh, more out of relief than humor. “Exactly.”

Joel glanced down at the bowl on the rail, his eyes lingering there for a moment. You caught the subtle quirk of his brow, and it didn’t take much to figure out what he was thinking.

You smirked, catching the hint of curiosity in his expression. “Want it?” you asked, picking up the half-melted ice cream and holding it out towards him.

Joel hesitated for a split second, his lips twitching as if considerin’ it. Then he furrowed his brows, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation. “I ain’t takin’ your half-eaten ice cream.”

“Thought you were okay with scraps?” you teased, your grin widening as you leaned back against the railing.

“When they’re fresh-made an’ ain’t been in somebody else’s mouth,” he shot back, his tone deadpan, but his eyes held a flicker of amusement.

“Wow,” you drawled, clutchin’ the bowl dramatically to your chest. “Didn’t realize you were so particular.”

“I ain’t picky,” Joel countered, shrugging as he leaned against the porch post. “Just don’t fancy secondhand desserts.”

You laughed softly, the sound carrying into the stillness of the snowy night. For a moment, the cold didn’t seem so biting, the tension from earlier fading in the easy banter between you.

“Your loss,” you said finally, taking a spoonful of the soft, sweet ice cream. “It’s not bad for scraps.”

“I’m sure.”

There’s a quiet moment before Joel speaks up again, his voice low but deliberate. “Holidays ain’t your favorite, huh?”

You turn back to him, the spoon still dangling from your mouth. “Why’d you assume that? I’m a teacher. Of course I love these times.”

Joel tilted his head, his brow furrowing as he glanced to the side, almost as if rolling his eyes at the comment. “I don’t give a damn what your job is. You looked… miserable in there.”

“In where?”

“Are you dumb or just messin’ with me?” he grumbled, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not a huge party person if that’s what you’re asking. Plus, I haven’t done one of these things in a hot second. Tommy was annoying me to come—for you, so I did.”

“For me?” he repeated, his brows raising slightly in surprise.

You nodded as the cold air swirled around you. “You didn’t know? He’s been talking to me almost every week about getting you used to Jackson’s life. Thought this whole ‘meeting everyone’ thing would do the trick.”

Joel let out a short huff, his expression a mixture of disbelief and something softer, though he tried to mask it. “That so?”

“Yep.” You pointed your spoon at him for emphasis. “He’s got this big idea about you fitting in here. Guess I’m part of the plan.”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze drifting over the snowy yard before settling back on you. “Well, you didn’t have to.”

“Look at you, mister main event,” you teased. “I didn’t come just for you. Thought it was about time I got out of the shell of my home.”

This time, he actually rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly under your breath.

“Still doesn’t answer my question,” Joel said, his tone laced with that familiar gruffness.

“You asked many questions.”

“The holidays aren’t your favorites,” he clarified, his gaze steady on you.

“Oh, that one.” You rubbed the back of your neck, a nervous habit you hadn’t been able to shake. “Well, I was big on it when I was younger. Or, you know, before the outbreak.”

You grimaced the words leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Twenty years. It wasn’t something you liked to think about, how much time had passed, how much had been lost.

“You know,” you continued, forcing a small smile, “family made it fun. My parents absolutely killed it every year. They’d go all out—lights, music, a tree so big it barely fit through the door.” The memory brought a flicker of warmth, but it was short-lived.

You hesitated, the next words catching in your throat like a jagged edge. “My…” You stopped yourself just in time, swallowing hard. My son’s favorite time was also Christmas. The thought hit you like a gut punch, and you quickly redirected. “My family went all out. Guess it just… reminds me too much, you know?”

Joel didn’t say anything right away, but his eyes softened, a quiet understanding settling in the space between you. It was as if he was thinking about something else, something for him.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice softer than usual. “I get it.”

You rubbed the back of your neck again, a nervous habit you couldn’t quite shake. “It’s not like I hate it or anything. It’s just... it feels different now. Like, the parts that made it special are gone. Or, maybe I’ve just changed too much to enjoy it the same way.”

He stays silent, letting your words hang in the cold air.

You sigh, unable to resist the urge to fill the quiet with more of your thoughts. “I think it’s just me changing, though.” A small, almost teasing smile touches your lips, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You didn’t want to bring the mood down, especially not with Joel. Not when he was already… well, Joel . Your student’s parent, your neighbor, your old neighbor from twenty years ago. You didn’t realize how many hats he wore in your life until now.

“I’m not exactly 19 anymore,” you add with a shrug, trying to make light of it, though the thought of time bothering you this much was unmistakable.

Joel doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even give a quick quip like he usually does. He just watches you, his brow furrowing slightly as if pondering something deeper. It’s as if your words hit him differently than you expected.

“Guess none of us are,” he mutters quietly, his tone rougher than usual. The slight shift in his voice catches you off guard.

Ah, I see what you meant now! Let me adjust that:

Maybe you made him think of something or someone, because he has this far-off look in his eyes. You shift slightly, trying to ease the tension. “Don’t think too hard about it though! You look great for a late 40-year-old.”

