#AND THE WAY JOEL SLOWLY WARMED UP TO ELLIE’S DUMB LITTLE JOKES | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelmillerthirstqz · 4 years

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From this prompt: Joel meets y/n and he makes it his MISSION to fuck her. Throw in a daddy kink if you’re brave

(I did, with ten thousand character-intensive caveats. Porn with obligatory plot, is there a tag for that? Anyway have some suspiciously assertive Joel)

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Joel moves throughout the rooms of his house, picking up one occupation after the next, bored around one in the afternoon and faced with the reality that he neither remembers nor knows what to do with actual free time, safety, and space of his own. Tommy and Maria had brought some kind approximations of traditional housewarming, but much of his home was furnished by the previous resident and he sat there overwhelmed by spatial possibility. For all his griping about Ellie’s perpetual stream-of-consciousness chattering, the silence roared in his ears like he’d been dragged downstream.

Do people just go drink now? Just talk to each someone to pass the time? he thinks to himself, frustrated. By the time he could legally go to a bar, he’d been twenty-one and Sarah had been three, her mom long gone. He hadn’t spent time alone since the outbreak—always Tommy or Tess and others in between nearby. Acute problems to solve, no time for chronic reflection.

Tommy brought a lone box of possessions from his apartment with a case of cheap beer the night Sarah’s mom left, hanging around more tangibly than any other family had and often taking Sarah to school once Sarah was old enough. Tommy joked that it was more like Joel having two kids to deal with; Joel ribbed him for perpetually flirting with the very clearly married moms of his niece’s classmates.

Joel gulps a breath, self-flagellating with the idea that he hadn’t been able to protect Sarah when Tommy and Maria so clearly deserved to have their own child, forgetting as ever that his brother executed the soldier that shot Sarah before he could get to Joel—without a blink.

Wonderful. That’s what you do alone with your thoughts for two seconds. Jesus, Joel, he grumbles inwardly.

He’d been dragged to so many damn things since settling in Jackson and didn’t know what to do when it was his choice, so he looks outside. If Ellie’s light is on, he’ll go awkwardly try to make conversation, see if she’s okay. If she’ll be caught in a forgiving mood; if not, if he’s really pushing it.

Joel’s boots thud softly on the flagstone they’d carefully laid together, a path for her to get up to the house without soaking her sneakers through. Tonight, though, she’s gone or playing dead, so he sighs and shrugs a coat on, headed for the Tipsy Bison.

————

Joel spent a nontrivial amount of his time lately fending off interested parties in Jackson.

It was just cuffing season, he dismissed—encroaching fall making people a little weird. Since he’d begun to settle in, slowly accustoming himself to having Ellie out of his sight often and a normal couch in a house without shattered windows, he’d slowly accepted more public interactions. He’d grudgingly shoulder into town meetings, quiet until Tommy or someone else would put a question to him like he had a fucking clue.

Joel went on patrol, helping some of the greener residents learn to keep themselves safe. Unfortunately, it meant more people caught sight of him. Joel was used to prowling through quarantine zones swollen with cowering masses plainly terrified of him, which left him minimally prepared for reactions he thought he’d stopped evoking long ago.

The people whose breath hitch when they first notice him, the longing stares when he’d finally break and smile or laugh—they’d gotten embarrassing enough for him to avoid certain places.

Whenever Joel seems like he’s about to not comply with her wishes, Maria frequently threatens to tell the women who ask her in lewd tones if Tommy has a brother the truth—he does, and how about I introduce you?

The truth was he didn’t feel capable of starting anything with someone who’d ask where he’d been. Joel didn’t want to remember, even if he’d finally pinned the picture of himself with Sarah at a soccer game up next to the blooming collection of pictures in his living room with Ellie, Polaroids in Jackson blooming over nearby wall space every few weeks. People who wanted honesty to go with their peaceful existence reminded him too much of Tommy’s near-fatal optimism, and he felt like it would be too dishonest to start anything with anyone who still lost sleep over distasteful things done to survive. Delightful first-date baggage, in his estimation.

At the Tipsy Bison, he edges in by the drinking patrol nearest the door, welcomed gruffly and responding the same. It was nice to be recognized without raw fear or calculation as he entered, and Joel warms enough to drop his coat over the back of his chair, his rust-colored flannel’s buttons parting over the shirt beneath it as he moves, listening to Eugene tell some inflated war story with an almost-cold beer.

