#call me Joel the way it splattered across the floor

[wh0re4elliewilliams]

farm!ellie x you? Yes. 🤭

WHEN IM DOWN ON MY KNEES YOURE HOW I PRAYYYYYYYY

[pforpedro]

TWIN FLAME

Joel Miller x Reader

WARNINGS: Smut! (No spoilers), 18+ content, Reader is aged up, Joel being a protective dad, rough Joel with a hint of softness, not proofread, MINORS DNI.

SUMMARY: [SET PRE APOCALYPSE, Joel is 36, reader is 25] Joel thinks he’s got the hold over you, the upper hand for sure, that is until you challenge him and he discovers maybe he’s met his match.

Silence.

Is what Joel Miller craved for in the early hours of Tuesday morning. Birds sung loudly by the window sill, the sounds of voices flowing through the halls and squeezing between the crack in his bedroom door. He craved for just five more minutes.

“Daaaaaad!”

He grunted softly, burrowing his head deep into the pillow.

“Daaaad! Breakfast is ready!” Sarah called from the kitchen, followed by giggles and the crash of a frying pan hitting the porcelain floor tiling.

“Oh, shit!” You jumped backwards as pancake mixture splashed everywhere, splatters of liquid landing on your sheer tights.

“You’re literally the clumsiest person I know,” Sarah sighed, grabbing a cloth from the counter top and throwing it at you. You stuck out your tongue in dismay before crouching down and mopping up the liquid with the rag.

“He rises!” Sarah called, her voice following the footsteps that assented into the kitchen.

“Who you talkin’ to?”

“That would be me,” you smiled sheepishly, reaching a hand out above the counter top and waving towards the stairway while you continued to clean the residue seeping into the cracks between the tiles, “hey I hope you don’t mind but I think I broke your frying pan?”

“What, the third one this month?” Joel sighed, joking, but equally unamused.

“At least Y/N wakes up on time to make pancakes, for you might I add,” Sarah swatted her dads shoulder playfully as he took a seat at the small table just outside the kitchen.

“Ain’t you supposed to be at work?” Joel quizzed from the table, reaching out the grasp an apple from the fruit bowl as he flicked open the newspaper.

Your head popped up from behind the counter, tossing the rag into the sink and peering over at the older male, “ain’t you old enough to work an alarm?” You smirked playfully, “yeah, no, Zena is covering my shift this morning.”

“Why?” Joel pushed, biting down into the rosy apple clasped between his fingers.

“Never you mind,” you swooned, stepping out from behind the counter. His eyes fell to you like a sack of sugar, scanning you up and down. Your legs were laced in sheer black tights, hips sporting some high rise black torn shorts, oversized shirt which tied in the middle with ‘The Exorcist’ logo panning across the chest.

“Take a picture, it might last longer,” Sarah mumbled beneath her breath as she nudged her dads shoulder playfully, earning a glare from him. Sarah had soon caught on to her fathers not so subtle crush on you, and she figured the feelings were mutual considering the way you spoke to one another. Teasing, sometimes not so playfully. You were like an older sister to Sarah, so albeit it seemed a little strange, it was also funny watching the way you interacted with one another.

“C’mon, I’ll drop you off at school, pick you a breakfast bagel up on the way,” you raised your brows as you checked the clock, glancing over at Sarah and tilting your head slightly.

“Uh, uh, no way,” Joel protested, standing from the small round table, “you’re not getting on the back of that thing, I already told you that.”

“She has a spare helmet?” Sarah argued, gesturing towards you standing by the coat wrack.

“I already told you, no. No motorcycles.”

“Oh, c’mon old man, I know you’ve sported at least one in your lifetime,” you teased, folding your arms across your chest. He turned to you with a hardened stare, asking you as politely as he could muster not to push this further.

Sarah sighed, knowing there was no part arguing with him. Once he had his mind set, it was like pulling a sword from stone.

“You can take the bus, I’ll give you cash,” he spoke as he dug his hand into his back pocket, pulling out a five dollar bill.

“I got it,” you planted your hand on the table, sliding another five dollar bill across the fine wood, “covers the frying fan,” you scrunched your nose as you turned to Joel, seeing his expression fall as you smiled.

“Alright, fine,” he deducted the green note in his hand, tucking it back into his pocket, “c’mon you’re gonna be late,” he swiped his brow, ushering Sarah towards the door as he checked the time.

You made your way back into the kitchen whilst they said their goodbyes, picking up the rag in the kitchen sink and running the tap over it leisurely, watching as the pancake mix slowly began to run clean off the rag and down the sink hole.

You hadn’t heard the door close, the sound of the water hitting the basin of the sink drowning out the sounds around you, so when two firm hands caged you in against the kitchen counter your breath hitched suddenly. You flicked off the tap, relaxing as your senses were filled with Joel, his scent consuming you entirely.

“Can I help you with something?” You smirked devilishly, teasing him as you turned your head over your shoulder, catching his hooded eyes glaring at you. His hand snaked around your hip delicately, mapping out each curve carefully as his finger pads slid between your thighs.

This was something you had been longing for, and you couldn’t deny it any longer.

You’d been teasing Joel for the last few weeks just waiting for him to break, each time becoming a little more promiscuous. You figured it wouldn’t be long before he finally caved, but he held out strong. You weren’t sure why today was the day, but you weren’t complaining.

“You think you’re fuckin’ smart? Teasing me like that?” His voice was deep and gruff, breath hot as it fanned against the crook in your neck, his nose bumping your jaw as he placed it there carefully. You were yet to see this side of Joel, usually so loving and fatherly. This deepens, dark, dominant side made your skin shiver with excitement.

You bit your lip with a smile, cocking your brow as you spun in his embrace to face him, hands resting back against the counter, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your smirk drove him crazy, feeling the warmth of your hand slither between your bodies that were practically pressed together, groping his hardening length that pulsed hard behind his jeans, “but I think whatever it was… worked.”

If anything, you had this coming. You’d had your eyes on Joel for the last few months and you’d made that clear. Yes, he was your best friend going on younger sisters dad, but the heart wants what it wants, and the moment you caught his eyes staring you knew you had it in the bag.

He grasped your hips harshly, turning your back to face him, “you gonna act like a slut I’m gonna fuckin’ treat you like one.”

The sound of your shorts tearing made your heart skip a beat, his rough hands palming the plump of your ass cheek through your tights as he pressed his cock against you.

“Those where my favourite shorts,” you cursed, feeling the material drop to your feet as you took a step back, spinning on your heels and lacing your arm around his neck as you stepped into his space, drawing him out until his back slammed against the fridge, “you’re gonna pay for that.”

“Make me,” he groaned, lunging forward and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was heated from the get go, tongues fighting for dominance as his hand snaked down, hiking your thigh over his hip, your toes pressing into the cold metal of the fridge door as he ripped oxygen from your lungs.

All the pent up energy of longing looks, bending over a little too far whenever he was around, leaning against the doorframe so you could see the way his top rode just far enough up his torso to reveal the lining of his boxers was pouring into your lips. This wasn’t passion, this was desperation. This wasn’t want, this was need.

Your hand grasped his hair forcefully, fingers interlocking with his loose curls and tugging without mercy. He groaned softly at the sudden pain in his scalp, chin tilting to the ceiling as you held him there, licking a bold stripe up the length of his throat making him shiver.

Finally, someone who knew how to have a little fun.

You weren’t afraid to make those moves, because you knew travelling south, he was already mewling droplets of pre cum for you. You loosened your grip as you retracted your tongue into the warmth of your mouth, locking eyes with Joel as he dropped his chin back down to face you, “upstairs. Now.”

You stumbled up the steps as Joel tagged hot on your heels, kissing your neck fiercely as you breached the doorway. His large hands clasped the backs of your thighs, pulling you clean off your feet and laying you down against the mattress. You watched closely, chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tore off his shirt, tossing it down by the side of the bed and made quick work of his belt.

“Wait,” you leaned upwards quickly before he could discard the leather strap to the comfort of the carpet. Lacing your fingers around it delicately you peered up through lust filled eyes, “tie me up.”

“Fuck, you little slut,” he groaned, grasping the back of your hair and tugging harshly eliciting a strong gasp from the back of your throat. The pain was almost pleasurable as he held you there without menace, looking down at you with a sickening smirk.

“Dirty thing, aren’t you?” He hummed, “hands, now.”

You raised your hands before you as he released the grip on your head. Wrapping the leather around your wrists set your heart on fire, watching as he calculated the amount of times it swirled around before buckling it shut and tugging harshly, making sure it was secured in place.

“You haven’t even undressed me yet,” you smirked, brow ticking upwards slightly as he looked at you in realisation.

“Fuck it,” he groaned, grasping you by the hips and throwing you backwards. You adored the way he man handled you. Crawling above you slowly, he looked as though he was sent from above. So beautiful, sexy and delicate, yet hot and writhing with lust at the same time.

After hovering above you for a moment he sat to attention, thumbs sliding between the gap of his jeans and V line, slowly beginning to glide them down his muscular legs. You watched in awe as his cock sprang free, veins protruding, tip an angry red as it weeped his heavenly seed.

Your mouth ran dry, clit pulsing. You thought it was enough to make you cum on the spot. That was until he began touching himself, wrapping his bold fingers around the base and pumping slowly.

“Jesus, Joel,” you whimpered, rubbing your thighs together to try and gain some kind of friction. He tsk’d at your poor attempt to relieve the pressure gaining between your legs, chuckling lowly as his hands dropped from his cock to your legs. You jumped at the sudden touch, raising your arms above your head.

“That’s it, princess,” he smirked. His idle fingers graced you delicately, panning their route from your hip bone down to your heated thighs, “no underwear… dirty girl,” his breathing fell shallow at the faint scent of your arousal beginning to consume his senses.

“Please, Joel,” you whispered, lightly bucking your hips to him, begging for attention. He hooked his finger deep into the material of your rights and began tugging, shredding the material to gain access to your pulsing clit.

“Don’t hold back,” he breathed softly catching your attention. Before you could question his words he licked a bold, solid stripe up the length of your heat, watching your head fall back against the mattress, spine arching in ecstasy. The sounds you made only drove him on, collecting your arousal on his tongue to taste you in full.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned, large hands kneading the flesh of your thighs as he raised them over his shoulders, pulling you closer to his mouth. All the while he bathed in the pool of your rich taste, his hips had began to grind against the fabric of the quilt covering the mattress in a helpless attempt to relieve the pressure.

“Joel!” You squealed as his nose bumped your clit, the tip of his tongue swirling your hole in the process.

“Joel- Joel!” The hollow in your tone snatched his actions to a halt, sensing the way your stomach began to clench and hands fondled with the bed sheets that you were gaining on your orgasm.

“Asshole!” You cursed, raising your head from the mattress to see him smirking at you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“That’s no way to speak to me now, is it? After everything I’ve just given you,” without breaking eye contact he lowered his hands, grasping your thighs and tugging you close, “after everything I’m about to give to you,” he continued, suddenly feeling his tip at your entrance which had your teeth gnawing into your bottom lip.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you chanted with desperation, legs squirming in his grasp, “please, Joel, please-“

“Please what?”

“Fuck me!” You gasped, digging your heels down to pull him closer. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt his tip spread you wide, filling you inch by inch at a steady pace without halt despite your screams.

“Fuckin’ christ, Y/N,” he whimpered, your name sounding like heaven as it rolled off his tongue, “so fucking tight, so wet… so warm.”

“All for you, Joel,” you panted weakly, clenching around him making him wince. Not a second passed that he allowed you to adjust before he set a brutal pace, fucking into you without mercy. If it was desperation before you weren’t quite sure what to call this.

It was rough, your lungs burned from the screams that tore from your throat as you took everything he gave to you. He railed you without mercy, hips slamming into your core, tip working to rearrange the position of your organs. The sound of skin on skin filled the entirety of the house and you knew there was a possibility the whole neighbourhood could hear his name rolling off the tip of your tongue. He was needy, desperate but all the while managing to keep up the pace, never once letting slip. He pulsed as he rocked, grasping handfuls of flesh in a desperate plea to pull you closer, optimising for the ultimate option of holding you chest to chest.

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as he continued the brutal pace, breasts bouncing in unison to his thrusts. To the sudden taste of drawn blood you heard him curse, his cock delving deep into your core as he neared his end to the finish line.

“S-slow down,” you whimpered, “this doesn’t have to end, n-not yet,” you begged, not wanting the sensation of his cock deep inside you to dissipate within a moments notice. You’d craved this feeling for so long and you knew he felt the same.

“You’re too good for me,” he groaned, rolling his hips just as hard, but slowing in pace, “don’t know how badly I wanna f-fill you up,” he turned to face you as he spoke, eyes drifting down to your plump lips smothered in crimson.

“You’re bleeding,” he swallowed, “your lip, it’s bleeding.”

“Don’t go soft on me now,” you smirked breathlessly as the soft underbelly of his nature crawled through the cracks. He smiled softly, bringing his spare hand to your lip as he stilled within you, resting his length inside your core as the pad of his thumb drew softly against the indent in your lower lip.

You watched with shimmery eyes as he wiped the blood away, locking onto your iris with his own as he held you tight. You could suddenly feel the heat as it rushed to your cheeks, the vulnerability shining through. There were no words that were spoken as you felt the absence of need, just his soft lips on yours. The wound stung from a moment as his saliva mixed with your own, but then the passion sank in.

He lowered you softly as his kisses deepened and the pace of his thrusts turned soft, loving you in a subtle sort of way. His hands reached upwards slowly, pulling away from your lips to release you from your leather chains. Your wrists were sore from friction, but where erased upon feeling the softness of his cheeks against the palm of your hand.

The slam of a door suddenly echoed through the home, making your heart slam against your rib cage.

“Dad?” Sarah’s voice rang clear from the kitchen. Your eyes sprung wide, fighting against one another to pull away from your grip.

“Stay here,” Joel demanded as he grasped his jeans from the floor and departed out into the hallway in a hurry, straightening out his unruly hair as he paced, slamming the door behind him.

Breathless, you sat on the bed, covering yourself with a pillow and a dumb, childish smile came to your cheeks. As stupid as it was and as surreal as this all seemed, you had gained confirmation that the magic you had worked to win Joel Millers attention had worked.

Who’s to say it wouldn’t work again in the future?

This story was yet to be finished, and you couldn’t wait to read those final pages.

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 12

A mass casualty incident results in a close call as Joel tries to figure out what he can live with. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1 - 11, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence. Whole fic is very violent and smutty so Minors DNI, 18+ only. No use of Y/N.

Length: 4.8k

Tuesday, April 7, 2009 - 6 months later 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Andrew was leaned back in the office chair behind the front counter of the clinic, looking up at you. “I’m pretty sure you could set that man on fire and he’d still worship the ground you walk on.”

“There’s something wrong,” you shook your head, perched on the desk, your nails rapping on the underside of the table top. “Something’s going on, I can feel it. It’s like he’s pulling away from me…” 

It was a slow day in the clinic. You’d had three patients in three hours. But you weren’t about to SAY it was a slow day in the clinic, that was a sure fire way to get flooded with emergent patients and make it so you were stuck here all night. 

Of course, the way things had been with Joel lately, being stuck there all night might be a bonus.

“You could try actually talking to him you know,” he said. “Maybe ask if there’s something wrong…” 

“Is that what you and Jess do?” You teased. “Talk about your feelings like adults?” 

He laughed.

“Adults seems like a strong word for it but,” he shrugged. “Have you ever told him anything that happened? Anything at all? Or have you just tried pretending as though we still live sometime before the world ended?” 

“You’ve become more of a smartass in your 20s,” you glared at him. He snorted and you sighed. “You know, Joel and I dated for three years before. Two of those were long distance. And that was somehow easier than this.” 

“Well his kid died and you’re hiding everything that traumatized you when the world ended so that’s part of it,” he said dryly. 

“Jess needs to stop giving you psych major advice,” you muttered. 

“No, the QZ just needs a therapist so you can go work your shit out.” 

Marta, a girl who had just started working at the clinic came and leaned on the counter. 

“Man, it’s slow today,” she sighed, looking bored. You and Andrew both groaned. She frowned. “What?”

“You’ve cursed us,” Andrew muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever happens in the next 10 minutes? On you.” 

“What’s going to happen?” She scoffed. “It’s been dead all day.” 

“Stop making it worse!” You groaned. 

“It’ll be fine,” she said. “You’ll see.” 

Nine minutes later, a security guard from the main gate ran up, out of breath and splattered in blood. 

“Convoy from Atlanta got swarmed,” he was panting. “Need medical, everyone you can spare.” 

“Shit,” Marta said. 

You ran and grabbed the go bags of emergency supplies, sending Marta to go grab Dr. Lee and Dr. Elias from home. 

“Kristen,” you yelled to the one remaining nurse in the floor as you ran out the door. “Hold down the fort and try to keep everyone alive until we get back!”