His eyes squint at you, brows furrowing. “I’m 57.”

“See? You don’t look like you’re about to hit 60!” you say with a grin, trying to lighten the mood, but his expression stays neutral like he’s processing something you didn’t quite catch. But he didn’t look 57, truly. To think he was 18 years older than you…

“Thanks.” He says bluntly.

You cock your head to the side, giving him an amused look. “Well, why did you walk out of the party? I’m sure Tommy’s in there losing his mind over you disappearing.”

Joel stood there in silence, his expression unreadable, like he was debating whether to answer. Finally, he muttered, “Karaoke sucked.”

You let out a short laugh. “Okay, music man.”

“Seriously,” he said with a slight frown, kicking at a patch of ice on the porch. “The guy who picked up the guitar? Sucked ass.”

“Oh, so you’re a critic now?” you teased, crossing your arms. “What, are you the guitar master or something?”

“I play a little bit,” Joel admitted with a shrug, his tone casual, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes.

“A little bit?” You raised a brow. “I’m guessing by ‘a little bit,’ you mean you’re annoyingly good.”

He smirked faintly, not confirming or denying. “I know when someone’s hittin’ the wrong chords.”

“Right, because you’re the expert,” you teased again, shaking your head. “Guess that explains why you couldn’t handle karaoke night.”

“It’s painful to watch,” he said, his voice low, but there was a dry humor laced in it. “Not gonna sit through that.”

You laughed, the sound soft against the cold night. “Next time, maybe you should show them how it’s done.”

“Yeah, right,” Joel snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on. You’re telling me you can play, but you wouldn’t get up there and show off? Not even for Tommy?” You leaned forward slightly, grinning. “What kind of big brother are you?”

“The kind that doesn’t do karaoke,” he replied flatly, though his lips twitched, hinting at a smile.

“Maybe you’re just sparing us. Maybe you,” you jab a finger at his bicep, the solid muscle there catching you off guard for a moment, “are not as good as you think.”

Joel’s brows lifted slightly at your sudden challenge. You didn’t know where this playful banter was coming from, but something about his calm demeanor made you want to push a little.

“I assure you,” he said, straightening up and leaning in slightly, his broad shoulders casting a shadow from the glow of the house behind him, “I’m good with my hands.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his tone. “That’s… absolutely the most unnecessary sexual comment about guitar playing I’ve ever heard.”

For the first time that evening, Joel let out a genuine laugh—a deep, rough bark of amusement that seemed to surprise even him. You couldn’t help but grin at the sound, feeling a spark of satisfaction at breaking through his gruff exterior, even if just for a moment.

“Well, you’re the one who took it that way,” he said, shaking his head as the laughter faded into a faint smirk.

“Excuse me?” you shot back, mock-offended. “You’re the one making innuendos about guitar skills.”

“Just stating facts,” he said, still grinning. “Don’t get mad ‘cause you’re the one who ran with it.”

“Oh, I’m not mad,” you retorted, smirking now yourself. “I’m just disappointed. I have teens who are more chaste than you are. And they’re teens.”

Joel chuckled, low and gravelly. “Never seen or heard your kids do anything teen-like? You’re in for a shock. You’d be surprised how far they can go—and how far they’re willing to go.”

You raised an eyebrow at his comment, leaning slightly against the cold railing. “Speaking from experience? Were you a ‘wild child’ growing up?”

He huffed, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Depends what you mean by ‘wild.’ Not much to do but get into trouble now and then.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were the perfect image of rebellion,” you teased, crossing your arms. “Sneaking out, driving too fast, breaking curfews…”

“Something like that.” Joel’s voice was a little softer now, and his gaze drifted out over the yard.

You tilted your head, studying him. “So no wild parties or questionable decisions? No tattoos you regret?”

His eyes flicked back to you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “No tattoos. Never seemed like my thing. Questionable decisions, though?” He let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Plenty of those.”

“Care to share?” you prompted, grinning now. “Or are they too incriminating?”

Joel shook his head, a dry chuckle escaping him. “Not sure I should be telling you stories that might make you think less of me.”

“Oh, please. If anything, it’ll just make me feel better about my own questionable decisions.”

You made many questionable decisions. You got pregnant at 18, still a senior in high school. To say your decisions were not the best is an understatement.

“You were a wild child too?”

“A wild child?” You scoffed, acting offended by his words. “Please, I was the crazy child. I don’t have siblings, so my parents spoiled me rotten. Made me think I was queen of the world. And to be honest, I kinda was.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“Oh, I was! Captain of Cheer, we won every single competition we ever went to under my leadership. Dated the star quarterback, was the girl to be.” You grinned, clearly relishing in the memories.

“Is this your life or the mean girl in every movie?”

“First, I was not mean. I was reasonable,” you said, rolling your eyes. “And I hosted the meanest parties. I could easily distract any person with two sensible eyes and let my friends sneak away with packs on packs of liquor.”

“You’re not that special. I could and did do the same with Tommy all the time.” He looks up at the stars, his breath curling in the cold air and disappearing into the night.