“Alright, fuck this. Knuckle up, asshole, I’m not doing this on patrol tomorrow,” Joel’s ears perk up at the sound of your chair clattering backwards as you stand. Joel recognizes you from the newer batch of arrivals, clearly deemed capable enough to join an early patrol just days after your arrival.

“Jesus, settle the fuck down,” one of the younger patrolmen grouses, standing up. Alex. Oh, the dumb kid.

“Nope. Now or never,” you insist.

“Listen, I’m not hitting you,” he sounds unapologetic but tries to portray himself as the reasonable party. He’s wiry, and Joel’s seen him fend for himself, but his posture doesn’t belie cool confidence.

“You clearly have some doubts, so let’s get into it,” you urge, agitated beyond belief. He’d been needling you about perceived skill, something about not growing up having to field dress animals, and you’d fucking had it. He was going to make a point on patrol and get someone hurt, and you were not carrying bodies back into Jackson because of some ego or misplaced crush.

He taps your shoulder mockingly with a closed fist, a gentle little motion, trying to smile playfully.

You hook him across the jaw, staggering him before taking a knee to his stomach as he tries to right himself.

“More, or you’re finished?” you ask.

Joel fully sits up in his chair. He hasn’t seen anything like this in Jackson. Glancing over both shoulders for his brother, Maria, and finding a clear coast he watches the outcome with interest, sipping his beer with an upturned mouth.

You’re cute, or appealing, or some reflexive word Joel hadn’t used in years, pushing hair out of your eyes as you regain your center.

Alex tries to sweep your legs out, successfully swiping one and getting a knee to the diaphragm for it as you land.

“Okay, fuck, I’m done,” he grunts and you rise easily, offering him a hand.

“Good,” you mumble, letting go the second he’s righted. You look around a little chastened by all the eyes on you, deciding to forego another round.

“I’m going to bed before we do this again,” you nod at Alex, and the rest of the patrol group you recognize in turn.

Joel eyes you as you depart, beer polished off and goodbyes waved, coat gripped in his fist to be flung on once outside. He knows your name, had seen you near the stables and conversing with the patrols. Hearing you speak, despite the context, maybe because of it, let him confirm something he’d been suspecting when he caught glimpses of you before. Never having had the right circumstances or raw spare time to devote all his energy to taking someone to bed, he steels himself to confirm it.

He trots after you, tugging his jacket back on and finding his way to the four-story hotel the town had spent arduous time clearing, stripping of spores, and making hospitable enough for people new to Jackson. Joel ended up leading a lot of the effort himself, vaguely proud to be doing something other than dismantling things, stretching old skills. Your little corner balcony faces off of one side, a nice view of the town unfolding as people begin to switch lights on for a sooner-than-yesterday sundown. You’re appreciative of a strange little luxury—not sure when the last time you stood with your back to a door without anticipating some infected would burst through.

You lean your elbows on the railing, a flask of whisky tipping in your fingers as you watch Jackson light up, a lone figure’s long strides coming into view down the broad street. The night is cool against your skin, but the little shiver the breeze causes feels affirming.

You’d always loved the fall, and Jackson’s soft sounds of life feel unreal enough that you could never sit here just sobering up before bed. It would leave you too wired, buzzing with the anxiety of certain impermanence. Reconciling this liminal zone with the gnashing horror just beyond it wasn’t something you’d take on without help. If Jackson was only a passing reprieve, you had to make yourself calm enough to enjoy it.

Joel halts below where you’re standing, hands on his hips pulling his jacket open as he looks up at you.

You’re instantly sheepish—you’d guessed in whatever patrol hierarchy there was, he was rather important. And you’d just visibly beaten someone down.

“Alex okay?” you call.

“He’ll be peachy. Not here for that,” Joel retorts, low drawl pleasant.

“Well,” you shrug, gesturing to the two mismatched chairs on the balcony with your flask. “Allow me to be a gracious host.”

He smiles and looks down for a moment. Even a couple of stories above him, you can see his height, start to assess his proportions because you’re too tipsy to be a human fucking being about your first interactions in a good place. You quickly add up a sum: his legs are long, shoulders broad, hair long enough to tug on. His frame suggests complete capability and you have a dire need to test it.

Aw, fuck.

“Y’know, I’ve got real glasses for drinking that,” Joel insinuates before he can tell himself to shut the fuck up, or to stop harassing newcomers, or any other sensible thought.

“Fair enough,” you call, closing your flask and holding a finger up to signal that he should wait.