“Dammit Marta,” she muttered, sitting down at the front desk and glaring at the door, almost daring anyone else to come in. 

You, Dr. Martin, Lucy - another nurse - and Andrew ran clear across the QZ, loaded down with medical equipment until you reached the front gate. 

It was absolute chaos. People were bloody, moaning. Someone - a kid - was screaming. Your ears rang, tension growing in your chest. You dug your nails into your palm, grounding yourself, and took over. 

“Set up a supply station there,” you pointed to an alcove of a building that should provide shelter in case a spring ran decided to move through. “Andrew, you’re lead on triage with Lucy. Lucy, you handle everything yellow down. Move yellow to the clinic when you can. Flag Martin or I for orange and higher. Security can do infection scans once we’re through triage unless there’s a visible bite, overnight holding for green and blue transfers at the main gate, we don’t have the kind of room at the clinic for this…”

“This is fucked,” Andrew looked out at the 100 or so people. 

“And it was a slow day,” you muttered. 

You all jumped into action, Andrew and Lucy only getting one or two patients in before flagging more emergent injuries. One person had part of a steering column lodged in their stomach and you got security to rush him to the clinic to get stabilized until you could get there. Another had an almost totally amputated arm and you completed the amputation in the field with Andrew holding him down. You stitched chest wounds closed, set exposed bones. Blood that wasn’t yours was on your face. Lee and Elias showed up about an hour in.

“We’ve got it,” Martin said, working on a head lac that looked like it came from a skull fracture. “Go handle surgical.” 

You just gave him a nod, racing back across the QZ and directly into a scrub room. 

Kristen had managed to stabilize the patient with part of a car in his stomach - her trauma nurse skills from before the outbreak being infinitely handy in the QZ - and it took you hours to patch him up. 

You were relieved that Martin was back when you got done, working with other patients that he’d stabilized in the field. 

“They’re doing infection testing now,” he said by way of greeting. “These folks are cleared to go into holding but there’s a lot of failures at the gate. Can you run some euth kits down?” 

You glanced at the clock. It was pushing midnight. You were still covered in blood. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’ve got it.” 

You gathered the supplies and ran, again, back across the QZ to the gate. Your legs were tired. You wanted to just lay down and sleep in the road. Or at least have the luxury of trudging to the place where you’d be killing people. But you had to run. If you didn’t move quickly, people who could have been spared the horror of turning would need to be shot instead of humanely injected, putting them out of their misery before the misery truly began. 

You still hated it. 

Security directed you to holding. There were about two dozen people who were pinging as infected. You gave them a quick examination - confirming a bite - and tried to tell them what was about to happen in a way that wasn’t horrific. But how did you tell someone you were about to kill them - even if it would be painless, even if it would be a mercy - and not have it be horrifying? 

Some were numb, just nodding along. You asked if they had anything they wanted to say, anyone they wanted to leave a message for. Few did. Others were inconsolable, screaming and sobbing. You stayed with them until they fell unconscious - which only took a few minutes - and tried to set your feelings aside until you were done. 

It was after 2 a.m. when you reached the teenaged girl’s room. 

You saw her through the pane of glass in the door first. She was sitting on the bed, staring into space. Her face was wet. 

“Oh no,” you breathed. You couldn’t help it. You knocked once and then opened the door. 

“Hi there,” you gave her a sad smile. 

“You’re here to kill me aren’t you?” She asked, her eyes wide. 

“I need to check you over first,” you said. “Confirm…” 

She stuck her arm out, a bite mark at her wrist. 

“Then yes,” you sighed. “I’m here to kill you.” 

She sniffed once and then nodded. 

“I can tell you it’ll be better this way,” you said softly. “I’ve seen people turn. It’s hard. This is better. Like falling asleep after a really long, hard day.” 

“I don’t want to die,” she was crying. “I didn’t even do anything yet, no one is going to remember me yet…” 

“What about your family?” You asked, cautiously taking a seat beside her. She didn’t object. 

“My parents died out there,” she nodded toward the gate. “Before we made it this far. We were supposed to be coming here, FEDRA sent my dad here…” 

You nodded slowly. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Bethany,” she sniffed. “Beth.” 

“Beth,” you said. She nodded. “Would it be OK if I remembered you? I’d like to remember you.” 

“You don’t even know me,” her chin quivered. 

“We have a few minutes,” you said, glancing at her wrist. “Tell me some things about you. How old are you?” 

“I’m 13,” she said. 

“What do you like to do?” You asked.

She paused for a moment. 

“I played soccer, before,” she said. Her tears were slowing. “I scored three goals in the last game I remember. My dad called it a hat trick.” 

“That’s impressive,” you smiled. You brushed some of her hair back from her face. “You must be good.” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah, I am.” 

“What else do you like?” You asked. “What makes you feel something?” 

“I write poems,” she said, looking down at her lap. 

“Poems?” You asked. 

“They’re not very good,” she shrugged. “But I like them. They help me think, understand what I’m feeling. I’m not great at making them rhyme, though.” 

“Poems don’t have to rhyme,” you said. “They just need to capture a feeling. Do your poems capture a feeling?” 

“I think so,” she shrugged. 

“Then they’re good.” 

You glanced at her wrist again, the signs of Cordyceps working their way up her arm to her brain. 

“I need to inject you now, Beth,” you said. “You’ll be awake for a few minutes after that. We can keep talking if you want.” 

“Will you stay with me after?” She asked. “I don’t want to die alone…” 

“I’ll stay,” you said. She nodded. “What’s one thing you’ll miss about Atlanta? Did you live there a while?” 

“Since I was nine,” she sniffed. You prepped the syringe. “I liked the weather. It was always warm there.” 

“Just a small poke,” you said, pressing the needle into her arm and pushing down the plunger. You pulled it back and massaged the spot on her arm gently. “I bet it is always warm there. I went to college in Texas, it was always warm there. It was nice. I miss that, too.” 

She looked at you. 

“If I lie down, will you hold me?” She asked. You nodded. She stretched out on the cot and you lay behind her, tugging her back against you. She snuggled into your body. “Can you stay until I…” 

“I’ll stay,” you said quietly. “Is there anything you want to tell anyone? I can find someone, get them a message…” 

“My friend, Cara, in Atlanta,” she said. “Can you just tell her goodbye for me? That I’ll miss her?” 

“Is she 13 like you?” You asked. She just nodded. “I can find her.” 

“Thank you,” she said. She was quiet for a minute. “I think I’m going to miss the sky. I always liked the sun and the clouds and the stars. It was so big. And the moon. I always wanted to be someone who got to walk on the moon.” 

“It’s a good goal,” you said. You could feel some of the tension leaving her body. “You’d be a good astronaut."

She nodded a little. 

“I’m getting tired,” she said. “Really tired…” 

“It’s OK Beth,” you kept holding her. 

“There are poems, in my bag,” she said, her voice fading. “Can you keep one for me?” 

“I’ll keep them all,” you said. You held her closer, stroked her hair. “It’s OK, Beth. It’s OK.” 

You held her until she stopped breathing. 

You were numb as you gently pulled yourself from her body, going to her bag in the corner. Inside there was a notebook. The pages were crinkled and the cover was peeling but it was almost filled with poems. Your eyes couldn’t seem to focus enough to actually read any, but you held it to your chest and went to the next room. 

You weren’t paying as much attention as you should have been when security let you into the next room. You were focused on not crying, trying to treat the person you were about to kill with the dignity they deserved. 

“Hi there,” you said. 

He turned toward you and ran, arms outstretched, teeth bared. It took you a moment to understand what was happening, process it fully. You barely had a chance to scream before he collided with you. 

You tried to hold him back but he was large and you were tired, your arms giving out quickly as your hands instinctively clutched the notebook and the euthanasia kit. The man’s mouth got near your throat just as security burst in the door and shot him, covering you with blood. They pulled him off you and screamed for something but you couldn’t really understand what. It was like they were speaking a different language. They pulled you up and moved you to the cot and you sat there, staring into space for a moment. You set the kit and the notebook down as one of the guards gently took your chin and tilted your head, examining your neck. 

“No!” 

Andrew’s voice snapped you out of your own head. You blinked for a moment, surprised to see him there, surprised to hear him screaming. He tried to come in the room but a guard held him back. 

“She’s not…” he was straining in the guard’s arms. “You’re wrong!” 

It confused you for a moment. You weren’t sure what he was yelling about, it didn’t make sense. 

“We haven’t tested yet,” the guard said. “It doesn’t look like a distinct bite, it could just have been a cut in the scuffle and it’s nothing…” 

You frowned, your hand cupping your throat. There was a sharp pain at the side. Your hand had a smear of blood when you pulled it away. 

“I got bit?” You looked up at the guards for a moment. 

For a moment, part of you was relieved. If you’d been bitten, you could just be euthanized and that was that. You wouldn’t have to keep trying anymore. No more days where you killed more people than you saved, no more wondering what the child you lost would be like now, no more trying to figure out why the person you loved more than anything else was growing distant. 

“We don’t know that,” the guard said quickly. “We’ll get a scanner in here in just a second…” 

As if on cue, Elias ran in, eyes wide. 

“They don’t know yet,” Andrew said quickly. 

“I’ve got a scanner,” Elias said, pushing past the guard who was busy holding Andrew in place. He all but ran to you, kneeling at your side and taking your arm. You felt the prick as it collected a sample and waited a moment. The scanner glowed green. Elias’ shoulders relaxed. 

“Negative,” he held it up to show you. 

“Thank fuck,” Andrew sighed from the doorway.

“It could be a false negative,” you said.

“It’s not,” he said, voice certain, his eyes soft. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen Elias like this. He’d taken you under his wing, worked with you for years. He was probably the closest thing you had to a father. You just hadn’t realized he might have felt the same way about you. “You’ll be fine, hear me? You’re going to be fine.”  

“Do we move her to holding?” One of the guards asked. “We can’t leave her in here with…” 

“We can take her to the clinic,” Andrew said quickly. “She should be at the clinic.” 

You barely remembered the walk across the QZ. Your legs were heavy. Andrew’s arm was around your shoulder. There were guards around you. You were still covered in blood. 

“I’m going to go get Joel,” Andrew said from the other side of the bars as soon as you were in holding. 

“No,” you shook your head. “No, don’t… that’s OK.” 

“He’d want to be here,” he frowned. 

“It’s fine,” you said. “Don’t drag him down here, it’s just 12 hours, I’ll be fine. He doesn’t even need to know, he has to work early tomorrow anyway…” 

“Can’t have you back here,” the guard said to Andrew. 

“Oh come on,” he protested but the guard shook his head. Andrew narrowed his eyes at him. “Fine.” He looked to you. “You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. I’ll be back here in 12 hours. You’ll be fine.” 

You smiled a little and nodded, waiting until he left before you let exhaustion and numbness consume you. 

***

“Don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, Joel,” Tommy snapped as they sat in their sparsely furnished living room, beers in hand. 

“It hasn’t gotten better,” Joel replied, taking a drink. “I don’t think I can keep doin’ this.” 

“At some point that girl is gonna stop forgiving you for being a dumbass and she’s not gonna take you back,” Tommy warned. Joel sighed. 

“Maybe she should,” he said, swirling the beer in his glass. 

For Joel, adjusting to QZ life had been shit. He wasn’t used to existing with people anymore, functioning with rules and not just taking what he needed when he needed it. He’d blown the three chances you’d gotten him for permanent job placements. He’d been so bored doing building repair he’d snapped at his coworkers one too many times. His manager at the warehouse job had been a fucking jackass and didn’t take too kindly to Joel telling him so. The third one really hadn’t been his fault, a guy on the delivery crew he was on cat called a girl who couldn’t have been more than 14. Joel decked him in the middle of the street. 

“Don’t know why I can’t just come work in the clinic with you,” he muttered one evening, sitting at your kitchen table.  

“Really?” You’d raised your eyebrows at him, incredulous. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “You must have something that needs doing.” 

“Well yeah,” you laughed a little. “But Joel, come on. You have no medical experience or interest in getting any. Your bedside manner is shit….” 

You trailed off. He waited for you to finish. 

“And?” He asked. You sighed. 

“And…” you looked at the ceiling for a moment before looking at him again. “I helped set that clinic up. It means a lot to me. I don’t want to damage it by convincing my boss to hire my boyfriend only to have him punch the first guy who looks at me funny.” 

He ground his teeth before getting up and going for the door. 

“Joel,” you sighed. “Please don’t…” 

“Should go check on Tommy,” he muttered. “Haven’t seen ‘em in a few days.” 

He stalked out and didn’t come back for two days. He’d been stuck doing odd jobs ever since. 

The unease at being away from you hadn’t gotten any better. Every time you weren’t near, he felt sick. His chest got tight, his stomach turned. He couldn’t handle it. He knew he couldn’t live his life glued to your side, always touching you, always knowing you were OK. He knew that. But he wasn’t sure he could live his life loving you, either. It was too scary, too painful. It was like his mind was bracing for the worst, all the time. Anything at all was better than being caught off guard by losing you. It was self preservation, trying to not love you. He wouldn’t be capable of surviving your loss. It would be safer to cut things off when he had control. He’d stay alive if he could just fucking do it. Love was just too big a risk. 

“You really just want to live in misery for the rest of your goddamn life?” Tommy asked, getting worked up. “Because that seems to be what you’re gunnin’ for.” 

“I just want to not be afraid all the fuckin’ time,” he snapped. “I want something quiet and easy, something that isn’t overwhelming all the goddamn time. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

“Fuckin’ moron,” Tommy muttered, downing the rest of his beer and going to bed. 

Joel stayed up for a while after, staring into nothing, trying to imagine what life without you would be. He could still keep an eye on you. Check in, make sure you were safe. But if there was some distance, maybe he could pull himself away from you. Have some hope of disentangling himself from you enough that it wouldn’t destroy him if you got hurt. It was the end of the world, you were going to get hurt at some point. You were safer in the QZ than outside it, the life you’d built here was relatively safe. But at some point, you’d get attacked by a patient, piss off FEDRA, get bit by an errant infected that had worked its way inside the walls of the QZ. It was coming. He could feel it coming. He needed to be far enough away from you when it happened that it didn’t kill him. Otherwise what had been the fucking point of all this? He had to live for Tommy at the very least. Keep his kid brother’s nose clean. He couldn’t do that and lose you, not like this. 

He got up early, worked a shift dealing with some sewer maintenance. Wednesdays were shorter days for you so he decided to go to your place after getting cleaned up. He hadn’t figured out how to extract himself from you yet, not really. He used that as is excuse for still showing up at your place almost every damn day. It was self preservation. He needed to be near you until he could figure out how to not be. 

But there was something off about your apartment when he walked in. The air was oddly stale, like it hadn’t been disturbed in more than a day. The note he’d written to tell you he was planning to sleep at his place was in the spot where he’d left it on your table. It was like you hadn’t even touched it. You hadn’t been home. 

Oh God, you hadn’t been home. 

He ran out so fast he had to double back to lock your doors. He took the stairs two at a time, the fist that wrapped around his chest when you weren’t near gripping tighter. He ran for the clinic. Fuck, he hoped you made it to the clinic yesterday. If he hadn’t, he’d have to rip the fucking city apart to find you. He would, he didn’t give a fuck, but a starting point… he needed a starting point. 

He ripped the doors open. Andrew wasn’t at the front desk, instead a woman he’d seen in passing but whose name he’d never bothered to learn was sitting there. 

“Mr. Miller,” she called but he ignored her, going for the doors leading to the back. He yanked them open and started checking exam rooms. No sign of you. He yelled your name, looking around for some sign of you, someone who knew where you were. The woman from the desk caught up to him. 

“Mr. Miller,” she said. He looked down at her. “She’s back in holding…” 

His legs damn near gave out. 

“Holding?” He fought to keep his voice steady. His head spun. The grip on his chest got tighter. “What… how…” 

“There was an incident early this morning,” she checked her watch. “She should be free to go any minute now. Andrew is waiting too…” 

“Where?” He asked, looking around. He’d spent almost no time back in the exam area, he didn’t know where shit was. The woman pointed him down a hall and he ran for it until he almost ran into you, tucked into Andrew’s side with his arm around you, a blanket over you. You were covered in blood, staring straight ahead like you were in a daze. 

“Good of you to fucking show up,” Andrew glared at him. 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“Convoy from Atlanta got overrun by infected,” he muttered, continuing to guide you through the clinic. “We were out doing what we could until well after fuckin’ midnight. Guards said she didn’t sleep either… Around 3 a.m. she was doing euthanasias when one turned earlier than they expected. We thought it might have gotten her on the throat, the scanner was negative but there was a scratch… She was already so covered in blood we weren’t sure what it was from…” 

“Oh Baby,” he went to hold your face but you flinched away from him, clutching something in your arms closer to your chest. A notebook. He frowned. “Can I see that?” 