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Yeah, well maybe you didn’t have to swerve from police cars after they caught on. My friends then were not good thieves.”

Joel’s gaze flickers back to you, the flicker of a smirk spreading wider into that grin that barely popped up.

"See that couldn’t be me and Tommy," he mutters, his voice bolder now. "I trained him to be silent when we did shit like that.”

“Hey, thanks for the suggestion. I’ll get my fellow teachers and train them to be the best liquor thieves known to Jackson.”

Joel audibly snorts, and the silence that follows is so natural it doesn’t feel like any awkwardness is between you both. This had to be the only time that you had talked to Joel this long, this intently. All your other conversations had been short, or been filled to the brim with words you didn’t feel were right with him.

But this… this felt normal. Like friends talking. Like two people who had known each other for a while, comfortable in the space between words, no pretense, just real. And that somehow made it feel even more intimate than anything that had come before.

Joel shivers, pulling his jacket tighter against the chill that had settled in the air. “You want to face the music? As interesting and fun as this conversation’s been, I don’t feel like sawing off my foot later after I lose it to the cold.”

You chuckle, the sound quiet but genuine, warm in contrast to the frost creeping into the room. “I’ll take you on that,” you reply, not missing the subtle edge of humor in your voice.

Joel grunts in agreement, his hand already reaching for the door. As he opens it, the warm air rushes in like an welcome guest.

As you slip inside, your shoulder brushes against his chest. It's an accident. But the contact is sharp—sudden—and you’re acutely aware of how close he is. A breath’s width away. And for a fleeting second, you wonder if a single, unspoken step could bring your back to his chest, his breath just behind your ear. The thought catches you off guard, and you quickly shake it off.

Stupid cold.

Finally, I've caught up. If you're seeing this live, I'm not going crazy.

My a03 account is Writer_Spins, where you can get a whole day early access to every chapter I update. I update a03 on Sundays, and Tumblr every Monday

#fanfic #joel miller #joel x reader #last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou joel #joel tlou #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x y/n #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal

28 notes · View notes

rkivees · 5 months ago

Text

Seo Hyesook, Cristina Yang, Ellis Grey and the pressure placed by society on women to become mothers

In last week's episode, Love Next Door brought a serious discussion to the forefront of the drama. In a society where women are increasingly pressured to have children due to South Korea having the lowest birth rate in the world, giving a character the space to be honest about how she feels about her place in marriage, motherhood and society was a bold and much appreciated choice so I wanted to talk a bit about it.

Does she love her husband and her son? Yes, not only does she say this in this scene, but she also says it in future scenes, but none of this makes her pain any less real or any less valid. She resented her husband, her marriage life and her son all the same because she was happy as a Diplomat and she wanted to keep that life but now she is a mother and the world is not kind to working mothers. There was this kdrama once who had doctors multiple times say they didn't like hiring women because they soon get married and become mothers and rarely come back to work. I wonder why. Even if you wanted to go back, would you go back to a hostile environment?

Women are told from an early age that they should find a good man, get married and have children. This is their role in society and if they dare to try to break out of it, they are judged and shamed.

That's why this scene made me think so much about Cristina and Ellis, two equally strong and talented characters who are faced with the decision of whether or not to have children. Cristina finishes her act in the show by not having any and she states that she doesn't hate kids, she respects them and wishes them to have parents that want them. She loves her career more and she feels complete like that.

Ellis, on the other hand, had not only one, but two daughters. One was lucky enough to have an adopted family that loved her very much. And then we have Meredith, who was well aware she was not wanted. Below we have a quote of her coming forward in Cristina's defense.

Do you know what will happen to Cristina if she has a kid that she doesn't want? It will almost kill her. Trying to pretend that she loves a kid as much as she loves surgery will almost kill her, and it'll almost kill your kid. Do you know what it's like to be raised by someone who didn't want you? I do. To know you stood in the way of your mother's career? I do. I was raised by a Cristina. My mother was a Cristina. And as the child she didn't want, I am telling you, don't do this to her because she's kind and she cares and she won't make it. The guilt of resenting her own kid will eat her alive.

We get to see Cristina's future if she had children and it's much like Seo Hyesook. They try to overcompensate (they love their kid after all) that resentment while being eaten alive by it or we get women like Ellis, a woman unhappy in her motherhood, that traumatized her daughter to a point she didn't want to be alive.

Ellis never tried to hide her unhappiness and I am not, of course, exempting her for the bad mother she was but I want you to understand that if she wasn't put in this position to begin with, we would not have a traumatized child. Society cannot be absolved of the blame for creating unfit mothers that didn't want to be mothers and children who suffer from that unfitness.

I think it's a discussion that needs to be had, especially since we're going through a time worldwide where women are losing their right to choose and we get told more and more that there's a certain place for us, barefoot in the kitchen tending to our husbands and children.

We have to talk about it, about our choices or the lack of and how our place is wherever we want to be so we won't end up in a position where we resent our lives.