When you arrive downstairs, boots poorly laced and denim jacket barely enough for the chill, Joel’s leaning on the veranda of the whole structure. You suppose its fair to gawk in appreciation so you do, assuring yourself you could have chosen not to.

“Look, I’m not going to ask what this is, and you won’t ask why I’m saying yes, okay?” you say softly when you’re a couple of feet from him.

Joel raises his eyebrows, feeling untethered. Some corner of him expected to humiliate himself to death so he could go home and fall asleep barely after dark, anything to shut himself up until he was occupied again. His heart speeds a little at your reply, hand on the back of his neck as he pushes back onto both feet.

“I’m close,” Joel offers, hand down towards the street, fists quickly in his own pockets. You pull your bottom lip inward, looking at his profile, wanting to hear it again, lower, helpless.

You pass the walk in tense but not unpleasant silence, glancing at each other until you reach his porch and he edges in to unlock his door.

Turning on lights as you toe off your boots and follow him inside, you watch how he moves, past the need for any type of persuasion. He returns from the kitchen with two matching, unchipped short glasses and a cylindrical glass of amber liquid.

“Trade?” Joel asks setting the bottle down and closing an open window. Your mouth quirks.

“That’s a nice custom. It a Jackson thing?” you ask, tipping your flask into his glass as he returns and pours from the bottle for you.

He laughs, sharp hazel eyes jumping up to you and back down, hand running over his beard.

“Not sure. What else would you do?”

You drop onto one of the two couches, arranged in the way that says people actually spend time here together. Joel gets onto his knees to build a fire, definitely a necessity, though kind of needlessly sweet for the occasion.

“This?” you tease, gesturing between the two of you. Joel joins you on the same couch, heat radiating into the space around you, well before the spark in the fireplace could catch enough to reach you.

You take stock of each other in comfortable silence, and a slow grin moves from one side of your face to the other. You finish your drink with a tinge of shyness, setting it down as he does the same.

You have no warning before his mouth is on yours, hands on either side of your face. It’s achingly good to be kissed with complete attention, luxury of time changing the entire tenor of kissing another person. You’re grounded to who’s holding you, mouth accepting him as Joel leads, guiding your jaw where he wants it with the flat of his palm. Joel moves slowly, plenty of time for you to reciprocate his motions though you begin to shift closer, scant sense of rhythm keeping you from straddling his hips.

The taste of him and your anticipatory haze keeps you fixed on the kiss, his hands sliding lower and beginning to move you towards his lap.

You try not to break the kiss with a smile, but it happens anyway and he looks up curiously. You sit back on your heels and tear through the buttons of your jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch and stroking fingernails through his beard before beginning the kiss again. Joel tugs you closer by the hip, urging you into his lap. He scans your face intensely, pulling you fully against him and letting his hands run the expanse of your back.

You can feel how rough his hands are through your shirt, so your fingers fly to his to work the buttons of his flannel.

“Christ,” you roll your eyes, exposing a second shirt underneath. He chuckles warmly in his chest, your foreheads bowed together a moment.

“C’mon,” Joel mutters, broad hands under each of your thighs as he rises with you wrapped around him. A segment somewhere in your brain shimmers, clicking with the novel experience, a knockout strike in the lane of neurons igniting to remember their roles.

“Where’s c’mon?” you ask incoherently between kisses, moving your mouth to his neck so he can answer. You think regretfully that it’s probably substantially warmer down here, fire catching nicely.

“Upstair—” Joel cuts off, your teeth nipping his pulse point.

You feel his heart jump against your mouth and your chest at once. You kiss him slowly as he takes you upstairs, stopping halfway up. He pushes you against the banister and deepens the kiss, hard length made clear. Shifting you closer to his waist once you resume, Joel’s hands creep a little higher, fingertips edging up as they dig in.

As you reach his bedroom, you have one hand hooked in the bottom seam of his shirt, ready to pull it off as he tries to set you down. Joel grunts when you tangle his broad shoulders in it, getting free and discarding it agilely. He bears down on you under dark lashes, chest rising and falling noticeably. The chill upstairs dissolves quickly as you twine together, hands running over his chest. It’s impressively broad and defined, thickening line of hair leading into his jeans.

You strip out of your two shirt layers with a casual roll of your upper body. Joel’s rapt eyes dragging over every rib leave you feeling exposed until his hands cover your breasts, mouth on your neck. You try to tug the rest of him towards the bed by the belt loops, but get frustrated and try to unclasp his belt instead.