He went to take it from you but you pulled it away. 

“She was like Jessica,” your voice was flat. “I killed her, too…” 

Joel frowned, looking from you to Andrew. 

“Shit,” he muttered. “Let’s just get her home…” 

The three of you got odd looks from everyone around you, two large men helping the dazed, bloody woman home. No one dared stop them, though. Joel let you into your apartment. Andrew peeled the blanket off you slowly. You were still in the clothes you’d worn the day before but they were caked in blood and mud. You clutched the notebook to your chest. 

“Hey,” Andrew said, brushing your hair back. “Can I leave you with him? Is that OK? Will you be OK?” 

You frowned a little but nodded. 

“Good,” he kissed your forehead. “I need to go see Jess, give her an update… Don’t shut down on me, OK?” 

You nodded again. He looked to Joel. 

“She goes totally non-responsive?” He said. “Come get me. Immediately.”

“Non-responsive?” Joel asked, keeping a hand on you. 

“I’ve only seen her do it once,” he said. “It took a lot to get her there but last night was fucking awful…” 

“I’ve got her,” Joel said. Andrew looked him up and down. 

“Fuckin’ better,” he muttered, giving you a last look before turning to go. 

Joel needed to get you cleaned up. He tried to extract the notebook from your grasp but you held tight. 

“Baby, you have to let this go,” he said gently. 

“I told her I’d keep it,” you said softly. He wasn’t sure he’d seen you blink yet. “I promised…” 

“You can have it back after you shower,” he said. Your hold on the notebook loosened and he was able to pull it away. He steered you to the bathroom and turned on the water as he slowly, carefully removed your bloody clothes. 

“She was like Jessica,” you said again. Your voice was quiet. 

“Who was?” He asked, hesitant to push you too far. 

“Beth,” your eyes met his for the first time. “I killed her, too. She wanted to live, too.” 

Joel got your shirt over your head. 

“Who was Jessica?” He asked quietly. Your eyes searched his for a moment. 

“Louisa’s daughter,” you said eventually. “She called me after you did that night. She was afraid. Louisa had turned, she needed help. I picked her up. I killed… There was a neighbor. She had a collie named Rebel, Louisa used to sing ‘Rebel Rebel’ when they’d walk by the house… She’d turned, too. I killed her, got Jessica out. 

“We were OK for a while,” you were staring at Joel’s chest now but it was like he wasn’t even there. “Found Andrew in the woods. But, on my birthday, we got overrun by infected… I held them off but one came from the side, got her from there. We were so close to a check point, they saw the bite, they killed her… I didn’t see it coming, not the infected, not them shooting her… She was so scared, Joel. I held her, tried to make it better… She didn’t want to die and I let her… I told her I’d keep her safe and I let her die…” 

Joel pulled you into his chest, his arms going around you so tight he should have been worried that he was going to break you but he just couldn’t hold you close enough. 

“It’s OK Baby,” he said, voice cracking. He was drowning memories of that night. Running with Sarah, promising to protect her, feeling her die in his arms… You were still covered in blood. 

He finished getting you undressed and helped you into the shower. He stepped in with you, fully clothed. He carefully tipped your head back, rinsing the blood from your hair before moving on to the rest of you. 

“It’s OK Baby,” he said again. 

It took time to get you cleaned up. He helped you into sweats and put you to bed when you got out of the shower. He climbed in beside you and you wrapped around him, clinging to him. He looked down at you, his chest still tight. You were going to be the death of him. He could feel it. If he didn’t get some distance soon, loving you was going to kill him.

A/N: I did warn you that drama was coming. I'm sorry to say that things are going to get worse for Joel and our FMC for a while before they get better. But they will get better EVENTUALLY. It'll just take some time. And some plot points.

Thank you again for reading and interacting! Reading your thoughts and feelings about this piece is such a joy, I appreciate each and every one of you. So much love!

[littlelou22]

just a dream | joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you have a nightmare and joel comforts you after it

warnings: soft!joel, canon tlou violence, fluff, no use of y/n, violent nightmare, let me know if i missed any

divider credit: @saradika

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: thank u to my sweet @northernbluess for requesting this. i hope i did it justice for u🫶🏻

You awoke, alone in a room. One firefly guard stationed in the hallway. No Joel or Ellie in sight. Panic creeped up your throat, feeling as though it would suffocate you. Especially if you didn’t find the two people you called your family.

The gunshot that rings through the air does nothing to ease your panic.

You slide out of the bed before tip-toeing to the door, pressing your ear against it to try to hear what is happening on the other side. Listening as the firefly on the other side of the door receives word of an attack on the hospital by a lone male, for all units to respond immediately. The guard swears before stomping away, towards the sound of the gunshots.

You know it’s Joel, it has to be.

Frantically looking around the room for anything to serve as a weapon, you find a lone scalpel. It’ll have to do, you think to yourself as you take a deep breath, steeling yourself before opening the door as quietly as possible.

You slowly creep out of the room, looking both ways down the hallways before sneaking towards what once was a nurses station. You circle around it, finding the firefly that was previously outside of your room crouched in front of you, facing the opposite direction.

Without hesitation, you throw yourself forward, covering their mouth with one hand as the other sweeps the scalpel across the front of their throat. You silently wrestle with the firefly until they go limp, dropping the body to the ground before you strip them of all weapons and ammunition.

After arming yourself, you begin to sweep each hallway, inching your way closer and closer to the echoes of gunshots. You pray silently that it is Joel as you take down any guard that crosses your path.

You round another corner and come face to face with the barrel of a gun. A shocked gasp escapes your lips as you are tugged into a side room. The light flickers on and reveals Joel’s blood splattered face.

“They got her on the top floor,” he grunts. “They’re going to kill her for the cure.”

Your stomach drops at his words. “What’s the plan?”

“Kill them all.”

The two of you work in sync as you continue towards the top floor, bodies left behind in your wake. The door to the operating room comes into view at the end of the hallway, Joel breaks out into a sprint. You quicken your pace, following him as he barrels the door down.

Your stomach turns at the sight of a body with a sheet covering them, blood staining the sheet at the head. Your eyes widen at the sight of a doctor, blood soaking the front of his scrubs. A sob escapes you as you realize you were too late.

Ellie was dead.

Joel surges forward at the doctor. A gunshot rings through the air and he topples to the floor, groaning as blood pours from the wound. You watch as the blood pools around him, growing larger with each moment.

A group of fireflies rush in the room, swarming you with their guns drawn.

You scream but there’s no use.

Ellie is dead. Joel is dead.

You scream as a guard grabs you from behind, pulling your thrashing body away from the sight. You fight as hard as you can, kicking your feet and screaming.

But it’s no use.

Ellie is dead.

Joel is dead.

Joel was awoke by whimpers. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced over at your anything but calm frame. You were shaking and crying, clearly disturbed by whatever you were dreaming about.

Joel’s hands gently grasping your shoulders. He was delivering soft shakes in an attempt to wake you up without scaring you. A scream involuntarily leaves you and you push back against the feeling of hands on you.

“Get the fuck off of me,” you rasp, half asleep and still thrashing. As your mind is still clouded with the nightmare, you did not take kindly to the seemingly unfamiliar hands gripping onto you.

Before Joel is able to wake you fully, your survival instincts kick in. Your own hands reach up to his shoulders, using as much force as you can to throw him back in your slumber state. He tumbles backwards, back meeting the mattress as he didn’t expect a reaction like this from you. Your knees settle on each side of him, straddling his hips before latching your hands onto his neck, pushing your body weight into them.

You’re about to start squeezing when the ringing in your ears subsides and Joel’s voice replaces it.

“Baby, it’s me,” Joel whispers, hands wrapped around your wrist. He’s gently thumbing the top of your hand, eyes searching your frantic face. His own face calm, even with your hands pressing into his throat. “It’s okay, was just a dream.”

Blinking once, twice, three times before his words sink in. Immediately removing your hands from around his neck, your eyes flit around the room rapidly, chest heaving as you begin to come out of the fog of your previous nightmare.

“I…I,” you stutter, shaking your head as your eyes settle back on Joel. The sight of him on his back, neck slightly pink from supporting your weight for a few moments, clouds your vision with tears.

“Ellie…” you sob before frantically trying to remove yourself from Joel’s hips. Images of her, or what was left of her, on the operating table from your dream flash in your mind. “I…couldn’t save her.”

“Sh, baby, she’s okay.” His hands wrap around your hips, Joel immediately sits up. One hand reaches for your cheek, thumbing away the tears that flooded your cheeks. “It was just a dream, she’s asleep in her shed.”

You shake your head, attempting to shake away the images swirling in your mind.

Ellie on the operating table, the doctor’s surgical gloves stained red. You were too late.

Joel on the ground by your feet, the pool of his blood seeping into your shoes. His hands stained red from clutching at his stomach. You were too slow.

“Y…you.”

“M’right here,” Joel reaches for you hand, moving it to rest on his chest. You feel the steady thumping of his heart as he laces his fingers with yours, his opposite hand still resting on your cheek. “It was just a dream, sweetheart.”

Between the steady beating of his heart against your palm and the thumbing on your cheek, your gasping breaths turn to gentle pants. The images in your mind fade more with each thump thump and the man in front of you becomes clearer.

“Just breathe,” Joel whispers, inhaling deeply to match your own. “Ellie is alive, I am alive, you are alive. We’re all safe, okay? Just breathe.”

You again mimic his breathing, not yet trusting your voice as you turn your face to press a kiss to Joel’s palm. He smiles softly at your action, leaning forward to gently ghost his lips against your forehead.

“Do you want to lay back down?” He asks softly, replacing his lips by leaning his own forehead against yours.

After you nod, Joel gently maneuvers the two of you until your backs are resting against the mattress. He adjusts you, hands as soft as ever, so that you are pressed against his side. You burrow yourself into him, wrapping your arm around his waist as you rest your head on his chest.

Joel begins to run his fingers through your hair and you continue to focus on his heart beat, listening to the thumps rather than feeling it with your hand. Just as before, you feel yourself continue to relax with each passing thump, sinking further into the man you love.

“Do you want to talk ‘bout it?” The man in questions asks, voice laced with sleep. His fingers continue to brush through your hair.

In the dark, you smile at his gentle touches. If only Tommy could see him now, you think.

“Y’don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Joel assures you, tucking you in closer with the arm that is wrapped around you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, relaxing against him. “I want to.”

You press a kiss to his chest, taking a deep breath as you replay the memories from your nightmare.

“It was at the hospital, in Salt Lake,” you start with a deep, shuddering breath. “It felt so real, like we were actually there. It started the same, Ellie reading her puns and then the smoke, then nothing.”

Recounting the tales of your nightmare, you close your eyes as the memories of it sneak back into your mind.

“I woke up alone, in the hospital. I heard gunshots and I followed them. It was you, just like how it happened. We got to the operating room but,” your voice cracks. “W…we were too late. They had already cut into her. She was gone.”

Fresh tears spill down your cheeks as you continue to tell Joel what had happened in your dream.

“You lunged at them but a group of fireflies came in and shot you. I watched you bleed out,” you sob. “They tried to drag me out of the room but I wouldn’t let them. I tried so hard, but then I woke up.”

Joel’s motions in your hair cease before both of his arms are wrapped around you, dragging you closer and squeezing you to him. He whispers gently into your ear as you sob into him, reliving what was easily the worst dream of your life.

Once your sobs turn to silently streaming tears, Joel speaks. “I’m right here, baby. I know it felt s’real but it was just’a dream. Ellie is safe here with us. Nothing happened to me, we’re right here with you.”

You sniffle, nodding.

“Nothing will happen to us, okay?” Joel tilts your head up, gently grasping your chin. “We’re safe here and nothing is going to happen to you, to Ellie, or to me. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you squeak. “Promise?”

Joel leans forward, pressing his lips softly with yours for a moment before leaning back. You tuck your head into his neck and breathe him in deeply.

“I promise.”

[brook-e-lynns]

KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER |JOEL MILLER| SERIES

SERIES MASTERLIST // NEXT PART

Part one.

Summary : Joel and Ellie have been on the run for a while but things change when they find a woman who has been locked in a basement for too long.

SPOILERS FOR BOTH GAMES AND THE SHOW!

Warnings: Angst, abuse, kidnapping, blood and violence, hurt/comfort.

Note: I’m really just gonna jump right into this and it’s gonna be a crazy start.

Not edited or beta’d

Any type of feedback is greatly appreciated

Enjoy!

——————————————————————————

"Can you keep up, we gotta get there before it gets dark or else we're stuck in the open" joel urges his fingers looped around the right strap of his backpack. "wait wait wait listen to this one" Ellie runs in front of Joel walking backwards to look at him.

"what did the blanket say when it fell off the bed" a long pause of Joel ignoring Ellie. Her smile growing

"oh sheet" she giggles slapping his arm with her book he releases a deep sigh sick of Ellie's stupid dad jokes.

The journey continued, until they found an old store trailing away from the old dirt road into the long overgrown grass to the building. Joel motions for Ellie to get low to a kneel Holding his gun in front of him. Joel does his check making sure they can enter.

"Look for supplies" he motions for her to go in " but keep quiet"

Ellie digs through the broken shelves pulling old wrappers from the floor the dirt and debris covering what's left of the tiles. Ellie's head whips towards the staircase door with the sound of banging. " Joel" she calls in a hushed harsh voice trying to get his attention. "Joel did you hear that" Joel's brows pinch together once he finally hears whatever the hell she was talking about. "Stay behind me and get your knife out" Ellie quickly pulls her backpack in front of her, whipping her knife out of the front pocket, zipping it back up, swinging it back over her shoulder.

A loud shriek comes from the staircase "do you think was a-" she was cut off by a gunshot

Silence.

Ellie's eyes widened knowing that if it was, it's dead now. " Are we gonna go down?" She asks her knuckles turning white from the amount of pressure she is applying to the hilt of her knife.

" Keep your distance, is that clear?!" his eyes narrow at her making sure she understands "crystal"

Joel's hands tighten around his gun ready for whatever is down those stairs, all he knew was something was still alive down there or infected.

Taking each step with caution. Looking around his surroundings smeared blood that was definitely fresh from someone or something and the bloody footprints. "Joel" she sheethes quietly. He ignores her taking another step " asshole" she mumbles under her breath.

"Ellie give me your flashlight!" Of course he has his own but Ellie's was easier to access in the time that they had. Ellie stares at him with a dumb founded look before taking a step back up towards the top of the stairs flipping a light switch, the hallway illuminating.

"Well mr grumpy pants, I checked my surroundings, unlike someone" she says back in her regular sarcastic tone.

A quick shuffle comes from the room at the bottom of the stairs. Joel takes the last few steps down. His eyes search the room for the source of the sound.

Staring at the bodies on the ground before they land on you.

Your hands shaking as you point the gun straight at him, your knees are tucked into your chest not wanting to leave your corner, there's blood splattered across your face and chest mixing with tears as they stream down your cheeks. your body heaving in deep breaths. "holy shit" Ellie mumbles , staring at the damage that you had caused to the men on the ground. "Ellie, grab the kit from my bag"

Joel sticks his hand out his palm facing you slowly inching his way towards you. "I'm gonna help you alright?" He slowly lowers himself to the ground. He flattens his palm reaching for your gun, Your body tenses pushing every part of your body as far into the corner as you could, his hand taking grasp of your gun before setting it on the ground. He reaches behind him Ellie handing him his small white box pulling out gauze and his water from the side pocket of his backpack. Placing the gauze onto the rim of his bottle before flipping it over wetting the gauze.

He inches closer" I'm not gonna hurt you I promise, but l'm gonna help you get cleaned up alright" his voice was soft and was a kind a voice that Ellie had never heard him use and he was gentle rather then his normal grumpy state.

Your body shakes the closer he gets to his hand holding the gauze coming closer to your cheeks. you suck in a startled breath,your hand quickly grabbing his wrist. Your eyes gave him the look of fear which he knew too well. " I'll be gentle," he nods. Your grip loosens. "Got a name?" He asks wiping off the blood from your face. What was the worst that could happen by trusting him, he's already treating you better then you've been treated in years.

"Stas" you whisper under your breath " is that short for anything?" He asks, you stare at him for a second before answering. "Anastasia" his fingers rub against your split lip with the damp gauze.

Ellies takes her time exploring the room staring at all the little things that could give them any hint of who you actually are and why you were here.

The singular blanket and wadded up jacket hinted that you were most likely alone and the marks on the wall that look like you've been counting.

How long have you been here, why were you here?

Ellie moves to awkwardly stand behind Joel, she has the look of curiosity plaster on her face.

She's never seen Joel so caring, not even with Tess he's gentle, and he's definitely masking his grumpiness with whatever the hell he's doing.