#kept thinking about this #women's rights #love next door #grey's anatomy #kdrama #not mdzs related #long post

47 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 9 months ago

Text

My Little Man Part 2 (Steddie X You)(Part of the HFOD and SS AU)

A/N: Took awhile to get through this because it made me feel things lol but I'm excited for the next chapter because I know what I want to do smut wise which will involve some slight role-play. ;).

Warning: Demon Steddie/ Human Fem Y/N, Smut but light, dirty talk, FLUFF, they love each other and their son. ANGST ABOUND!

Fall out from the last chapter, boys fight about it, Y/N suggests they go back to a certain realm to deal with certain things, details of both demons abuse is expanded on including Eddie's dad being physically violent and Steve's father being verbally a dick (so child abuse trigger for sure), Mentions of sick parents (I never gave either of her parents a diagnoses nor did I give them specific systems that allude to anything), mentions of talking care of a sick parent. I think that's it.

Word Count: 5131

First 2 Series and Last Chapter Here/ Donate to Me :)

Eddie growls as you fall through the portal, swatting away the other demon’s hands as he bends down to try and help you to your feet.

“Where are we?”

“Oblivion.”, Steve whispers as he backs away from you both.

“Why would a realm like this even exist?”

“It’s not uncommon to have ‘dead’ realms. This one is just most known because of its strength.”

“Strength?”

“If all realms collapsed, this is the only one that would remain standing.”

You jumped at the sound of Eddie’s wings expanding as he flew forward and tackled Steve off his feet, watching as they rolled onto the floor and began to wrestle. Neither demon said a thing as they delivered blow after blow occasionally flying over your head before falling to the ground.

After a while, you found yourself getting annoyed as nothing was progressing. You understand this may be how they handled things back home but even you knew Eddie was so angry that this wouldn’t be enough for him.

“Is this what you two are going to do the whole time?!”, you shouted in the air towards them. “Or are you going to actually talk to each other!?!”

Steve hit the ground by your feet rolling to a stop as the other demon glided to the ground charging towards him. Placing yourself between them, you blocked his path.

“You were supposed to stay behind.”

“Why? So you guys could handle this alone?! I’m not mad at him for what he did in his dream. Why are you?!”

Eddie grunted in fury as his eyes glowed while you spoke.

“HE didn’t know it was a dream! HE thought it was real and that’s how he acted!! He let his father get the fucking best of him and then tried to FUCKING KILL ME before stabbing you which I haven’t forgotten, Y/N. What the fuck were YOU thinking?!”

“I was thinking you needed me and he would fucking die if anything ever happened to you! You aren’t just his partner, Edward. You’re his best friend! You’ve known him for over 4,000 years! You’ve known me for about a year and a half. It’s not the same…”

“What?! So, you’re fucking expendable?! Is that what you’re telling me right now, Y/N?! Then why the fuck did we risk our lives and sanity to get you that fucking potion?!”

“Calm down, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, little girl.”

You both stared each other down as Steve slowly rose to his feet and placed himself in front of you.

“Go ahead.”, he panted. “Let’s keep going. Please.” The other demon glances him over growling again as he places his hands on his hips and turns away. “No! You’re right. I deserve it. I fucked up. I was blinded with trying to find Ellis, I wasn’t thinking.”

He started to cry and your heart broke as he continued to try to get Eddie to fight him.

“Come on, baby, PLEASE! Do it!”, Steve shouted as he shoved him trying to instigate. “Come on! I deserve it! Like Mirage said, I wasn’t raised to do anything else but fight! This was bound to happen. I was bound to fucking hurt one of you!”

“Fuck me! I’m so FUCKING TIRED of hearing her fucking name! She’s gone, Steven! Mirage isn’t here. She’s fucking miserable in her own realm! Now can we let that be a part of our past and move on!”

“It’s not just her, Edward! This is all I know. Fighting and war. How am I supposed to be a father and fucking husband without becoming my dad!”

“Boyfriend.”

“What?”

“You said husband. Even though I’d marry you both in a heartbeat…we’re not.”, you sigh.

Both men exhale heavily while Eddie crosses his arms.

“By your logic, Steve, that means I can’t be a father or partner without becoming MY dad.”

Growling yourself, you step forward and punch them both in their arms.

“That’s it! Steven, take us back to Espejismo.”

“What, why?”

“Don’t argue just fucking do it!”

“Wh-what about Ellis?”

“He’s asleep and he won’t be hungry for another four hours. Now, take us to Mirage.”

“Y/N, you’re in your pajamas—”

Your angry eyes cut him off as he hastily steps forward and does what you command.

##############

As soon as you three step through, you are met with sunshine and people walking around the market you had appeared in.

“Hey there, Y/N.”, a little girl grins up at you. “It’s nice to see you again. No one ever comes back to visit me.”

“Hm. I wonder why. Cut the bullshit. We need to talk.”

The world around you abruptly disappears as Mirage comes forward and scans you over with her hazel eyes.

“That’s not usually something I do, baby. You three passed your test but I’m not going to lie after what I’m seeing I’m second guessing my choice. I was under the impression that you were stronger than the woman you used to be.”

“I am.”