Joel stoops to claw quickly at his boots, both thrown one handed before coming to rest against the wall. He hasn’t taken his eyes from you as you rise to slip your jeans down, one hand already curled back around your waist. He spreads his other hand across your abdomen, callused fingertips making you shudder appreciatively. Shoving you back, Joel gets to his knees with one of your legs hooked over his shoulder, grasped in his palm, kissing down your thigh. His free hand still moves over the rest of you.

Your mind is blankly focused on the rasp of his beard inside your legs. If you were honest, head wasn’t a frequent priority after the outbreak, sex usually a time-sensitive stress fix—for everyone. Add to that the average skill of the college peers you’d fucked before and, well, you’d only ever mildly enjoyed it.

Joel sucks your clit into his mouth, hard, and you arc off the bed. He moves without an ounce of uncertainty, shifting and roughly positioning you for the best angle as he goes. Being pursued like this, by a person who squarely checks boxes you didn’t know were empty left you wet enough to take him the moment you’d been out of your pants. His tongue pushes inside of you, followed quickly by one finger and then another, static but wonderful. You writhe on the bed at the feeling, low hum of a chuckle skittering across your sensitive skin.

One hand in the sheets, your other makes it into his hair. You grind against him without being able to help it, riding the stretch of his fingers as his tongue laves forceful circles around your clit.

“Fuck,” you try to grit out, embarrassed by the disassembled breathiness of your voice. It’s more a sigh as he curls his fingers within you, hazel flicking up to watch your reaction. You paw at his shoulders blindly, wanting him closer, wanting to fuck him, trying to pull back from him to tell him. He’s deadset in his focus, teeth softly grazing you in reply to your attempt.

“Can you just—” Joel grumbles, rising,“—be good for one goddamned second—” he yanks you towards him by your ankle.

“This where you want me to tell you to make me?” you tease, sitting up in his lap and wrenching him closer with your legs.

He huffs a small laugh, making to kiss you, but you hold him back.

“I want you to make me, okay?” You say seriously, grasping the hair at his nape to emphasize it.

Joel leans forward, biting your lip with care.

“Alright,” he confirms, hands around your jaw. You taste yourself on him, and a near-growl ripples through him, evident through his chest pressed against yours.

You duck away from his kiss, not caring to get his jeans off before getting a hand around his cock, your mouth enclosing the tip before you can register how much there is to take.

“Christ,” he breathes, eyes shut, face turned towards the ceiling. As your hand becomes slick enough to work over his shaft, his hands stabilize in your hair, bunching. You feel him flex in your mouth as he parts his lips and tugs on your hair, hauling you up level with his face.

“You don’t get to end it now,” Joel smiles, mouth almost against yours. You smile at the rough motion, hot interest skipping down your spine. His opposite hand is running over your chin while he composes himself, far closer than he’d wanted to be at this point.

You bite his fingers, pulling two deftly in to suck and keeping his gaze. His pupils darken and you feel a surge of pride at the same time as you feel him shove you back onto the bed, tearing his jeans off and finally joining you. Joel covers you, kissing you roughly and pulling your thighs around his hips, on his knees. He sheathes inside you without resistance, groaning and bowing his head at first. Even ready, he stretches you noticeably and you gasp at his first experimental thrusts, dragging your hips up to his each time.

You rise up to meet him, nails dug into his shoulders for traction, meeting his thrusts.

Joel hisses more in chastisement than discomfort at it, smacking your ass curiously.

“You know I’m not delicate,” you say close to his ear, snapping the lobe between your teeth unnecessarily hard.

“Shit, ow—” he grumbles, smacking you harder. You moan at the feeling, spread over his lap and trawling nails down his back. You tug where you’ve latched on, moving lower and biting his neck. He does it again, rolling his hips as you clench down on him. You scrape your teeth over his shoulder. Joel hits you again, force of it stinging how you’d hoped.

You provoke him to continue, pulling his hair, hard, and biting the skin over his collarbone.

Joel fists your hair and tugs back hard, exposing your throat to him even as you keep riding him, spanking you with almost musical timing. You almost draw blood scratching your nails out of his hair to the nape of his neck, grinning from your forced angle as he pants under you.

Joel leans forward and nips carefully over your larynx, clamping down hard on tendons just next to it. It’s a brash spot to suck a bruise into, and even the less visible parts of your body would surely be screaming on patrol in the morning.