You let out a deep shaking breath once Joel finishes his job cleaning the blood off your face. Your jaw clenched not sure what to do now, all of you sitting in silence for a few beats before Ellie's mind had to have the answers her questions, "so" she drags on

" How long have you been down here?" You look up at the young girl wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. " a while" you say under your breath. You had known exactly how long you have been down here because everyday was torture.

The QZ definitely were not the good guys, you were found just outside of one of their zones but of course they didn't want you there, you were an outsider.

Kathleen of course was hesitant to let you in but she did. She could get whatever she wanted out of you.

You wouldn't budge so she took more drastic measures. Which is why you're in a basement in the middle of nowhere.

So to say you have trust issues would be an understatement but his hands were gentle and he was kind which is what you needed right now.

" I'm Joel, this is Ellie" he said gesturing to her, Ellie gave a small wave. " are you trying to get somewhere" you shake your head " have anywhere to go" another shake of your head.

Joel drops his head in defeat, he couldn't leave you behind after hearing how long you've been here he didn't want to risk them coming back for you.

"Damn it" he grunts" okay, you've got two options, you can stay here and figure something out or you can come with us to Wyoming and we can get you settled somewhere" he offers you to sit in silence taking in everything he had just said. If you stay here they will find you sooner or later and they won't show any mercy, but if you go with them, you won't be alone.

"Which one is safer?" You ask , your voice is still quiet.

"Neither" he admits, he sticks his hand back at you, his palm sticking up and you place your shaking hand on top of his. His soft brown eyes give you a sympathetic look. He helps you stand though you're scared your body will give out as soon as you stand.

Joel supports your body until you're completely standing up. "We've got to get moving if we want to get to bill n° franks before it gets dark '' Joel towers over you his tan jacket straining over his biceps his knuckles are bruised and red. He gives you an awkward nod motioning for you and Ellie to move up the stairs to the outside world that you weren't sure you knew what it looked like anymore, it felt strange being with people that were gentle rather than lashing and brutal.

You can't remember the last time you walked for so long. Your legs are throbbing ,the arches of your feet ache and your back is sore. "Joel are we almost there, my feet hurt and I think l'm gonna be paralyzed after this" Ellie whines, it was about the third time this trip Ellie has asked the same question.

Joel would either ignore her or he'd give her a blank answer" 'about half an hour, Ellie just hang on".

It was starting to get dark, the sky changing from its bright blue to a hues of purple and pink as the sun set " you think there's anything out here" she continued to ask questions to keep her distracted from the pain in her body. Joel didn't answer her because he didn't have an answer and he didn't want to give Ellie any false hope.

" So Stas, where are you from?" she loops her fingers around her backpack straps. "Georgia" you give a short answer. " Were you born before or after the outbreak?" She pries " before, I was seventeen" "Do you remember what it was like?" Ellie was definitely a curious kid and a hell of a talker. " | remember a lot of things" you answer.

There's a chain link fence now in view " Jesus, finally!" Ellie cries out running to the fence " I think my legs are gonna fall off"

It looks normal beyond the fence like the outbreak never happened. The houses looked like there were still people living in them, the roads were clean and the grass was green. Like a bomb was set off outside of the fence leaving the inside untouched.

Joel makes it to the fence gate punching in a code and with a loud buzz the gate opens, Ellie runs to the house with bright white walls. " Ellie slow down," Joel calls out to her. leaving you and Joel behind. "She talks a lot" he mentions causing you to let out a little laugh "I noticed, but she's a kid so I get it" he nods letting you walk through the gate first and locking it behind him.

"we'll leave in the mornin', and there's plenty of things here that you can use as you wish, and they have hot water so your free to knock yourself out'' he gives you a soft smile before he continues into the house you follow suit the house was clean and felt like a home if the outside hadn't made you feel normal then the inside did, it was actually functioning. No boarded up windows or broken glass, it was a home that someone lived and loved in.

You always had the dream when you were younger to have the picture perfect life, a husband, kids, the house with the white picket fence but since the outbreak that seem like it's so far away but now you've lived with the fact that there won't be a husband, no picture perfect life and definitely no white picket fence. But you had the kids at one point but as we all know, the QZ are monsters.

Ellie walked upstairs with you upstairs. Pointing you towards where you'd sleep for the night and the bathroom.

" oh and there's hot water so take as long

as you need because it's heaven" she jokes " so i've been told"

That was exactly what you did, took a long hot shower washing all the dirt ,grime and blood from your body letting it fall to the tub and run down the drain, your hands run over your head, the first Time in forever that you've been able to actually run your fingers through the strands of your hair. Your eyes fell shut, the feeling of the water running down your body, you felt like you were living again. There's strawberry shampoo and a matching conditioner running it through your hair with the tips of your fingers. You felt human again, and that was Something you hadn't been treated like for months.

A sigh of relief escapes from your body reaching for the handle to turn the water off.

There's neatly folded white towels on the bathroom counter pulling it to wrap around yourself covering your body. You wipe your hand across the mirror clearing a section to be able to see yourself, you looked normal like the world didn't completely crumble. Is this what your life would be like if the outbreak hadn't happened, a nice home. But your brought back to reality when you look at the scars and marks across your body some lighter then others but they were still there

You moved from the bathroom to the bedroom, the bed took up a lot of space there's two stacks of clothes, you pulled on a shirt over your chest, it sat bigger on you causing it to slip off your shoulder exposing your bra strap and collar bone. They had set out two kinds of pants, one red pajama bottoms and the other are black mens jeans, pulling the pjs over the curve of your ass till they sat on your hips.

You use your towel to squeeze out as much water as you could tucking it behind your ear, you stay in the room for a few more minutes before you brave them down stairs.

Wrapping your arms around your torso, hugging yourself, taking slow steps down the stairs following the sounds of chatter towards the right of the house.

Finding both Joel and Ellie sitting at the dining room table. Their heads turn towards you when you make your appearance in the doorway. "Well look at you, a whole new person" she smiles, you can feel Joel's gaze on you, his eyes soft and concerned.

Silence filled the room before Ellie spoke again. " We saved you some fruit, some of them are bad" she adds, patting the seat next to her and across from Joel. She hands you a small container of different fruits, some apple slices and strawberries.

You take a seat crossing your leg under yourself, staring at the large map laid out on the table, pen markings everywhere some places scribbled out and some that have labels made by them showing all of the different zones, QZ, FEDRA, safe zones and places that you don't want to go mainly due to a high population of infected.

You dissociate from their conversation completely in your own head, these two are obviously not related especially by the way they treat each other which is a little bit harsh if they were family, Joel has also referred to her as cargo multiple times, maybe it’s a nickname but that would be weird. Your mind continues to wonder running through multiple things ranging from what life would be like if the outbreak didn’t happen, to when you are infected does just take control over your body but you're still there or are you just gone.

Evicted from your own body.

“I’m calling it, if I stay up any long I think my eyes will fall out” Ellie dramatically says before getting up from her chair. And running up the stairs her boot caught the edge causing her to trip up them. “ oh shit” she says, moving faster up the stairs. “you alright kiddo?”

“I’m alive!” You let out a small laugh before her door shuts.

“ I should probably tap out to” you say, earning a nod from Joel. “ Let me know if you need anything” he adds before you give him a nod standing up from the chair, Joel gives you a soft smile which you return.

You trek your way up the stairs back to the room you were given. Tucking your knees into your chest, every emotion getting harder to keep at bay the longer you sit in the dark there’s only a little bit of light coming from the window. But you were still scared, you were alone all over again.

You sat in bed, scared to fall asleep. Hours pass before you brave to leave the room making your way downstairs and to the front door trying to quietly open it Closing it behind you and sitting on the steps of the porch.

Listening to the sounds of nature and how quiet it was there’s slight wind going through the trees causing the leaves to rustle there’s sounds of crickets and just the world live. You zone out a few times before the door opens behind you causing you to snap out of it and turn to see who it was.

Joel stands behind you before sitting next to you with a quiet groan. Giving him a glance before focusing back to beyond the gates.

“ couldn’t sleep?” He asks, his eyes are glued to you.

“ I’m scared that if I fall asleep that I’ll just end up back there, in pain. I was down there for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever mentally realize that I’m not in that shit hole” you respond, your voice sounding choked up, trying to keep the floods at bay.

“ Well you're not, and I don't know why you were down there but clearly they had a reason, and you don't have to tell me right now but I do want you to tell me at some point before we get to Jackson” he urges.

Of course you knew that at some point you would have to tell them whether you wanted to or not but for now you’ll just sit in silence until the right time. Though it would never be the right time because you wish the ground would just swallow you whole so you never have to say a word about it again.

But you know that’s not going to happen and the truth would come out one day or another.

——————————————————————————

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[dee-writes-smut]

SANCTUARY NO MORE

FEATURING Joel Miller x first-person!reader

SUMMARY life in the aftermath is scary and unpredictable enough without your son catering to strangers while you are out scavenging. Too bad he's just about as thick-headed and giving as his father once was

CONTENT WARNINGS grief, major traumatic events, end of the world, harsh language, descriptions of violence, mentions of guns, and depictions of murder

AUTHORS NOTE oooooh shoot guys, we're meeting Joel!

SERIES MASTERLIST

"Get up," I growl, my voice laced with a steely resolve as I press the barrel of my gun harder against the intruder's head, the metal cool against my trembling fingertips.

"Fuck you!" The man spits, his defiance dripping with venom as a splash of blood lands on the floor, staining the pristine surface and splattering across the polished leather of my boot.

"Okay, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you," I murmur, my voice laced with grim determination as I squeeze the trigger, the deafening crack of gunfire echoing through the room. A spray of blood and brain matter erupts from the man's head, painting the walls in a grotesque tapestry of violence, the metallic tang of blood filling the air.

"God damn it! This shirt is new, you fucking asshole," I grumble through gritted teeth, my annoyance palpable as I glance down at the splattered mess adorning my black turtleneck and faded sage cargo pants. With a frustrated sigh, I swipe at the crimson stains with the sleeve of my shirt, my movements brisk and efficient as I straighten from my bent-over position.

With practiced ease, I retrieve my backpack from the floor, the weight of it familiar against my shoulders as I sling it over one arm. I shove my unused leather gloves into one of the side pockets, their soft leather offering a modicum of comfort amidst the chaos.

I take stock of my surroundings, my gaze sweeping over the carnage littering the room before settling on the arsenal of weapons at my disposal. With a sense of purpose, I gather my belongings, each movement deliberate and calculated. I strap the pistol I used to dispatch the intruder into my utility belt, the weight of it a reassuring presence against my hip. My rifle, slung across my back, rests snugly against my frame, its familiar weight a reminder of the responsibilities that weigh heavily upon me.

I retrieve my quiver from where it lies discarded on the floor, slinging it over one shoulder with practiced ease. My thin jacket is stuffed into the strap of my bag, its compact form a testament to the efficiency of my preparations. With a final adjustment of the straps, I hoist my backpack onto my shoulders, the weight of it settling comfortably against my back.

As I step out of the abandoned bar, a twinge of irritation gnaws at the edges of my consciousness. It's frustrating to think that I couldn't spare even a moment to indulge in the simple pleasure of a good, aged drink before resuming my arduous journey home.

I've been out scavenging and hunting for a good two weeks now, my mind consumed with the singular goal of securing provisions for my family. But as much as I relish the solitude of the wilderness, the call of home grows stronger with each passing day. I can't shake the nagging worry that Amir, my beloved son, may grow restless in my absence, his curiosity and adventurous spirit tempting him to venture out in search of me.

At fifty-four years old, I've weathered my fair share of hardships, but I refuse to let age define me. Despite the trials and tribulations of the apocalypse, I'm still rocking a hot bod with a wicked six-pack, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Of course, the apocalypse has a way of reshaping priorities and perspectives, forcing us to confront the harsh realities of survival in a world gone mad.

And then there's the matter of my late husband, taken from me by the senseless violence of our infected neighbor. It's a wound that still cuts deep, a gaping hole in the fabric of my existence that can never be fully mended. But in the grand scheme of things, who's keeping track of such trivialities? Certainly not me. In this new world, survival is paramount, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect those I hold dear, no matter the cost.

The walk back to the cabin is a solitary journey, each step a silent testament to the weight of my thoughts. The air hangs heavy with an oppressive stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or distant call of a bird. It's too quiet, unnervingly so, and the solitude amplifies the ache of loneliness gnawing at my heart.

But as I begin the descent down the massive hill that leads to home, a sense of calm begins to wash over me, soothing the tightness in my chest with each steady footfall. The towering trees loom overhead, their dense canopy casting dappled shadows across the forest floor. Moss clings to the roof of the cabin like a thick green blanket, testament to the passage of time and the relentless march of nature reclaiming its territory.

The windows of the cottage are haphazardly boarded up, a makeshift barrier against the dangers that lurk beyond. The grass along the hillside and surrounding the cabin has grown tall and unruly, swaying gently in the breeze as if whispering secrets to the wind. Despite the overgrowth, I press on, my determination unwavering as I navigate the familiar path home.

Finally, I reach the cabin, its weathered facade a welcome sight amidst the wilderness. With a sigh of relief, I grasp the handle of the old, stubborn door and tug it open, the wood groaning in protest as it gives way.

"Amir!" I call out, my voice echoing through the cabin as I hastily discard the burdens weighing down my back, my heart pounding in my chest. But the silence that greets me in response sends a chill down my spine, my senses on high alert as a sense of foreboding settles over me like a suffocating cloak.

Instinct takes over, my muscles coiling with tension as I reach for the pistol holstered at my hip, the weight of it a reassuring presence against my trembling fingertips. With practiced precision, I grip the weapon tight, my grip steady as I navigate the familiar confines of the cabin, every nerve on edge as I search for any sign of danger.

As I round a corner into the living room, my worst fears are realized in an instant. There, sitting in one of the leather chairs, is Amir, his innocent smile in stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that permeates the room. My heart lurches in my chest as I take in the scene before me—a teenage girl I've never seen before, and a man, older than me, brandishing a gun and leveling it at my son's head.

"Amir!" I gasp, the air catching in my throat as I raise my own weapon, the cold steel of it a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. Panic threatens to overwhelm me as I confront the threat to my only source of joy in this desolate world.

"What are you doing?! Who are these people?" My voice trembles with a mixture of fear and anger, every fiber of my being poised for action as I stare down the barrel of the gun aimed at the intruders.

"Mom, it's okay, you can put the gun down," Amir's calm voice washes over me like a balm, his reassuring presence a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around us. With arms outstretched in a gesture of peace, he approaches me slowly, his expression one of gentle understanding.

But I can't bring myself to lower my weapon, not when the safety of my son is at stake. "What do you mean? There are strangers in our house! Why on God's green fucking Earth would I ever put my gun down when this man is pointing his gun at your head!" My voice cracks with emotion, the sheer absurdity of the situation leaving me reeling in disbelief.

Amir's sigh cuts through the tension like a knife, his disappointment palpable as he exchanges a glance with the young girl seated nearby. "See," he says wearily, "I told you she wouldn’t like this."

The weight of his words lands like a punch to the gut, a painful reminder of the gulf that has grown between us in the wake of the apocalypse. My heart aches at the realization that my efforts to protect him are perceived as a burden, my role as his mother relegated to that of an overbearing authority figure.

"Ma'am," the girl speaks up confidently, her voice cutting through the tense silence like a knife. "My name is Ellie, and this here is Joel. Sorry for his attitude, he's not really good with people," she adds with a weary sigh, her frustration evident as she casts a sideways glance at her father.

"Ellie!" Joel's growl of disapproval fills the room, his discomfort palpable as he shifts uneasily under my gaze.

"What? It's true!" Ellie retorts, her tone defiant as she stands her ground, her defiance mirroring my own inner turmoil.

Amidst the chaos, I find myself teetering on the edge of a precipice, my grip on reality slipping as the weight of the situation bears down upon me. With a trembling hand, I flick the safety off of my gun, the metallic click echoing through the room like a warning bell.

"Can someone please explain what the fuck is going on right now?!" I burst out, my voice laced with frustration and fear as I level my weapon at the intruders, my arms steady despite the turmoil raging within me.

"Jesus Christ, mom!" Amir scolds, his voice laced with exasperation as he rushes to my side, his hands reaching out in a futile attempt to pry the gun from my grasp.

"Damn, A, your mom is hot!" Ellie's remark cuts through the tension like a knife, her words dripping with sarcasm as she fans herself theatrically. Beside her, Joel's glare intensifies, his expression darkening as he levels his gun in my direction, his stance defensive and hostile.

"Anyways," Ellie continues, her tone shifting to one of reluctant sincerity, "We accidentally stumbled upon your beautiful home while looking for some water. We're trying to figure out the fastest way to Kansas City, and Amir here said you guys used to live there and could give us a hand." She casts a pointed look in Amir's direction, a silent reminder of the role he played in their sudden intrusion.