“Then why are you here? Edward is right. Steven thought it was a reality and killed you.”

“If you can see what happened you should also be able to see part of that is because of what you put them through. We still have nightmares about what we saw. They deserve to see… see what the other is afraid of.”

Mirage thinks for a moment as he eyes glance towards them and back to you.

“Tell them the truth and I’ll do what you ask.”

Turning to face them, their worried eyes meet yours.

“I forgot we were in a dream. Like Steven, in that moment, I thought it was real. If it had been…I would have made the same choice. Out of the four of us, yes Edward, I feel like I’m the most expendable.”

Their eyes glow in anger as you swivel back towards the other woman who nods her head and gestures at the door to your side.

“You can see things but like with what you saw with their memories you can’t interact.”

“Thank you.”, you mumble as you push through and they follow.

#################

“Fantastic. Back in this fucking hell hole. I’m really glad we came back to this realm, guys.”, Eddie growls sarcastically as you three find yourselves in his childhood home.

“What’s your plan, Y/N? Why did you want to show us this?”, Steve asks.

“Not him. You.”

The sound of small sniffles catches the demon’s attention as he heads towards the sound, sighing at the sight of a child Eddie sitting on his bed with tears in his eyes as he stares at a photo of him and his mother.

“EDWARD?!”

Quickly the tiny demon shoves the picture under his bed and rises to his feet.

Steve is just now realizing he’s in a suit and so is his father as he stomps into the room.

“What are you doing in here?!”

“Leave the boy alone, Allen. He just lost his mother.”, Wayne pleads, trying to intervene without making things worse.

“Yeah. Now he doesn’t have someone here to fucking baby him. Come on, you little brat.”

As his dad pushes him down the hall, Steve tries to follow but is cut off by an older Eddie who tries to head for the door but is stopped when a glass bottle is thrown against the wall near his body.

“Wow, you missed. Were you aiming for me?”

“Always so fucking mouthy. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Wayne’s. Is that a problem?”

“Hm. So he can show you another stupid fucking guitar? Pfft, I never understood why your mom was into that.”

“Well, mom was into a lot of things I don’t understand.”, he said sarcastically as he sized his father up.

A slow chuckle left him before his father swung and Eddie hit the floor.

Steve stepped forward with a loud growl prepared to defend the man he loved but the images in front of him vanished until he heard coughing and turned to find him bloodied on the floor. He watched as Allen stepped over him, grabbing his jacket, and leaving the house without so much as a goodbye.

Eddie panted as he pushed himself up and leaned against the wall, spitting blood towards the door his father left through.

The demon wanted to hold him, collect him in his arms and tell him everything would be ok, but all he could do was look as the vision of the other demon dried the tears that threatened to fall and forced himself to his feet.

“T-That’s who you’re afraid you’re going to become? You genuinely believe you could do something like THIS to us or our son?”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he ignored Steve’s question, choosing to exit through the front door hoping it would take him anywhere else. To his surprise, it does.

As you and Steve follow, the long-haired demon realizes you guys are back in the other demon’s childhood home. The sound of metal clanking caught everyone’s attention until you found yourselves in what must have been a training room on the other side of his home.

Steve looked like he was in his early teens dressed in ill-fitting armor as his father came at him with full force, swinging his sword violently in his direction.

“Come. On. STEVEN! What did I say?! No one is going to go easy on you out in the field. Do you want to die?!”

“NO! I’m just exhausted. Can we take a break?”

“Do you think there are breaks in war, son?! No!”

The young demon hastily blocked his father’s sword as it came down from above and they maneuvered across the room. His feet suddenly gave out as he fell to the ground and even Eddie rushed towards him to stop the blade as it hit the floor just inches from Steve’s face.

“Congratulations, you are now dead. You failed me, your men, and broke your mother’s heart. Your wife is somewhere crying and mourning your death and your children will grow up to be just as pathetic as you.”, Bill sighed in annoyance as he tossed his weapon to the ground and exited the room.

Eddie’s heart broke as he watched an angry Steve tear off pieces of his armor and throw them to the side as he tried to control his tears.

The setting around you changed as his mother followed after a much older version of his dad.

“Bill, we have to find him! It’s been over 50 years and I MISS MY SON!”

His father grabbed her wrist and shoved her into a nearby chair.

“When will you get this through your head? We have no son! The kid we raised killed a fellow solider and deserted with a murderer. Not just any murderer, Janet! Edward Munson slaughtered our princess! Forget about him and move on! He deserves whatever hell he’s enduring.”

Steve’s head hung at his father’s words and you comfortingly reached out to rub his back.

The images around you three faded and you were surrounded by emptiness again.

“He was so convincing, Edward. In my dreams, he sounds just like that. He said Ellis would die because he hasn’t been trained yet but I have. I have the training to save him.”

“No, Steven, you don’t.”

Even your head tilted at Eddie’s comment before he continued.

“He was training you to be like him and failed. Thank fucking God. This isn’t you. You told me so many stories but actually seeing it… you have never been capable of being a dick like him. You need to stop letting him win.”