You cry out, nerves and instinctive reaction to teeth near your neck making your heart and your cunt clench.

Joel flips you without effort, pressing a palm against your lower back to shove you into the mattress. You feel him strike your ass, once, twice, three times, and then his fingers are at your entrance, coaxing your hips to tilt up. He brushes his knuckles against you, leaning over to breathe into your ear.

“Here?”

“What did I just say?” You retort, appreciative of his caution but entirely sold on the possibility that walking will hurt tomorrow.

Joel doesn’t reply but you can see him roll his eyes from the corner of yours as he swats your cunt, hard, sensation shattering across your skin. You moan and he takes the initiative to do it again. Your shoulder blades pinch together around his hand, veering up with it. You turn your face entirely into the bed, muffling moans and faux-objections as he works, tenderness rising to the surface of your skin.

You feel Joel’s hands harshly grasp handfuls of your ass the second before he thrusts into you again, the force pinning you to the bed. He fucks you hard for long minutes, sweat building between you enough to make his hands slip. Joel’s forearm slides around your front and pulls you back against his chest.

You immediately claw at his arm, grateful to anchor yourself to him directly, pushing your hips down against his as he falls back to a gentler pace. His mouth reaches your shoulder and your hand flies to his hair again, straining to kiss him. Maybe it was weird to seek him like that—could still be a fantastic, unattached fuck—but Joel kisses you with this unerring focus that already makes you hope it will happen again.

“Takin’ me perfectly,” he drawls, some enunciation falling away with his blood coursing like this. You want to keep hearing him, so you nod and resume kissing him.

“More delicate than you thought? Need a break?” Joel taunts, and your eyes narrow as he speaks low and close, still thrusting shallowly.

“You want it hard again?” Joel teases, fingers skimming your stomach to roll your clit between them his thumb and index. It pinches and you suck in a breath, your hips floundering against his patient rhythm.

Your eyes spark and you decide to push.

“Yes, daddy,” you mock, almost sneering at him.

A dim recollection of a girl he’d briefly seen after Sarah’s mom left dusts itself off, and he reconnects dots that drifted apart from disuse after the outbreak. Joel raises his eyebrows at you and tips his head as if to say, “Well, alright then.”

You’re on your hands and knees before you can react, his hand spanning across your collarbones, bracing you against his repeated impact. Joel’s breathing becomes ragged each time he slides home, folding over you again to spill an endless wave of questions into your ear. His fingers are smoother across your clit now, drawing soaked concentric circles as you hitch.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Joel punctuates with a snap of his hips.

“You gonna come for me just like this?” Again.

“Come around my cock like a good girl?” Again, rough.

You moan, dropping to your elbows as he pounds into you, orgasm building inside of you spilling over to his fingers’ stimulation, a low groan meeting yours. You’re past words and shivering on the edge of climax when he taps your jaw.

“Focus up, c’mon,” he rumbles in your ear, demanding your attention. The pressure of his length against the tension inside of you has your vision blurring at the edges.

“Tell me,” Joel demands, pulling out halfway.

“Yes! Please, please,” you hear yourself sound panicky at the threat of losing his touch.

“Not what I asked you, baby,” he goads, nipping softly across your shoulders. His hand hasn’t stilled, and you know your eyes are rolling with the distracting pleasure of it.

“Yes, yes I will, please—”

“Tell me what,” he slips in an inch, voice shaky with thin control, fingers flexing where they meet your skin.

“Come for you, please don’t stop,” you plead, trying to shove your hips back to to meet his.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Joel murmurs and you break, quivering against his fingers and fussing with effort and relief. Your cheeks and mouth bloom red as your eyes droop with the onslaught of endorphins, still cresting as you feel Joel’s hips snap in quick succession, burying himself deep and making the best, most broken noise you could have hoped for. Even deep in your own fog, you reach for him, finding his mouth as it seeks yours again, aftershocks rolling through him.

Joel rolls onto his back, tugging you along one side. You don’t much enjoy being pinned if you weren’t also being penetrated, so the intimacy of lying there like lovers with someone you’d barely glimpsed, much less talked to, was unsettling.

Joel laughs like it’s easy for him, face lighting up with the motion, hand stroking your hair behind your ear.

“What?” You ask, propping yourself up on an elbow.

“Just surprised you said yes,” he clarifies. “I’m don’t—this isn’t a usual Wednesday for me,” he clears his throat.