"It took a lot of coercing on our part to get Joel on board," she adds with a wry smile, "but considering I've only been in a car, like, twice now, we could really use some help."

"So what? You want us to show you to Kansas? That’s it?" I question, my tone laced with skepticism as I eye the strangers warily.

"That is it," Ellie replies, her smile unwavering despite my obvious distrust.

"I call bullshit. How can I trust that’s all you want?" I demand, fixing Joel with a steely glare.

"Well, we have been staying at your house for like three days now, so I’d say that’s a pretty good show of trust," Joel retorts, his voice tinged with irritation as he meets my gaze head-on.

"Amir! You let them stay here that long?!" I gasp, turning to face my son, my disbelief evident in the sharpness of my tone.

"Sorry?" Amir shrugs, his nonchalant demeanor doing little to assuage my frustration. Despite his casual apology, the stubborn set of his jaw betrays his lack of remorse for his decision. "They're good people, Mom. Promise."

I let out a long breath, my annoyance palpable as I weigh my options. While I remain wary and untrusting of these strangers, the girl's plea for assistance resonates with me on some level. After all, there's no harm in leading them in the right direction to wherever they are wanting to go.

"Fine, but if you so much as try anything, I will rip your balls off and shove them so far down your throat they pop out your ass," I growl, fixing Joel with a withering glare as I make my threat abundantly clear. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife as Amir and Ellie stare at me in shock, their expressions a mix of disbelief and apprehension.

Joel, however, remains unfazed by my warning, his stoic demeanor a stark contrast to the volatile energy crackling between us. With a resigned sigh, he holsters his weapon, a silent acknowledgment of our fragile truce. In a show of mutual agreement, I lower my own gun, the weight of it a constant reminder of the precariousness of our situation.

"Go get your stuff, buck," I tell Amir, my voice strained with emotion as I turn towards the kitchen to regather my own belongings.

As I wrestle with the bewildering decision to escort strangers to a distant city, the weight of responsibility presses down on me like a leaden blanket. How did a twenty-year-old and a seemingly fourteen-year-old convince me to take such a risk? The answer eludes me, shrouded in a haze of uncertainty and doubt. But one thing is clear: I cannot allow my son, Amir, to venture out alone into the dangers of the unknown.

"Hey," Ellie's soft voice interrupts my tumultuous thoughts, her hand settling gently on my shoulder. Despite her attempt at reassurance, I can't help but tense at her touch, my instincts on high alert as I confront the reality of our precarious situation. "I know that this must be really hard for you, letting two people you don’t even know on a first-name basis into your home and your life, but I promise you that we have no intention of hurting either of you."

"I've heard that before," I respond darkly, my voice tinged with bitterness as I roughly gather the remaining ammo and arrows from the molded, sagging brown countertop. Shrugging off Ellie's hand, I turn away from her, my heart heavy with the weight of distrust and suspicion.

With a sense of resignation, I finish repacking my bag, the task completed with a roughness born of frustration and anger. As I sling my gear back onto my back, the weight of it a tangible reminder of the burdens I carry, I steel myself for the journey ahead. Despite my misgivings, I cannot ignore the primal instinct to protect my son at all costs, even if it means placing my trust in strangers whose intentions remain shrouded in uncertainty.

Outside, the world unfolds around me in a symphony of sights and sounds, a testament to the enduring beauty of nature amidst the chaos of our reality. I sink into the swinging chair that hangs from the overgrown porch, the gentle sway lulling me into a state of tranquility as I await the arrival of my unexpected companions.

Closing my eyes, I surrender to the rhythm of my surroundings, allowing myself to find solace in the melodic symphony that envelops me. A soft breeze brushes against my skin, carrying with it the sweet scent of wildflowers and pine. Above, the canopy of trees rustles softly, a chorus of birdsong filling the air with its delicate melody.

With each breath, I draw in the essence of the natural world, allowing it to ground me and center my thoughts. In the stillness of the moment, I find clarity, my mind wandering along the invisible pathways that lead to the edge of the city. Despite the uncertainty that lies ahead, I cling to this newfound sense of peace, allowing it to guide me through the tumultuous journey that awaits.

But amidst the serenity of nature's embrace, a pang of grief tugs at my heart, threatening to shatter the fragile calm that I have worked so hard to cultivate. The thought of returning to the city, to the memories of a life that once was, fills me with a profound sense of dread. It has been years since Ty, and the wounds of his loss still linger, raw and unhealed.

The day Ty was taken from me, a part of myself was torn away, ripped from my chest with a dirty, jagged blade that left me bleeding and broken. In the years since, I have searched desperately for that missing piece, but it eludes me still, leaving behind an emptiness that gnaws at my soul, a void that cannot be filled.

In the wake of his loss, I find myself adrift, untethered from the anchor that once grounded me in this tumultuous world. Without him by my side, I am left feeling lost and alone, a ship lost at sea without a guiding star to light my way.

The pain of his absence weighs heavy on my heart, a constant reminder of the gaping hole that remains where his love once resided. Despite my best efforts to move forward, I am haunted by memories of our time together, each one a bittersweet reminder of what I have lost.

In the depths of my despair, I feel helpless, powerless to fill the void that consumes me from within. I long to reclaim the sense of wholeness that was stolen from me that fateful day, but it remains just out of reach, a distant dream that taunts me with its elusive promise.

"I don’t like this either, you know," a rough, southern voice cuts through the stillness of the porch, jolting me out of my reverie.

"Good on you then," I snap, my irritation palpable as I bristle at the intrusion.

"You lost someone," he responds, his voice carrying the weight of his own pain.

"That’s none of your fucking business if I did or not," I retort, my defenses rising in response to his probing.

"No, it is," he insists, his tone firm and unwavering. "It is because everyone lost someone that day, and the days after. I sure as hell did."

His words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the shared burden of grief that we all carry. In his admission, I hear echoes of my own pain, a shared experience that binds us together in our collective suffering.

For a moment, I am rendered speechless, stunned by his willingness to lay bare his own vulnerability. In his honesty, I find a kindred spirit, someone who understands the depths of my pain in a way that few others can.

"Okay, and what if I did," I respond halfheartedly, my guarded facade beginning to crack under the weight of his words. Though I try to maintain my composure, my mind races with a thousand questions, each one vying for my attention.

"We all lost a piece of ourselves that day. Took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t just me, but everyone else too," he continues, his voice tinged with a sense of resignation.

"What does that have to do with me helping you?" I scoff, my skepticism warring with the curiosity that simmers beneath the surface.

"I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone," he shrugs, his demeanor shifting to one of nonchalance as he seemingly resigns himself to silence.

Just as I am about to respond, the sound of laughter fills the air as the kids come bursting through the front door, their exuberance a stark contrast to the somber conversation that preceded their arrival. Joel and I exchange a knowing glance, our silent agreement punctuated by the shared annoyance of our interrupted conversation.

"Let's go," I huff, my frustration evident as I turn on my heel and begin to make my way back towards the main road, eager to put distance between ourselves and the sanctuary we have called home.

[letaliabane]

Touch

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: MAJOR spoilers for last of us 2!!

genre: fluffyy, smuttish, quite angstyyyyyy

word count: 1.2K words

Connected to Lost Connection

(If you would like to request a prompt, please include the name of the list and the number of the prompts)

26. You’d be a great mom (Love Prompts)

57. Breaking The Kiss To Say Something, Staying So Close That You’re Murmuring Into Each Other’s Mouths (Kiss List #1)

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

I moaned softly as I fell against Joel’s chest. His breath batted against my shoulder, trembling as he wrapped his arms around my back, holding me close so every inch of our bodies were pressed against each other. 

We had escaped the duties of the day, Joel having snuck into the kitchens where I had been working and pulling me away quietly, both of chuckling as we rode away, deeper into the forest that surrounded the settlement. A small safe house was our little haven we’d escape to every now and then, to get away from the noise, the crowds, and sometimes the judgments placed upon Joel for his past or even myself. 

We’d leave it all behind, and all would be left was us two. 

I sighed softly as I felt Joel press a shaky kiss to my forehead, his fingertips dancing across my back gently. My lips dragged across his neck before pressing against his lazily, moaning softly as his tongue swiped at my bottom lip, his hips barely lifting to meet mine. 

I barely pulled away with a gasp as he grinned against my mouth, ‘Well you rode me well and truly sweetheart.’

Joel chuckled as I slapped him across the shoulder, hiding my face in his neck as he continued to press kisses across any skin he could reach, my shoulder,  my neck, behind my ear; which he knew was my ultimate weakness as I shook against him, feeling his smile against my skin. 

‘I’m so glad you pulled me away today,’ I hummed as he rubbed my back lovingly, ‘Couldn’t stand some of the women today, Rebecca was really pushing me on the whole baby situation.’ 

Joel lifted my face, his features stern. ‘Were they bothering you again?’

I shake my head, kissing him gently for his kindness. ‘I can handle them, though they do get on my nerves at times. I guess it’s just the worry that I won’t fall pregnant or if I do and I lose it again-’

‘Hey,’ Joel cuts across, holding my cheek so I wouldn’t look away, ‘We have all the time in the world, we don’t gotta listen to anyone else. And if we don’t fall pregnant, remember we still have each other.’

I sighed, eyes closing as I leant my cheek further into his touch, allowing him to press me into the sheets as he pressed kisses down my neck towards my chest.

‘I will admit ... I’m excited to see you grow,’ Joel whispers as he kisses my flat stomach, his nose grazing my skin, making me giggle at the scratchy sensation of his beard against my skin. 

I ran my hand through hair, glad momentarily at the thought of how I begged him not to cut his hair. He looked twice as handsome now, and it suited him so well. And it didn’t hurt to grab onto something. 

‘We all already know you’ll be an amazing father again, so thats nothing to worry about,’ I say chuckling, staring up at the ceiling, sighing when Joel caressed the skin of my stomach now and then. 

Joel leaned himself up on his arm, silent for a few moments as if he was deep in thought before he murmured softly, ‘I reckon you’d be an incredible mother.’ 

I couldn’t help but look up at him, more worriedly than anything else. 

‘You think so?’

‘I really do. I’ve seen the way you are with not only the younger kids but the older ones too. You know how to be on their level, and I’d reckon if we’d have any you’d know just how to raise them.’

I smile gently as I looked away from his piercing, loving gaze, only to stop when Joel grabbed my hand giving it a squeeze, ‘And if we don’t have any kids, I will love you, always. Not any less, never harm you. I will love you.’ 

‘Fuck you,’ I gasped softly, wiping away the tears that stained my cheeks suddenly. Joel chuckled, pulling me close as I curled up into his side, petting my hair lovingly. 

FOUR WEEKS LATER

I pushed open the door, ignoring the stares I received as I dragged myself across the room before finding myself standing over the covered body that lay at on a table on the other side of the room. 

I tugged the sheet down, looking away at the sight of the bloodied, bruised, almost unrecognisable face of my lover. Every time I took it in, it made me imagine the horror he went through before he closed his eyes. Made me wonder what he felt, what he thought of-

‘Y/N, you don’t need to do that,’ I heard one of the older women, almost chuckling beneath her breath, ‘Someone else will do it, preferably someone with a stronger stomach.’ 

I didn’t reply, gripping the edge of the table painfully. 

I had struggled to fit into the settlement when Joel, Ellie and I had first arrived from across the country from Boston, but finding my place was even harder. Though I worked hard every day to find a suitable role for myself, I had Joel which allowed us to find our own little corner which we called home. 

And soon after many conversations, I prioritised nurturing my relationship with the man I had known as my travel companion and the little girl who I watched become a woman of her own making and helped Maria wherever I could.  

Pulling the sheet further down to reveal the rest of Joel’s body, I squeezed the sponge that floated in the soapy water of the bucket I had carried in, pressing it to his chest, scrubbing his skin carefully. 

I treated his skin like that of a newborn, rubbing away the dirt and blood. Tommy had already taken care of his wounds, closing the ones on his back, neck, and the edge of his forehead, so that took away the stench of fresh blood. 

As I reached his hands, I began to scrub at his fingers, cleaning the edges of his fingernails, the center of his soft palm, and the edges of his wrist. And I couldn’t help but intertwine my fingertips with his, a whimper leaving my lips at the coldness that sparked against my palm, and the lack of response to my touch. 

Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, the tears fell as I pressed it against my stomach, against the growing new life that he had filled me with, and yet had left me behind with. 

I took extra precaution with his face, dabbing at his skin than pulling or rubbing, gently removing the blood and grime that covered the handsome face I had fallen in love with. With a sigh, I leaned down, pressing my lips for the last time, nuzzling his cheek. 

‘I love you Joel Miller, and I always will.’ 

It felt like an hour passed when I decided to pull away from him, kissing his forehead one last time as I grabbed the bloodied water and sponge before leaving the room, again ignoring the stares that seemed to follow me. 

Only once I had reached the porch of the house, I allowed the bucket to fall from my grip, the water splattering across the snow along with the sponge, knees buckling beneath me as I tripped at the steps. Too tired to move, I curled up against the stairs, shaking as I sobbed into the wooden planked floor.

A/N: Okay! This isn’t the epilogue (THAT IS COMING DON’T WORRY) but I thought I’d do a collection of stories before Joel died and some after he died. I was gonna do separate stories but I’m gonna make some connected to this specific story line/couple I’ve created after Lost Connection. Hope you’ll be patient with some ideas I have cooking!

Requests are open for Last of Us Requests! You can also request with prompts just remember the list(s) and number(s) you wanna include. 

Masterlist

[dilliebar]

Scraps: A Dillie Fic

Hey guys! I’m happy to announce that I’ve finally posted the first chapter of Scraps (aka “The Farm Fic”). This one will be multi-chapter, and I’m looking at 5-10k words per ch so hopefully that’ll be worth the wait. Anyway, here you are, hope you enjoy!

Months after Joel's death, and a couple months after the confrontation in Seattle, Ellie and Dina find themselves moving out of Jackson and to the farm: a place where they hope to start their new life and family. But even though their lives were spared, not all is well. Ellie still struggles with her inner-demons and the pressures of the ghosts that haunt her, and with how her mind wanders, she's not sure how long the peace will last.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25317292/chapters/61382233

Sunday, May 9th, 2038

The dark, dingey atmosphere and cold air biting at Ellie's nose told her exactly where she was. She'd lived it only once, but had seen it a million times before in her darkest memories and worst nightmares. But this was no dream; she was convinced by every small detail of the rustic mansion- every frosted pattern on iced glass, every crack in the layer of paint, and every anguished cry from the bottom of the staircase- that this was real. He was down there, in the basement. Joel was down there, and she had to save him.

She ran down the stairs as fast as her feet could carry her. Each step seemingly took years to pass, the fear and sheer panic coursing through her veins and making her skin hurt. After what felt like a painful forever she reached the basement door, throat dry and lungs gasping for air. She wrapped her fingers around the cold door handle and turned it with her very last ounce of energy, only to be denied by the lock. She tried again and again and again, each time making the panic set deeper and deeper into her bones.

"Ellie!"

Joel's strained voice called from the other side. Dammit, she was trying. She was trying like her life depended on it, but the door wouldn't budge. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as another tormented cry of her name filled the silence between her sobs.

Suddenly the door gave way after what felt like the thousandth turn, her heart dropping at the sight in front of her. The room was empty except for Joel's still, bloodied and beaten body lying motionless on the hardwood floor. The smell of iron filled her lungs that were previously desperate for air, only to find herself begging for them to empty again. She watched as his lips parted slowly to mutter their final words.

"Ellie!"

All she felt now was a pair of hands gripping her shoulders. All she saw was red. All that her rapid heartbeat pumped through her veins was adrenaline and agony and rage. The voice that called her name didn't register. She pushed away in desperation. She had to get to Joel. Maybe she could still save him.

"Get the fuck off me!"

But her captor wouldn't budge. With sheer distress she pulled their hands off of her shoulders and went to push them away, only to be quickly met with two soft, familiar hands cupping the sides of her face.

"Ellie," the voice said, softer and calmer. It was familiar, too, yet she couldn't quite place the sweet sound. She grabbed their wrists tightly in an attempt to pull them off of her as the red began to fade from her vision, but stopped as she processed the girl sitting in front of her.

She was met with two big, concerned, dark-brown eyes; the pair that she always associated with not hate nor violence, but both gentleness and a tender touch; the warm-toned skin that felt soft underneath her fingertips; the near-black hair that smelled of life and lavender. Dina. Her presence alone made Ellie’s heart rate slow.

Confused at the sudden change of scenery, she took a look around the room. The walls were a faded eggshell white, with one window directly facing the bed, allowing the moonlight to cast a pale glow on the scene. Cardboard boxes- most sealed and unopened- were labeled and organized in stacks on the wood floor; linen; Ellie; Dina; decor and some unmarked. She looked back into the shorter girl’s eyes.

“We’re home, El,” she whispered softly, “do you remember?”