“Me? What about you? You think you could ever do that to Y/N or Ellis? Edward, you literally don’t have it in you. Trust me, that kid is so much like you, full of humor and heart. He could never hurt anyone and neither could you. Not like that.

You and Mirage grin as they practically run to each other, cupping the other’s face as they kiss.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to be better and stop letting my emotions take over when I’m upset. I promise I’ll stop shutting you two out. I love you both so much.”

“What about you, Y/N?”, Mirage asks.

“What about me?”

“Oh, ok. So, you aren’t going to tell them why you think you’re the expendable one?” She shakes her head as you ignore her. “You came to me for help, honey, and I’m going to help.”

“No, Mirage, don’t--!”

The atmosphere shifts and suddenly you’re in a hospital hallway. Your dad cuts between your demon’s and they hastily turn to follow.

“Hey Jackie. How are things today?”, your father asks the nurse who was watching over an adolescent you as you laid in the hospital bed with your arm wrapped around your mom who was sleeping soundly.

“She had a rough day today. Of course, she tried to hide it behind jokes and trying to get the staff to stand on their toes but…” They both chuckle softly as she pats your dad’s shoulder. “Y/N fell asleep about an hour ago. She was trying to help her with her math homework but a coughing fit got in the way.”

“Thank you…for everything.”

The images blur till you’re back home and the demons watch as a 16-year-old you sobs on the couch.

“Baby, everything’s going to be ok.”

“No, dad! No it’s not! How can everything be ok when you’re fucking sick to!?”

Your father wraps his arms around you as he tries to calm you.

“I’m sure it IS fine. This is just a diagnosis, honey. I’ve been pretty healthy and they have so many treatments available. I’m…I’ll be here for a long time.”

An 18-year-old version of you sits outside your high school against the wall on the last day, flipping through a paper you got an A on.

“I still think you should submit that to a contest or something.”, your English teacher grins as she comes up to your side and sits beside you.

“Naw. No point really.”

“Why not?”

“I just got hired at the clothing store in the mall. Between that and taking care of my dad, I won’t have time to submit or make any edits. Even if I do win, I can’t go to the award ceremony out of state.”

“So, you’re just not going to be a writer anymore?”

You shrug.

“Life has different plans for me, I guess. It’s fine. I have my dad so…”

“I think your parents would want you to be happy.”

Smiling, you rise to your feet as you grab your bag.

“Um, thank you for teaching me, Mrs. Garett. I learned a lot from you over these last four years.”

As your image pushes past them, someone follows close behind as the demons realize they’re now outside the mall you used to work at.

“Fuck you! Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Look, will you wait a second!?”, the boy shouts as he continues to try and buckle his pants. “I’m sorry, ok?! I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Oh so when WOULD have been the right time to tell me you’re fucking one of my coworkers?! I’m surprised I haven’t caught you yet if your both just being so out in the open with it!”

“So am I since it’s not the first time Carol and I have fucked in the break room!” Steve’s eyes glow in anger as he steps towards you both but Eddie stops him placing a hand on his chest. “You’re never around! You’re always either working crazy hours or…”

“Or what? Taking care of my sick dad? You’re right. I’m such a monster! Fuck me.”

The boy sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, babe. I just—”

“Just go. Just fucking leave…like everyone else.”, your voice cracks as you turn away from him.

As the sound of his shoes gradually disappear, you let out a loud scream into the Hawkins night sky before wiping away your tears, straightening your uniform, and heading back into the mall to finish your shift.

Everything falls away as they turn to meet your frustrated face as you tightly fold your arms around your body.

“Tell them.”, Mirage encourages.

“Fuck you.”

“Tell us, Y/N.”, Eddie insists.

You shrug as the tears start to flow.

“You saw it. Both your dads were fuckers who hurt you both. Edward, you lost your mom and Chrissy. Steven, I felt how bad Nancy hurt you. Then you were so terrified something happened to Eddie and it killed you because you felt like now with the princess gone you were losing all your friends. You kept an extra close eye on Robin until you got a lead and went with Jason to find him. You both were banished and then cursed to that stupid fucking stone for…3000…years…”

“My dad lost the woman he loved. He always said he was fine and that she gave him ‘the best gift’ he could ask for but I saw it. I saw how much it destroyed him. And how was he repaid for his pain?! He got sick to. You both deserve to be happy. You were together and in love way before you ever met me. You deserve to be together in peace and be the fathers you never got.”

Both demons stared at you as they listened to you speak with wide eyes as they absorbed what you were saying.

“Am I the only one who hasn’t lost their fucking mind?”, Eddie growls. “Are you going to stand there and tell me you’re the most expendable because you think you haven’t suffered as much as we have?”

“Even if that were true and let’s be fucking clear here it’s not.”, Steve rumbled in anger. “After what I just saw, Y/N…that’s a lot for one human to deal with. You carried the world on your shoulders way before we even came along.”

“It wasn’t that bad—”

“Y/N! It was fucking terrible! How can you not see… FUCK!”

“You lost your parents just like we did and you were trapped to. Maybe not in a stone but in Hawkins serving people who really didn’t give a damn except your dad. Like you with us, he saved you, sweetheart, and this is how you’re going to repay him? By throwing away your life if the opportunity arose?!”

“Excuse me.” The three of you swivel around to glare at Mirage, completely forgetting she was even there. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing but to be fair no one ever comes back here so…I’d like to show you something.”

After she disappears, you three find yourself in a huge, two-story house you had never been to before. As you walk down the hallway, you pass a bedroom covered from head to toe in band posters and clothes thrown everywhere. There was a stereo playing a song you didn’t recognize and a guitar not too far from it’s side.

Suddenly, a boy’s voice fills your ears as he appears from his closet with his back to you as he slides on his leather jacket and hastily strolls to the mirror. His long wavy hair barely covers his horns but they still aren’t as big as Eddie’s or Steve’s. He had a bit of a lanky frame but you could tell he was strong as his muscles just barely peaked through the band shirt he was wearing with his slightly too big jeans.

“In the car, I just can't wait To pick you up on our very first date Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?”

Your eyelids flutter at the sound of his voice as he sings and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You’d know that sound anywhere.

“Ellis.”

“Ellis! Hurry up, baby, or you’re gonna be late for school!”

“I’m coming, mom! Give me a minute!”

“Can you please grab your sister to?! Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.”, he grins.

“He still has your smile, Steven.”, Eddie marveled.

Both demons moved aside as their son passed them into the hallway with you in tow, pausing outside another bedroom.

“Hey, Dell. Are you ready? Mom’s calling for you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to go.”

“Oh, you whiner. You’ll be fine, come on. One more semester and then you’ll be in high school.”

“But you won’t be there.”

“I know. Won’t it be great!”

“No.”, the girl whines.

“Hey, you know you’re my best friend right? Wherever I go it won’t be far.”

She smiles as he pulls her into his embrace while you watch their exchange. This young lady’s room was fairly simple with pictures scattered above a desk in the corner with her and her friends. There appeared to be fencing trophies lining her shelf that Steve picked up to examine.

“Fencing is sword fighting, right?” The demon breathily chuckles when you nod. “This thing here says she got first place in a league of some kind.”

“It looks like she’s into stones and auras like you.”, Eddie adds as he gestures towards her bedside table at the books and candles surrounding the lamp.

As they looked around the room, you were looking at them, your children. Unlike her brother, he horns were much smaller and you could just vaguely make out the shape of small wings folded under her tank top. The brown hair on her head was the same as Steve’s but with your style as it rested just above her shoulders. Just like Ellis, however, her eyes and voice were a mix of human and demon.

“Guys! Let’s a get a move on!”

The three of you followed them down the stairs but paused in different places. You entered the living room and took in the photos around you. There were so many of 5 smiling faces that had your heart soaring. It seems you and your demons took them everywhere from Disneyland to Paris showing them the world. Some images were of your kids with Robin and Wayne as well as a million pictures of your children hanging out with Dustin’s in their realm.

Steve and Eddie watched you as you effortlessly maneuvered around the kitchen, sliding breakfast in front of them as you continued to make lunches and get ready for the day.

“Steven, she has a scar on her neck.”, the other demon murmured hoping you wouldn’t overhear as he pointed the area. “It looks old and faded but it’s not one she has now.”

A portal opening interrupts them as Steve steps through.

“Kids. Wife.”, he greets making you giggle.

“Holy shit, she does have a ring on her finger.”, the demon breathes as you search for a photo of the event to find none.

“How’s Robin and Jonathan?”

“She’s good. We just did a quick patrol to make sure everything’s ok and went over some information. Nancy should be back tomorrow from the realm she was visiting with more intel so…” He grinned as he leaned down to give you a kiss.

“Am I a fucking demon slayer now?”

“I mean, you do seem happier.”, Eddie beams. “And you look fucking sexy.”

The sound of feet catches everyone’s attention as the metalhead himself runs down the stairs.

“Shit. I’m late.”

“Hi, daddy.”

“Hi, daddy.”, Ellis mimics making her pout as she smacks her brother’s shoulder.

With a smile and a hastened pace, he leans down to kiss his daughter and son before overdramatically placing a kiss on you and Steve’s lips with loud MUAH noises that follow.

“Love you, family, see you tonight!”, he shouts as he slings his guitar over his shoulder and runs out the door.

“I’m done, mom.”, your youngest announces as she passes her plate to you.

“Delilah Munson-Harrington, you didn’t even finish everything! You’re going to be hungry.”

At the name, your heart shatters as you start to cry.

“Mom, oh my god. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll make her eat a snack or something, mom, I promise.”, Ellis declares as he passes you his empty plate and they grab the lunches you made them. “Are you driving us, dad?”

“Yeah of course.”

Red light shimmers as they all change into their human form and run out the door.

Mirage grins softly as she places herself beside you and comfortingly rubs your back with her palm.

“They suggested naming her after your mother, Y/N. Both kids are exceptionally bright and resourceful. They love Hawkins but also their father’s realm. They can float between both without any pain and they love you three very much. You don’t want to see a world without you, sweetie.”