Gentle thumbs brushed the skin of Ellie’s face as her heart and breathing slowed. She didn’t quite recognize the room. Not as her room in Jackson, anyway. She looked to the window, and to her surprise, didn’t find the suburban-like view of the town outside. Instead she saw a field of long golden grass, the tops of great pines, an old, rusted fence…

“The farm,” Dina confirmed, “we moved a couple weeks ago.”

Ellie’s memory came flooding back at her girlfriend’s words.

The couple had been mulling over living in town since they left seattle. They knew they’d want to stay near family, or more so Jesse’s parents considering the baby, but how could they live in Jackson after all that had happened? How could they walk past Joel or Jesse’s old houses without feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt? How could they rebuild their life there at all? They needed peace. They needed a home. They needed a new beginning.

Of course, Jesse’s parents were completely against the idea of moving away from Jackson. They had a right to be concerned, but after all, the farm was only about ten minutes or so outside of town, close enough that if there was ever an emergency they could get help as needed. Ellie had her own concerns, too, like how they would deliver the baby with only a blanket and her 7th grade health class military prep, but Dina assured her it would be fine, and Ellie believed her. As long as she was with Dina she knew everything would be alright. 

And life back in Jackson county so far had, in fact, been alright. But what wouldn’t stop picking away at Ellier were these constant nightmares. Each one made her feel as if she were living it again. As if the blood splatters across frosted glass weren’t illustrated by the depths of her mind. As if she wouldn’t wake up again, that she would die in that basement and never see Dina or Tommy or Maria again. This was the fourth one she’d had since they arrived in Jackson. Ellie thought the move would help, that the absence of reminders of Joel would help ease her anxiety, but alas, she had woken Dina up in the middle of the night for the fourth time.

Ellie let go of Dina's small wrists and leaned into the tender touch of her girlfriend; she was the only thing in the world that seemed soft anymore. The only thing that seemed solid. Her body sighed as Dina lifted her thumb to wipe away a tear that Ellie didn't even realize had welled.

"Did you have another one?"

Ellie hated when Dina had to see her this way. She hated being vulnerable. She hated how she kept interrupting Dina's well-deserved and needed rest. The mental toll her own mind was taking on her was overwhelming, but she wouldn't allow it to affect Dina if it was the last thing she did. After all the unnecessary hell she went through just to be there for Ellie, she was convinced that she shouldn't have to deal with this, too.

She nodded, "I'm okay."

Dina looked unconvinced.

"Ellie, your hands are shaking."

She shook her head and clenched her fists into the sheets.

"I said I'm fine."

Ellie kept her gaze down but she could feel her girlfriend’s eyes on her, examining. She prayed that Dina would just let it go, that she would go back to sleep and forget that this ever happened.

The smaller girl's hand found its way under Ellie's chin, tilting her head up to look into those beautiful emerald eyes.

"I'm here for you, El."

Dina closed her eyes and leaned in to place a tender kiss on auburn hair before moving back to the right side of the bed and tucking herself back under the covers.

Ellie hesitated for a moment, watching the girl settle back into the clean white sheets. She studied how they fit around the curves of her body, and how each strand of dark hair contrasted against the pillows. Sometimes, or more like all the time, Ellie wondered how someone like herself could end up with such a beautiful soul. She'd killed how many men? Taken how many lives? She had almost stopped at nothing to bring down one measly person, and despite the fact that the bitch still made her blood boil, the innocent part of Ellie couldn't find herself wanting anything more than this girl lying next to her. Not even vengeance. 

But the hardened part of herself wouldn't leave her alone. It didn't just want blood, it wanted to be the one to spill it.

Ellie took a deep breath and turned over on her side, reaching an arm around the smaller girl's waist and pulling her in to fit their bodies together. She brought her pointer finger up to her girlfriend's arm, gently tracing patterns on soft skin until she slowly felt the bad thoughts melt away one by one. She did her best not to bother the sleeping girl, and continued on to draw her finger on her neck, and then down to her shoulder, until she saw it.

The scar.

It was about two inches long, and ran along the back of Dina’s right shoulder. It had healed for the most part, but the line was still red and angry.

“Almost done.”

Ellie noticed Dina wince as the needle pierced her skin again. She was trying her best to stitch up the arrow wound as steady as possible, but with one broken arm, it was proving to be a difficult task whenever the smaller girl would flinch and she wasn’t able to hold her still. 

“How’s Tommy doing?”

Ellie looked behind her to where Tommy was resting on his backpack and one of the old leather sofas.

“Should be alright, the bullet didn’t go too deep.”

As much as it brought back bad memories, with everyone’s current condition there was no way they’d be able to leave the theater and make it back to Jackson alive. It was already going to be difficult enough with Dina being pregnant and all, but on top of that, she had also lost a lot of blood and probably had at least a minor concussion. Tommy’s right eye was shot to fuck, and he’d barely been able to walk ever since the confrontation. If that weren’t bad enough, Ellie had this broken arm to show for it, too. She wondered how they would even get back at all with the little medical supplies they had.

 Ellie leaned forward and bit off the excess string.

“All done.”

Dina sighed and relaxed her shoulders.

“Thanks babe.”

The pair had tried to pack light, so extra clothes weren’t really a priority when they left Jackson, but they were able to scrounge up some ones without blood on them from around the place. Most of the clothes- or costumes- were fancy dresses or black-tie attire, but the last guy who set up camp there left quite a bit of things behind, too. Ellie grabbed a black tee for herself and a blue hoodie for Dina, which she helped to slip over her arms amidst pained groans.

The memory of the night before still haunted her. It used to be Joel’s face that lurked in her mind, but now it was Dina’s. The arrow through her shoulder. The sound as her head banged against the floor. The knife held to her throat by a muscular arm. It only made her more hungry for blood, but she also knew that she had a responsibility to Dina, Tommy, and Jesse that she had to fulfill. 

“Ellie?”

She sighed and packed the rest of the medical supplies away as the tender voice broke through her tortured thoughts.

“Hm?”

Ellie’s muscles relaxed as Dina stood and wrapped her arms around the taller girl’s waist from behind, leaning in and resting her head in the crook of her neck. She was grateful; god, she was so grateful. But something still didn’t sit right for Ellie. They had come all this way, gone through so much hurt and for what? For the father of Dina’s unborn child to die? For Tommy to be permanently injured? Sure, they had killed some of the people associated with Joel’s death, but not the one to give the final blow. It was like starving, finally finding a meal but settling for a side. Unsatisfying and disappointing.

“I can’t go back there.”

The shaky words tugged at Ellie’s chest. They had so many great memories in Jackson. It was where they first met. Where Ellie first played a video game. Where she first watched a movie. Where she got her first tattoo. Where they first laughed and hung out together, and where they’d first kissed. They’d had a semi-normal life; one like Joel had described. One where people roamed the streets, no one was struggling to survive, and there was a sense of both community and safety. Jackson was their home, but it had also been Jesse’s, and Joel’s, and they both knew that they wouldn’t be able to escape the guilt as they saw their ghosts mingling at the bar or dancing and laughing under string lights at the winter dance. It was too much; at least for now.

Ellie turned around and pulled Dina into a loving embrace. 

“I know.”

Crisp air whispered through the towering firs, grass rustling underneath Ellie’s feet as she whisked herself into the woods. She left while Dina was still sleeping, hoping they wouldn’t have to talk about last night like she knew her girlfriend desperately wanted to. She felt bad, knowing that all Dina wanted to do was help, but they were both grieving in different ways, and right now Ellie didn’t know if she could bring herself to even think about the subject more than her mind forced her to. So she left a note, so hopefully Dina wouldn’t worry, and assured her that she’d be back for dinner, hopefully with something other than canned tomato soup to eat.

Ellie held the notch of the arrow up to the string, making sure to keep it ready in case any critters decided to show themselves. Fall was beginning to fade into winter; the air was starting to turn chilly and frost made an appearance on the grass in the early morning before melting away under the semi-warm, overcast sun. Even as the cold air bit at her nose, Ellie found herself at peace deep in the tall trees. Maybe it was the quietness of it all; how calm everything seemed to be, with nothing but the chirping of the warblers and the sway of branches filling the autumn air; maybe the openness, how any and all structure was overtaken by the brush and roots of the forest; but most of all it was the familiarity. Though her and Joel had spent so many days and nights meandering their way in and out of cities and small towns, most of their travel was spent in the wilderness, which was something she'd always admired and appreciated ever since she left the QZ. 

She solemnly dug through the memories of setting up camp after a long day of hiking, where she would gather the wood for a campfire while Joel scouted the area and set up traps. She remembered vividly each tiny detail and sidetrack he fit into his stories of his life back in Boston, and sometimes, but rarely, of his travels and life before the outbreak. She remembered back then how she had so many questions. It pained her to think that over the past few years she had distanced herself too much to ask more. Now his answers and stories were all she wanted, but instead she was left with nothing but a flat grave and her own imagination.

A rustling from the brush beside her caught her ear and pulled her from her thoughts.

Ellie crouched down in the grass to make herself less visible and nocked the arrow, keeping a keen eye in the direction of the noise. She watched for any and all movement, a tactic that had grown to be second nature to her over the years. She waited patiently until she saw it: a small rabbit peeking out from above the grass. She raised the bow and pulled back on the string, holding her breath to take aim. For a split second before she released the arrow the little creature turned its head in her direction, its black eyes meeting hers. She felt a tinge of mercy in her chest before hands began to shake and she released the arrow, missing the animal and sending it running by mere inches. She cursed under her breath before standing to retrieve her arrow and continued into the quiet depths of the woods.

“We got everything?”

Dina helped Ellie slip her backpack over her shoulders before turning to give Tommy a small nod in response. It had been a couple weeks since the confrontation with Abby. Everyone was still in a world of hurt, but the tension between the scars and the WLF was growing day by day, and supplies were becoming more and more scarce. It was only a matter of time before they were blocked off from leaving Seattle completely, and without any means of travel other than their own two feet, making it back to Jackson in one piece would be much, much harder; they had to move, now.

“Should be it, unless we want to bring sparky from the roof along with us.”

Despite the tension in the air Ellie released a small puff of laughter, earning both of them a glare from Tommy’s one good eye. Ellie knew he didn’t want to leave Seattle. She didn’t want to, either. But he couldn’t fight, she couldn’t fight, and Dina’s condition was getting worse day by day. They had already lost one of them, it would be irrational to keep running after this girl and lose another, right?

The trio made their way out of the front door, making sure to keep an eye on the nearby buildings and cover. There was no telling what, or who, was lurking in the shadows anymore. Any fight at this point was a death sentence.

“Main gate’s this way,” Tommy noted, opening the map, “though we best sneak out the east jus’ like last week.”

“Still no guards?” Ellie asked.

“Not as far as I heard over that radio.”

Ellie shrugged and nodded. The main gate would be impossible to get through with all the trouble they had to go through just to get into the QZ. She began to follow Tommy before she felt a tug on her good arm.

“El’s?”

She turned around to meet a pair of sad brown eyes, brimming with tears sparkling like polished glass. As much as they wanted to leave, they also wanted to stay. Not just for the vengeance of Joel, but for Jesse now, too. Ellie wanted it. Dina wanted it. Tommy wanted it. But it wasn’t about them now. It was about their child; someone who would carry on the legacy of that brave friend and father; it was about their family. They were a family now, no matter what, and anything outside of that would have to wait.

“What’s up?”

She watched as Dina blinked tears away from her eyes.

“Can we stop for him?”

Ellie felt her heart ache at the unevenness of her voice.

“Of course.”

They had wanted to bring Jesse’s body back to Jackson, back to his parents, back to where their child would grow up. But frankly without a horse there was no way they’d be able to, not to mention the trip would take maybe a month or two. Having to see his body like that wouldn’t be good for any of them, or for him out of respect. The least they could do was give him a proper funeral somewhere nice, somewhere he could rest, where when they buried him, he would still be the man that everyone remembered so dearly.

They buried him along the same route Ellie and Dina had taken to Seattle, off the side of the main road by the overgrown bus stop where the sunlight broke through the trees and would be easy to find if and when they came back to see him again. They marked the fresh mound by lining it with rocks, and neatly folded up his bloodied jacket, slipping it into one of the clothing bags from the theater and setting it underneath one of the bigger stones at the head of his grave. It wasn’t fancy, but Dina, having a decently vast knowledge of her religion, was able to send Jesse off the best way she knew how.

They stopped at his grave again as they passed through the area to head back to Jackson, at Dina’s request.

Ellie watched as Dina leaned down and took some of the freshly-turned dirt in her hand, squeezing it gently before letting it fall through her fingers. Her breath remained shaken as she took the rock off of the garment bag, unzipping it and bringing Jesse’s coat to her chest to feel his presence one last time. Ellie listened closely as her girlfriend began to whisper a small prayer under her breath in a language she couldn’t understand.

At first when Dina had described her religion in the synagogue, Ellie found herself intrigued. She didn’t just want to know how something as simple as a string of words to someone unknowable could help, but she desperately wanted it to. She had even tried it a couple of times; she tried it on their first night in Seattle, when she found out Dina was pregnant and she said poisonous things and she prayed for everything to be okay; she tried it after she killed Nora, when she was begging for forgiveness to anyone who would hear her; she tried it after she killed Mel, a pregnant woman, which was something she could never forget or forgive herself for but maybe a higher, more perfect being could. At first it did make her feel better to know, or at least make herself think, that there was something greater than all of this bullshit out there. But then, after seeing Dina’s bloodied face and body with a knife held up to her neck, she came to the conclusion that any “perfect being” would never allow that bullshit to happen.

But she wouldn’t tell Dina that. Not when it was the only thing she clinged to for hope.

When Ellie got home it was around mid-afternoon, and she could see smoke coming from the chimney. Despite how dark her mind was, she couldn't help but feel her heart warm at the thought of having a place to come home to, a person to come home to. It was something she'd always wanted but also thought she'd never have the chance to get, especially after they left Boston. The more she thought about it as she approached the front door the more guilty she felt.

What if I was that person to him?

A chill ran down her spine and all that warmth that previously filled her heart began to fuel her guilt. For the last year that Joel had been in her life, she had barely acknowledged that he even existed. She had been his home. For the longest time, he had been hers, as much as her angry self hated to admit it back then. All of the stupid dad jokes, his fatherly, protective demeanor, their unbreakable bond; all of that was taken away within minutes, and not a year later, here she was, attempting to start over and forget that it ever happened or that he ever existed.

I don't deserve her.

When Ellie walked in she immediately noticed her girlfriend on the couch, beautiful as ever with her little baby bump and frazzled head of hair.

"Hey," she greeted with a sweet smile.

Ellie set her backpack down by the door and leaned down to place a fragile kiss atop Dina's head.

"Sorry, I was gone a bit longer than I planned."

"You're alright, I was just taking a break from dishes," Dina paused, attempting to read her girlfriend with concerned eyes as the mood shifted, "everything alright?"

Ellie knew what she was referring to. It was the reason she'd gone out in the first place. She didn't want to talk about it then and she didn't want to talk about it now.

She shrugged it off as she untied the couple squirrels she caught from her bag.

"Everything's fine, just needed something for dinner."

Even with her half-hearted response Ellie could still feel the smaller girl's eyes on her. They were pressing, piercing, and probing every emotion she had left in her. But like she said, everything was fine. She just needed more time.

"You sure?"

Ellie shook her head to herself, her walls going up as she tried to avoid the conversation yet again.

"I'm fine."

Dina shifted on the couch.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, and that's fine, but-"

"Dina."

Her tone was calm but firm; enough to tell her girlfriend to take a step back but tender enough to let her know it wasn't personal. Frankly Ellie hated telling Dina to back off, because she knew she was lucky to have any sort of support at all, but this was the one thing she felt too guilty and pained about to ever bring up to anyone when she needed care the most.

Ellie stood up, squirrels in hand. She made her way to the kitchen before turning back to the girl on the couch.

"I'm gonna go work outside,"

Dina looked up, meeting her girlfriend's eyes just briefly before nodding in response.

Work life on the farm was pretty dull, but relaxing for the couple. Ellie had settled on doing the majority of the manual labor or most work outside, really, like making sure the sheep were well-fed and that the crops were growing as they should. Dina would always do her best to help, although with how the pregnancy had been affecting her body, most days she'd end up doing some of the household chores and preparing anything that Ellie happened to bring home when she went out hunting. The rest of the day they'd spend together, whether they were cuddled up under the stars or dancing in the living room, just as they'd always wanted to be, now and forever.

Working the garden didn’t take too long since they only really grew enough to sustain themselves, and even then the plants were just little saplings considering they’d only been there for a little over a week; for now they mainly relied on non-perishables and the little fresh vegetables they’d brought from Jackson, and the food that Ellie brought home of course. It didn’t take long for her to round up the couple of lambs Maria was willing to spare, either, and by the time she was done the sun was just setting.