Steve is the first to step forward as his fingers caressed your cheek and wiped away the tears that stained your face.

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper.

“Y/N, you don’t have to be that martyr anymore. You saved the world, you saved us… you always used to say, ‘no matter what happens as long as we’re together we’ll be ok.’ I still believe that, honey. I’m so sorry I didn’t talk to you either about what was going on. It will never happen again, I promise. Jesus, that image of you with my sword…hurting you…I’d do anything to make sure that never becomes a reality.”

“You’re not and never have been expendable, sweetheart. You mean so much to so many beings… even ones that aren’t here anymore.”, Eddie softly smiled as he came up beside you. “You’re a part of us, babe. We love you so much.”

You tackled your arms around him as Steve did the same.

“Oh, oh ok, now. That’s enough touching and love in my realm. Go do that in your own.”, Mirage jokes as she flaps her hands towards you three in shooing motion. “Please, um, feel free to stop by again. I don’t usually get repeats.”

#############

As you enter your home, you quickly run to check on Ellis to find him still asleep and you can’t help but smile as you pet his tiny head.

When you entered your bedroom again, you found Eddie pinning Steve’s wrists to the mattress as they passionately exchanged kisses.

“It’s been a while since I’ve taken control and kept you in line, huh, baby?”

“I’m sorry, honey.”, he panted as his lips chased the other demon’s. “I love you.”

Swiftly flipping onto his back, the long-haired demon grinned as he motioned for you to join them.

“Still asleep?”

“Fast asleep.”, you beam.

“Good.” Craning his neck, his lips tenderly kissed your own before he groaned against them as Steve took his cock into his mouth and sloppily bobbed his head as spit fell from his mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, Steven.”

Taking a hold of his hair, he held the boy still as he fucked up in him, relishing the sound of his gags as his throat constricted around him.

“Good boy.”, the demon grunted before bringing his lips back to his own and pushing him onto his back once more. Holding his legs open wide, Eddie guided himself into the demon beneath him as they both rumbled a soft growl from their chest. “Good…boy…”

“P-Please. Harder, baby. Fuck.” The long-haired demon leaned his chest against Steve’s and passionately kissed him as he rolled his hips roughly into his own. “Just like that. I love you s-so much. I’m so sorry.”

The demon underneath him whined when he pushed back up onto his knees and stopped moving but quickly silenced himself when he realized his partner was tugging you on top of him.

When you lowered yourself onto his leaking cock, Steve’s back arched as whimpered at the feeling.

“Fuck!”

Your hand hastily covered his mouth as you both continued your steady rhythm.

“Shhhh, baby. You can’t wake up Ellis.” His strong arms wrapped around you and held you against him as you ground your waist down against his. “I love you both so much.”

“Love y-you, honey. Oh my god. I missed the way your pussy felt.”

A sweat covered forehead leaned against your back and you groaned as you felt him murmur against your skin.

“Fuck…fucking can’t stop thinking a-about you as our wife… Ours, sweetheart. Claimed. Mmph…

“I’d-I’d marry you both. I’ll always be yours. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s fingers tangled tightly in your hair, clinging tightly to you as your body trembled and the coil snapped. As both demons filled you with their release, neither let you go as you fell to your sides.

The sound of cooing makes you three giggle as Steve announces he’ll grab “the little monster”.

“Y/N, what if…we could get married?”

“I told you, Eddie. I’d say yes and marry you both in an instant.”, you grin as you roll over and cuddle up into his chest.

“I’m serious, sweetheart.”

His tone causes you to sit up and he does the same as his eyes meet your own.

“What are you trying to tell me, Edward?”

Steve reenters the room with a big smile and an equally happy baby as Ellis beams down at you both.

“I did some research a long time ago in our realm when Chrissy and I were together. I wanted to know the rules when it came to royalty and peasants like me. I remember reading something about how you could be married up to two people.”

You and the other demon exchanged a look as he continued.

“I don’t know how it would all work though because I would assume it would be between three demons and you’re a human. Add in that back in that time there was some backwards rules on men marry men and vise versa. I’m not sure how that would be now either…”

“Eddie? Are you asking us to marry you?”, you ask in a lighthearted tone that makes him blush and roll his eyes.

“I mean yeah kind of I guess. I’m just asking if the option is available would you…would you want to?”

“Baby, I went through a trial with a witch or goddess or whatever to get a potion that would keep me alive and with you both as long as you both shall live. I would gladly do it again to marry you.”, you smile as you tilt towards him to kiss his cheek. “Both of you.”

“Me to.”, Steve confirms, grabbing the demon’s cheeks in his fingers and bringing his lips to his own. “You’re really adorable when you’re nervous.”

“Pfft, shut up.”, Eddie jokes as he reaches for his son who giggles and falls into his arms. “And you’ll be our best little man.”

#################

@tlclick73 @tiannamortis @steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@strangerthings64 @howlingco @eddiesguitarskills

@prettypeachsworld @nailbatanddungeon @notlempet @thwippyparker

60 notes · View notes