And so Ellie finished up, brushed off her jeans and wiped the mud off her shoes before making her way back inside the kitchen where her beautiful, exceedingly patient girlfriend had dishes in the sink and the squirrels she’d caught on the cutting board. She felt a tinge of pain in her heart as she thought of how she’d snapped earlier. Ellie didn’t want to push her away. She knew Dina didn’t want her to push her away. They needed each other more than anything, but Ellie could barely think of Joel without breaking down, let alone talk about him.

And yet, despite everything, Dina stayed by her side.

Ellie felt her body warm as those brown irises met her own, bright and sparkling as ever. There was something different about them; something different than before that day in Seattle. It was the absence of the carefree, fun, glowing light behind her eyes. The one that put everyone at ease, yet so on-edge at the same time. Instead of being sharp and direct and sarcastic, it was soft, and concerned, and forgiving. 

She walked up behind the smaller girl and wrapped those strong arms around her waist, pulling her in and planting a kiss on that soft neck of hers.

“I love you,” Ellie said, just above a whisper.

Dina closed her eyes and leaned back into her girlfriend’s touch, allowing herself to revel in the rare softness of the hardened girl. Before Abby, Ellie had always been shy but always so warm. And in all fairness, she still was, but the grief and trauma over the past couple months had overcome her like a thick ice. No matter how much Dina tried to dig at her, she wasn’t revealing any of the water below, and it was both frustrating and disheartening to see her not just ice out the people of Jackson, but herself as well. They had always been close, ever since the day Ellie arrived in Jackson. But now Dina felt like they were a million miles apart, and she had no idea what to do about it.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she said calmly, “but don’t leave without telling me like that.”

She felt the taller girl release a sigh against her shoulder, contemplating for a moment before speaking.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Dina turned around in Ellie’s arms and moved her hands up to cup her girlfriend’s face with a tender touch. She studied those deep-green emerald eyes, searching for any sign of the emotional openness Dina had been looking for since they’d left Seattle. Something was there. It was an understanding; a glimmer of hope in that mossy ring; something that told her that the innocence and goodness Ellie once had was still in there somewhere, hiding underneath, but still very much there.

She leaned up on her tip-toes to plant a brief kiss on her girlfriend’s soft lips before pulling back.

“Tommy and Maria mentioned they wanted to come over for dinner,” Dina switched the topic, “kind of like a house-warming thing.”

Ellie groaned.

“Doesn’t the fireplace warm it enough?”

The shorter girl playfully rolled her eyes and pushed her girlfriend away from her. “Go wash up, you look like Todd out there.”

Ellie scoffed as she turned to head out of the kitchen.

“Alright, but you didn’t just kiss Todd so I’d like to think I’ve got something on him.”

“You wish.”

It took them nearly twice as long to get back to Jackson as it took them to get to Seattle. Ellie was fairly mobile and her arm was healing nicely, but breaks had to be much more frequent for the sake of Tommy and Dina. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d stayed up with the pregnant girl, comforting her in any way she could and helping her to keep water and food down. Tommy’s gunshot wound appeared to be healing just fine, but his leg still wasn’t managing to function as well as it used to. As much as she hated to think it, it was very well possible that the damage was permanent, but all that mattered was getting back to Jackson in one piece.

It was the fourth week, second afternoon of their trip when they finally saw the lights of Jackson appear over the grassy Wyoming hills.

Almost in-sync, the trio stopped side-by-side, looking down on the settlement which used to be their safe-haven; their serenity; their home. For Ellie, it was a curse in disguise. A seemingly perfect community where all of the troubles of the outside world would melt away suddenly became a barren wasteland that led her family- her father- to his demise. For Dina, it was the place that had raised her since the age of twelve. She had seen the horrors of the outside world, but now she had seen the pure darkness behind it. Now all she saw were four walls filled with distractions; things to keep everyone’s minds off the fact that there were people out there suffering while they wasted away in front of their televisions and danced along to music of the old days. All Tommy saw were his broken hopes and dreams. Jackson was supposed to be a second-chance; a place for people to redeem themselves and finally live a rare, peaceful life. Now he realized that the only place for redemption was outside the wall, where vengeance could be taken and revenge could be had.

Ellie felt a soft hand grip her calloused one, and she turned her head to see a teary-eyed Dina.

“I’m not ready.”

The taller girl felt her heart ache at the three words. She squeezed the small hand reassuringly.

“Me neither.”

The three of them made their way down the hill, past the old gas station, through the brush and through the golden grass. They took note of the fresh horse tracks, signaling the first friendly presence they’d seen in months. Ellie continued to squeeze Dina’s hand as they made their way past the last line of trees, and took a deep breath as the main gate came into view.

“Open the gates! They’re back!”

As they approached the wall Ellie kept her eyes down, not out of sadness but out of shame. How could she look Jesse’s parents in the eyes and tell them he was gone? All because she decided to leave; all because they hadn’t been more careful; all because Ellie couldn’t help but make one last swing at the woman who killed her father.

She had no clue, but she would have to do it sooner or later, for Dina’s sake.

The gates opened, and Dina was the first to be bombarded by warm embraces from Jesse’s mother and father. Tears rolled down red cheeks and sobs were heard among them, but all Ellie heard was a muffled ringing in her ears. She could feel their sad, grieving eyes on the side of her face, begging for an answer that told them their son wasn’t gone. Something that could give them hope. But she couldn’t. All she could muster was a pained “I’m sorry” as his mother’s cries grew louder.

The next to appear by the gate was Maria, but unlike Jesse’s parents, stayed there, waiting for Tommy to approach her. Ellie looked to him, seeing the pain ridden on his face as he went to take his first limping step forward, but she stopped him.

“Tommy,”

Ellie shook her head as he looked up to her. She thought for a moment, pondering what she would even say to him. They had left for one purpose and one purpose only: to seek vengeance, and not only had they not accomplished that, but they had even more of a reason to seek revenge now more than ever. 

Slowly she brought her eyes up to meet him.

“I’ll make her pay.”

“So how’s it been out here?” Maria asked, “Farm life been treating you two nice?”

Dina smiled as she set the portions down on the table in front of them, taking her seat down next to Ellie.

She poked at her food as Dina and Maria went back and forth about the ins-and-outs of their life so far on the farm. In all honesty there wasn’t really much to talk about. Since Jackson sent out patrols every so often there wasn’t really any issue with infected around the area, and even if there was a straggler or two they weren’t two difficult to get rid of silently.

And then they went on about Jackson, how everyone was doing, how Jesse’s parents were. And of course the conversation shifted to the inevitable topic of Dina’s pregnancy. Since they had gotten back to Jackson she had been doing much better, especially now that they had access to medicine and heat and decent amounts of food. But the further along she got the more Ellie realized that there was one thing she wouldn’t be able to do.

Ellie couldn’t help but notice how quiet Tommy was as he sat across from her, barely even sneezing at the plate of food in front of him as the tension in the air grew more and more thick. She knew he was antsy to get back out there; to go find Abby yet again, and she was, too. But she had a family now. She had a responsibility to Dina and to Jesse. She couldn’t just up-and-leave. But no matter what, she would never place the blame for that on Dina. And she’d make sure Tommy didn’t put that pressure on her, either. Certainly not in their home.

“We’ve been talking about names,” Ellie finally interjected, “any suggestions?”

Maria pondered for a moment.

“Well I’ve got a few, but just in case, I think I might save those for myself.”

Ellie waited and gave Tommy one last chance to not be a dick before deciding to include him in the conversation whether he wanted to or not.

“Tommy? Any suggestions?”

She watched as he visibly scoffed before crossing his arms over his chest and looking up to meet Ellie’s eyes. There was a tangible frustration in his eyes; like he knew that this quest for revenge was coming to an end. She held his stare, silently daring him to make a snide comment towards Dina.

“So you’re keepin’ it, huh?”

The blood boiled in Ellie’s veins as she pushed her plate aside and leaned forward on her elbows.

“Yes. Is that a problem for you?”

Dina leaned forward to place a calming hand on Ellie’s shoulder, lightly attempting to pull her back and de-escalate the situation. But as far as Ellie was concerned, no one was going to come into their house and talk to the mother of her child like that. 

Tommy stood from his chair, loudly scooting it back and practically throwing his fork down on the table.

“You want some names? I got plenty for ya.”

Ellie stood up to meet his eyes along with Maria, who already had two hands on him and was gently pushing him towards the door. He turned to her and brushed her hands away, then heading out the front door.

“I’m already goin’.”

At first the three of them stood in shock, appalled by the suggestion that he’d just made. This was their child. It was Jesse’s child at that. Even if Jesse were alive, it was completely Dina’s choice as to what she wanted to do, and she wanted to keep it. And if that’s what she wanted to do, Ellie would be there for her every step of the way, and would support the hell out of that kid as if they were her own, because they were a family now.

Before she knew it, Ellie felt her feet carrying her outside while Dina called out for her to stop, but she couldn’t feel or hear anything over the rage and blood coursing through her veins. 

“You fucking asshole.”

Tommy turned from the knot in his horse’s lead to respond.

“Right, I’m the asshole,” he shook his head, “I’m the asshole for keepin’ my goddamn word? Is that it?”

Ellie shoved her hands against his chest, full-force.

“Don’t you fucking dare-”

“I’m not the one out here tryna forget the man who raised me ever walked this goddamn earth.”

The mention of Joel shook her, and she took a step back.

“But what’d I expect?” he scoffed and deepened his tone, “He raised one selfish child.”

And then she saw his face; the last time she’d ever seen him.

Without thinking Ellie cocked her fist, fully intending to deliver a well-deserved punch to the good side of his head before she felt two soft hands pulling back on her shoulders. She kept her eyes locked on the asshole in front of her even as her girlfriend came into view and held both sides of her face, trying her best to distract her.

“Ellie? Ellie.”

She watched as Maria stepped in front of Tommy, telling him quietly to back off. When he was out of view she brought her eyes back to Dina, who was looking at her with a deep sense of concern and worry. Her heart rate began to slow, but she was nowhere near calm. 

Ellie scoffed and pushed back from her girlfriend’s grip, stomping her way back inside and up the stairs until she got to their room, slamming the door behind her and sitting herself down on the white bedsheets. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, face in her hands as tears began to brim at the corners of her eyes.

As much as Tommy pissed her off, there was an aching in Ellie’s chest that told her he was right; that she hadn’t kept her word; that everything she did was for nothing, and to stop now would be an insult to Joel and his memory; that she didn’t deserve this seemingly perfect life with Dina and their soon-to-be child. No matter how many times Dina told her it wasn’t her fault, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt.

She still saw their faces. She saw Joel’s face, battered and bloodied, as the lids of his eyes parted one last time for their eyes to meet before that bitch brought the club down. She saw Tommy’s face, unconscious and helpless as the scene played out in front of their eyes. She saw Jesse’s, one of the best friends she’d ever had, lifelessly splayed across the theater floor with a bullet wound through his cheek. And she saw Dina's face, the love of her life, seconds from death, who if she lost she would lose her mind and her life along with it.  

Ellie looked up through glossy eyes as she heard a soft creak from the bedroom door. 

“El’s?”

Ellie wiped the tears from her eyes and attempted to slow her breathing as they continued to spill. She didn’t want Dina to see her like this; so helplessly lost. But the smaller girl sat next to her anyway, rubbing a comforting hand on her back.

“He didn’t mean it,” she whispered, “it’s just a lot right now.”

Ellie shook her head and hid her face in her hands.

“He’s right.”

Dina’s heart ached as her girlfriend’s voice cracked. It pained her to see her like this, but she would always be there for her in any way that she could. Slowly Dina brought her hands to the sides of Ellie’s tear-struck face and gently turned it to look at her.

“Hey,” she said, looking deep and genuine into those emerald eyes, “You’re allowed to be happy.”

That’s when the dam broke, and every bad thought and emotion that Ellie had been withholding came flooding through the gates in the form of anguished sobs. She let Dina pull her into her chest, allowing herself the only emotional release she’d had in months.

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

She told herself she didn’t deserve this, that she didn’t deserve her girlfriend’s warmth, but she was crying so hard she didn’t think she would be able to stop even if she really wanted to. Everything that built up to this, every slit throat, every harsh word, every cruel thought didn’t release her anger or grief. It was this. The few times, this being the first, that she allowed herself to be vulnerable to the one that she loved. At the end of the day, maybe she didn’t deserve it, but Dina chose to stand by her anyway, and after everything that happened, Ellie decided that she would never aim to take advantage of that ever again.

They stayed like that for a while, Dina rocking Ellie back and forth as she let her emotions flow, as the tears soaked into the smaller girl’s shirt and her girlfriend’s body grew less and less tense until the tears stopped. Ellie gave in as Dina pulled the warm covers over them, and they held each other as they drifted off to sleep.

But before Ellie let the exhaustion overtake her, she let her mind wander. Usually it took her to the darkest of places, but now she could see something a bit brighter; a future in which things weren’t so grim after all. 

[unicyclehippo]

Dina would be like “ I love you please kiss me” and Ellies the type of person to be like “AS FRIENDS OR..?” I swear lmao

jdkfjskhfhaksjs check this out it’s not exactly the same but ellie is equally stupid

//

‘hey george, thanks for getting me,’ ellie says quietly, following her friend into the garden behind greenhouse six. it’s an over grown tangle, which is only permitted because it’s where the squash monstrosity lives and grows and because it’s basically smack bang in the centre of the settlement, meaning if raiders ever did get to this point, they’re all already screwed. that’s ellie’s reasoning, anyway. ‘where is she?’

ellie scans the garden. beyond the shift and away of bodies dancing to the music that crackles from the radio, she picks out flashes of colour and detail as she searches intently for dina—the plastic lanterns, the fragments of broken CDs repurposed into glittering decorations, the overturned buckets and crates scattered around the room, the paint splattered over the wall in reds too close to blood for ellie’s comfort.

‘i don’t see—‘ ellie breaks off, lips flattening with displeasure. she skirts the room, not wanting to disturb the others and not wanting to be slowed down, and when she makes it to dina’s side, she takes frank larkin’s hand from where it has strayed to dina’s ass and squeezes until he yelps. when he tries to tug away, she helps him take his hand off dina, guides her friend behind her instead.

dina doesn’t seem to notice, or mind.

‘evenin’, frank.’

‘ellie,’ he greets her just as tersely. ‘mind letting go of my hand there?’

‘depends on what you’re planning to do with it, i reckon,’ she tells him, but after a moment she lets his hand drop.

rubbing at it, frank glares at her and takes a step back. ‘we were just dancin’,’

‘yeah and you know if she weren’t drunk as shit she wouldn’t give you the time of day. keep walking, larkin.’

‘keep being a bitch, williams,’ he mutters as he slinks away and dina—dina who has since draped herself across ellie’s back and started swaying to the radio’s safety reminder—perks up.

‘shut the fuck up, frank! shut up! don’t you call her a bitch!’

‘alright slugger,’ ellie sighs and she turns, hoists dina off her feet and just about carries her out of the garden party. a full minute of walking, dina refusing to help since ellie is doing such a good job of it, brings them to a bench and ellie sets her down on it, has to keep unwinding dina’s arms from around her neck. after the third time, ellie kneels and holds both of dina’s hands in hers.

‘you are,’ dina says, looking down at her with unfocused eyes, ‘like, you’re so pretty.’

‘thank you. how much did you drink?’

‘oh, like,’ dina’s head lolls to the side in an uncoordinated tilt as she considers the question. ‘a lot.’

‘okay then.’

‘are you mad at me?’ dina asks, trying to twist one hand free of ellie’s gentle hold. when it feels like she might actually hurt herself, ellie lets her go and she can’t find it in herself to be surprised that dina’s hand immediately settles on her shoulder, winding her fingers into ellie’s hair.

‘i’m not mad at you. do you wanna try walking again?’ dina nods and with ellie’s help she stands. ‘i’ll take you to your room,’ ellie tells her, which was a mistake because dina scowls and sits again, tucks her ankle around the leg of the bench so ellie can’t make her stand again. ‘oh my god,’ ellie breathes. rubbing at her forehead, she crouches again. doesn’t even bother trying to avoid dina’s reaching hands. ‘dina, what’s wrong?’

‘you’re mad at me,’

‘i’m not.’

‘if you weren’t mad, you’d,’ dina blinks, looking a bit unsure. ‘you’d take me home.’

‘i am going to take you home.’

‘ellie, ellie,’ dina brushes clammy fingers over her cheek, misses and nearly jabs ellie in the eye but then her palm settles and she pats once, strokes the tiniest bit with her fingers. ‘ellie,’ she whispers again, ‘to your home.’

‘do you want to come to my room?’ ellie offers, too tired to even bother deciphering what dina might be thinking.

‘i thought you’d never ask,’ dina teases, slipping forward on the chair. ‘also, i’m gonna puke.’

//

after ellie helps her to the garden bed, and studiously avoids listening to dina retch as she scrapes dina’s hair off her face and rubs soothing circles over her back, ellie more or less carries dina to her house and knocks until joel opens the door.

‘whoa, what happened to her?’

‘definitely not alcohol?’

a smile flickers at the corner of joel’s lips and then is gone. ‘got it. come on, i’ll get her some water, you get her on the couch.’

‘thanks, joel, you’re the best.’

he grunts.

ellie readjusts her grip on dina, grimaces when dina buries her face in ellie’s neck. ‘please don’t puke on me.’ dina mumbles something unintelligible and not in english and ellie rubs her back. ‘almost time to sleep, stay awake just a bit more, okay? will you do that for me?’

dina nods, maybe, and ellie crosses the room, eases her down onto the couch. she stops her when dina immediately makes to lie down.

‘joel’s coming with some water, stay awake a little longer.’

‘m’kay,’ dina slurs. ‘you’re taking care of me,’ she says with a little wonder, ‘that’s so nice of you.’

‘you’d do the same for me.’ ellie smiles down at her, smoothes a kink of hair back from her face. it’s kind of endearing to see dina like this, now that she’s passed the puking phase. she takes the cup joel hands her, nods when he pats her shoulder and leaves her to it. ‘here, dina. drink this.’

‘i—think i’ve had enough,’

‘oh now you realise,’ ellie mutters quietly, just to herself. more loudly, she says, ‘it’s water.’ dina turns her head away and ellie is tired enough to want to not push it but she’d rather dina not wake up with a hangover to top all hangovers so she persists, cupping dina’s cheek. ‘please, for me?’

dina’s eyes go suspiciously wet. ‘for you,’ she agrees, and chugs the water down, throws the cup to the ground. the plastic clatters a few times before rolling under the armchair across the room.

‘good call on the plastic, joel,’ ellie murmurs, again to herself. ‘good job, thank you.’

‘you,’ dina pauses, presses a hand to her chest and swallows down a burp. ellie hopes it was a burp. ‘you’re welcome. i love you.’

ellie’s heart lurches at the words, the least slurred of everything dina has said since she collected her, and she smiles to her like she never dares to when dina isn’t drunk, with all the tenderness and esteem and care she normally keeps carefully in check. dina’s eyes widen. ‘i love you too,’ ellie tells her. ‘go to sleep, okay?’

//

dina wakes ellie in the morning, smelling strongly of ellie’s shampoo and of half a tube of toothpaste.

‘hey,’ ellie grunts. ‘morning.’

Mmorning, hero.’

there’s an almighty crick in her neck and ellie groans, straightens from her seat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. she rubs at her neck, sighs with relief when it pops and she rolls out her shoulders.

‘i’m getting too old for that.’

‘eighteen,’ dina grins. ‘positively ancient.’

ellie returns the grin, heaves herself up onto the couch and stretches her arms over her head, yawns. her hands flop down into her lap and she blinks her eyes open again, bleary and a little blurry, and catches the tail end of a slightly flustered look dina throws to the ceiling.

‘you good?’

‘hmm?’

‘no hangover?’

‘big one,’ dina tells her with a grimace. ‘but the water helped—and joel made me the greasiest breakfast ever, so i’m well on my way to recovery.’

ellie frowns. ‘where’s my breakfast?’

‘you slept through it.’

‘what the fuck?’ ellie breathes, offended. ‘see if i come get you again if that’s how you treat me.’

dina tilts her head. it’s unfair how pretty the smile she directs at ellie is; soft and sweet and slow, brimming with affection until it overflows and a little dimple pops in her right cheek. ‘you would,’ she says knowingly.

ellie breathes out a shaky breath, wipes her palms on the coarse fabric of her jeans. ‘yeah, well, i’m dumb like that. never learn,’ she laughs quietly. her laugh dies when dina switches from her seat on the coffee table to the couch right next to her.

‘i love it about you,’ dina tells her, eyes bright. ‘you know that, don’t you?’

‘i—well,’ ellie blinks. pulls herself sharply under control, ignoring her sweating palms and thundering heart. ‘someone’s gotta look after you.’

‘my hero,’ dina says again, quietly, and she leans in until their shoulders brush together. her eyes dip for a second before returning to ellie’s eyes and ellie thinks distantly that she must be very close for her to be able to see the flecks of lighter brown through dina’s iris’s. ‘how about a kiss for your trouble?’ she whispers, and when ellie’s head wobbles a little—a nod, hopefully—dina leans in until her breath puffs warm over the corner of ellie’s lips.

ellie’s eyes flutter closed. she curls her hands into tight fists in her lap to keep from reaching for dina. skin tingling, when dina’s lips actually press to the corner of her mouth, it feels like an electric shock right through her and ellie’s breath catches with an embarrassingly loud hitch.

dina’s nose skates over her cheek before she pulls back.

‘thank you, ellie.’

‘I -,’ ellie licks her lips, shivers when her tongue brushes against where dina had kissed her. ‘i wasn’t about to let anything happen to you,’ she says, avoiding dina’s gaze and instead watching her hands, picking at a loose stitch on her jeans. ‘you’re my best friend, i don’t know what i’d do if you got hurt.’

[caveartfair]

The Hamptons as Artist Paradise, beyond the Glitz and Glam

Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner in Pollock’s studio, East Hampton, 1949. Photo by Lawrence Larkin. Courtesy of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, East Hampton, NY.

Jackson Pollock was struggling in New York City. It was 1945, and Peggy Guggenheim had been pressuring the rising painter to make new work for her Art of This Century Gallery. Temporary relief for the Abstract Expressionist came in the form of a summer rental opportunity: His friend, artist Reuben Kadish, was staying in a home on the East End of Long Island, and invited Pollock and painter Lee Krasner (his partner) to join his family. The summer proved so relaxing that when Pollock returned to the city, he decided to move out to Springs (a hamlet in East Hampton), marry Krasner, and settle down.

The relocation was a temporary godsend. Pollock got sober (for a few years) and began his most famous series. He laid canvases on the wood floor of his Hamptons studio, splattering them in a revolutionary new way. In 1949, LIFE magazinefamously asked in an exultant feature: “Is [Pollock] the greatest living painter in the United States?” Pollock’s success withered shortly after, as he descended back into alcoholism and died from a drink-fueled car wreck about a mile from his Hamptons home in 1956. Yet for a few years, the area had offered the perfect respite—just a train ride from the New York art world, but far enough to diminish distraction.

Interior view of Jackson Pollock’s studio in Springs, East Hampton, New York, April 1, 1991. Photo by Susan Wood/Getty Images.

Artists had been living and working in the Hamptons, and its surrounding Suffolk County, well before Pollock was born. Abraham Tuthill, a native of the North Fork town of Oyster Ponds (now called Orient), made portraits of family members and locals from around 1800 to 1850. (North Fork isn’t technically located in the Hamptons, but is just north of them, and still considered a part of the “East End.”) Tuthill’s subjects appear well-dressed and regal—a far cry from the surfers and bohemians whom the area eventually served. Other local artists of the time, including Hubbard Latham Fordham and Orlando Hand Bears, also supported themselves with commissions and commercial painting jobs.

In 1874, Winslow Homer journeyed east from New York City and documented the culture on Long Island beaches, far from the stuffy rooms in Tuthill’s work. Homer’s pictures, however, still reveal a strain of sartorial conservatism: In East Hampton Beach, Long Island (1874), ladies lounge on the sand in long white dresses and sweaters, huddling under umbrellas in an apparent attempt to ward off even the smallest suntan.

Winslow Homer, East Hampton Beach, Long Island, 1874.

At the Seaside, ca. 1892. William Merritt Chase The Metropolitan Museum of Art

The Big Bayberry Bush (The Bayberry Bush), ca. 1895. William Merritt Chase Parrish Art Museum

Four years later, says Helen Harrison, co-author of the 2002 book Hamptons Bohemia: Two Centuries of Artists and Writers on the Beach, the Hamptons got its first real artist “incursion.” The Long Island Rail Road financed a trip for 11 members of the Tile Club—an artist society whose broader membership included Homer, as well as William Merritt Chase, Edwin Austin Abbey, and William C. Baird—and the sponsored cohort ventured across the Hamptons, rendering their experiences for the railroad’s promotional materials. It was a kind of artist junket, helping to establish the area as a charming destination.

It’s funny to think that the Hamptons once needed publicity, but according to Harrison, train service didn’t even extend to Montauk(the eastern tip of Long Island)until 1895, and “it was still terra incognita for tourism.” Throughout the following Jazz Age decades, the area gradually became a socialite hotspot. Sara and Gerald Murphy, a wealthy couple who inspired Ernest Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast (1964) and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Tender is the Night (1934), met at an East Hampton party. Gerald was a painter himself.

Jackson Pollock’s barn studio, where Pollock and Krasner painted many of their most important works. Courtesy of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, East Hampton, NY.

If the area remained slightly under the radar for years, the Surrealists had no trouble finding it: Peggy Guggenheim led them right out there. Just before Pollock arrived in the Hamptons, Max Ernst, André Breton, Enrico Donati, and the rest of their predominantly European coterie found relief from the war-torn continent in the sea breezes of Amagansett and the East End. According to Harrison, Fernand Léger’s mistress (and an artist in her own right), Lucia Christofanetti, was one of the earliest artistic folk to buy property and decamp to the Hamptons year-round.

Guggenheim herself offers a link between the Surrealists and Abstract Expressionists, and she impacted both groups’ real estate choices and vacation spots. Indeed, Pollock and Krasner bought their home with a loan from the gallerist. At the time, art critic Harold Rosenberg was their only friend to own property in Springs. That soon changed: “If you have a house in the Hamptons, you have house guests,” says Harrison. Willem and Elaine de Kooning came to visit Krasner and Pollock in 1948, and in the early 1960s, they got their own place there. Fellow painters Robert Motherwell and Helen Frankenthaler also spent significant time in the region, as did their contemporary, Jane Freilicher.

Portrait of artist Jane Freilicher in her studio in Water Mill, Long Island, New York, August 1992. Photo by Susan Wood/Getty Images.

Soon, there were enough summering New York bohemians in the Hamptons (and a few full-timers) to form a sports roster. In 1954, the annual Artists & Writers softball game began. Franz Kline teamed up with Pollock, Willem de Kooning, and Joan Mitchell, while Rosenberg accepted Elaine de Kooning and at least one actor, Eli Wallach, onto his side. By the 1960s, film director Elia Kazan and journalist George Plimpton had joined, too—glitz was finally infiltrating the landscape. (The game still rages on today as a fundraising event; Christie Brinkley, Bianca Jagger, and Paul Simon have all participated.)

Yet despite rising real estate prices and more famous visitors, the Hamptons continued to attract artists throughout the 20th century; the area remained more naturally beautiful and less incessantly distracting than the city. “It was certainly a recommendation that this was a great place to make art,” says writer and curator Phyllis Tuchman.

This summer, Tuchman is organizing an exhibition for the East Hampton art institution Guild Hall, which will feature Ellsworth Kelly’s work from his 1960s visits to the East End. The artist made drawings of plants and crabs, photographs of barns, and shaped canvases related to barn features: Clearly, the bucolic landscape influenced his practice.

Ellsworth Kelly in East Hampton, Summer 1960. Courtesy of Matthew Marks Gallery.

Still, the region had become so high-profile that the era’s most ardent celebrity seeker, Andy Warhol, decided he needed his own place there. In 1971, Warhol and his collaborator Paul Morrissey bought a massive, five-cottage estate in Montauk. Keith Haring and Julian Schnabel visited, as did Jacqueline Kennedy and John Lennon.

In the mid-1970s, artist Keith Sonnier began visiting the Hamptons. He was from southern Louisiana near the Rockefeller Wildlife Refuge and had gone to Rutgers University, in New Jersey, for his MFA. “It re-introduced me to a rural setting and especially nature,” he says of the Hamptons. Sonnier made his first real bodies of work there, uniting his technology-based practice with ideas about the natural world. Last year, he finally sold his New York apartment; now, he’s a permanent Hamptons resident, living in a Bridgehampton home he’s owned for 30 years.  

Despite the influx of artists and wealth in the Hamptons by the late 1970s, galleries hadn’t set up shop. Finally, in 1981, New York dealers Holly Solomon, Leo Castelli, and Marian Goodman took a chance on the area. Their collaboration, the Castelli-Goodman-Solomon Gallery (“C-G-S”), presented art by major Pop art figures such as Warhol and James Rosenquist. “The C-G-S is the first major attempt to test the Hamptons market for big-name contemporary art,” the New York Timesdeclared in 1982, predicting an art boom in the area.

East Hampton XVII, 1968. Willem de Kooning Sotheby's: Contemporary Art Day Auction

Willem and Elaine de Kooning, East Hampton, New York, 1983. Mariana Cook Lee Marks Fine Art

It didn’t last. “As the gallery attendant told me, people window-shopped there and then they went back to the city and bought art. It wasn’t worthwhile,” says Harrison. “It was just a summer showcase, really.” The gallery shuttered after a few years.

Yet at least one contemporary gallerist thinks the Hamptons are a perfect spot for mid-sized outfits. As Joel Mesler, who runs Rental Gallery in East Hampton (and used to run UNTITLED, among other Lower East Side ventures), says, “My soul was bleeding and my business was bleeding in the city.” He claims that last summer, he did more business in three months than he had the entire last year in New York. In the new location, he has far more breathing room and way less overhead.

Another mid-sized gallery, Halsey McKay, figured this out back in 2011, when it opened its exhibition space in East Hampton. This summer, the gallery will exhibit work by talent ranging from the technology-obsessed Trevor Paglen to the inventive young installation artist Cynthia Talmadge. Halsey McKay’s occasional collaborations with Manhattan galleries (Metro Pictures, Susan Inglett) convey a sense of camaraderie and city-wide reach that’s integral to its Hamptons-centered project.  

Robert Motherwell at the balcony of his home in East Hamptons, New York, 1965. Photo by Robert R. McElroy/Getty Images.

If there’s a dearth of top-tier commercial galleries, the area has long offered stellar art institutions. This summer, the Herzog & de Meuron-designed Parrish Art Museum in Southampton and the Dia-owned Dan Flavin Art Institute in Bridgehampton are both showing Sonnier’s work.

Terrie Sultan, director of the Parrish, began visiting the area when her brother, artist Donald Sultan, bought a house in Sag Harbor in the mid-1980s. She’s been at the museum (which hosts a Sonnier retrospective this summer) since 2008, and asserts that more artists join the community each year. “It’s a complicated situation out here,” she says. “[People understand] the Hamptons as a place with giant McMansions and only rich people that come out during Memorial Day and Labor Day.”

That’s just a small part of the story, according to Sultan: Now, there’s a critical mass of artists living in or near the Hamptons, both well-known (Cindy Sherman, Eric Fischl) and emerging. “Community begets community,” she offers. Sonnier remarks less on the price than on the changing pace of life in the Hamptons: “More people, more cars, more activity,” he explains.

Lee Krasner and Jackson Pollock in their garden, 1949. Photo by Wilfrid Zogbaum. Courtesy of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, East Hampton, NY.

Lee Krasner, Jackson Pollock, and their dog, Gyp, on their Springs property, ca. 1946. Photo by Ronald Stein. Courtesy of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, East Hampton, NY.

Willem de Kooning in East Hampton, New York, 1953. Photo by Tony Vaccaro/Getty Images.

Jackson Pollock painting at his home, East Hampton, 1953 , . Tony Vaccaro Monroe Gallery of Photography

Real estate blogs, of course, offer a narrative that greatly diverges from what artists and curators—many of whom invested decades ago, when prices were more reasonable—will tell you. The Real Deal recently reported that the area’s most expensive rental is in Southhampton, costing a total of $2.25 million for a Memorial through Labor Day stay. If that’s not necessarily representative of the entire area, it certainly conveys a market inaccessible to many younger creative people.

Even today, Pollock’s legacy looms. Artist Hiroyuki Hamada moved to the Hamptons from New Jersey about 10 years ago (his wife’s a local). “You can wake up in the morning, walk out to the yard, hear the birds chirping instead of the cars going by,” he offers. He’ll meet people who knew the de Koonings and Pollock, and is well aware that “Pollock’s place is seven minutes away.” The ultimate story of American artistic passion, creation, and destruction still serves as both an inspirational and cautionary tale for today’s painters, sculptors, and photographers of the Hamptons: Make your work, drink in moderation, and don’t speed.

Tuchman, the curator and writer, herself expounds on the area’s appeal. “It’s so damn beautiful out there,” she says. “Some of the sunsets, the big sky, almost makes me want to be an artist.”

from Artsy News

[wh0re4elliewilliams]

vampire!ellie oh my god, oh my god, vampire girlfriends!!