You analyze his expression for a second, looking for the deceit and just finding something genuine and suspiciously shy for having nearly spanked you to orgasm minutes ago.

“You don’t accost every vulnerable newcomer and ply them with good whisky?” You prod, draping yourself over his chest, an easy negotiation of legs happening without either of you needing to acknowledge it.

“Bourbon, and, just the ones who start fistfights, really,” he teases, hands drifting over you, hungry warmth reaching his eyes as the afterglow begins to recede.

“Come downstairs?” Joel asks, like you weren’t tangled up in his bedsheets, surrounded and willingly captive to whatever he wanted.

“That was the original plan,” you protest, peering around for his shirt and slipping into it.

He smirks and kisses the tip of your nose, pausing and tipping your chin up to kiss you properly.

God damn it, you think. Oh, god damn it.

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #the last of us joel #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us ii #the last of us 2 #asks #filled prompts #prompts #joel/reader

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

Text

Tequilla and Autumn Sunsets (Favored Ones, Part 9.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Part Summary: So far, everything seemed to be good - you were happy with the thing Joel and you had, Jackson was keeping you busy and you were even talking to your friends again... Until one patrol came and everything seemed to change, making the cycle start once again.

A/N: And I oop-

Warnings: Mentions of smut, violence, murder and guns.

Word count: 4.2 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @peakymarvels @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

The fall of 2037, 5-4 months before the incident:

In the end, it wasn't as hard to make things work as you thought it would be. When you weren't in the mood, you just found a while to tell him. When he wanted you to come to stay the night, he told you. It wasn't even that hard or weird - sometimes, he just stopped by your shop to tell you, sometimes you just told him while having a casual talk when you met in town, and no-one was suspicious of you two talking. You did that before you were weird with each other - why shouldn't you do that when things were ok?

Joel showed you and taught you many things you didn't know about sex or yourself before - for example, what a doggy style means. Or that you can take cock much deeper in your throat that you initially thought.

Yeah, sure it was a long process and it was the try-and-see kinda thing, but Joel was the best person you could choose for this matter. Sometimes, when you weren't exactly feeling like fucking, you stayed up late, just drawing the curtains in his room while he learned you some more guitar songs. Or he was willing to sit through a movie with you - he especially liked these dumb 80s' ones, but you couldn't deny they're quite amusing to watch. The things were just like you were used to them - you joked around a lot, you laughed and had some good fun.

You didn't see each other every day. These sessions, which was a code name you came up with, were quite physically challenging at times. So when you or Joel had some stuff to deal with or you simply weren't in the mood, you didn't meet up for that day and once even for a week.

Diego somehow couldn't understand your sudden shift in behavior - before Joel asked you to see him again, you were affectionate with the boy, spending as much time as you could with him. But after that? He barely saw you. And it wasn't just him - even Dina and Ellie noticed that you're not spending as much time with them as you used to. But both of the ladies just dismissed as you being having too much stuff at the moment. Which was also true.

Tommy and Maria kept each of you properly busy. Sure, there were regular patrols and these where you had to take a random kiss from the group with you, but as the winter was coming by, there was more stuff to do - helping with harvesting the veggies, taking care of animals, occasionally even helping out with the pottery or sewing new clothes. It was almost November when you decided to visit Eve again, bringing her the last blossoming flowers you could find.

"Hey there." - You whispered, sitting down on your jacket while you looked at the tombstone. - "How you've been, hm?" - You asked, smoothing the leaves and other stuff out of the grave. When you were alone for almost a minute, you knew it's your time to speak up again. - "Geez, you can't shut up sometimes, huh? Let me talk too, man." - You laughed nervously. It was still strange not having her around to make fun of her, but you hoped that she's better now. Also, you could talk about Joel openly, and that wouldn't be possible if she would have an actual chance to respond.

"I am seeing this one guy. You would be weirded out, but its Joel fucking Miller. Weird, right? I can't quite process it myself if I have to be honest with you." - You giggled, leaning your cheek into your knee as you watched her name craved into the gray stone. - "But he's treating me nice, with respect. When I don't like something, all I have to do is tell him, you know? I trust him, I would say. He asks about how I'm doing even though he doesn't have to." - You smiled and looked at the grass.

You should've seen that there's something off about the whole thing way before you saw it. It was hard to determine what made you feel things such as these - if it were the nicknames he was giving you, or the stares he was watching you with or the warm approach to the whole situation. It happened a long time - you falling for the man. You just didn't know at the moment - your head was too distracted with too much of good fucking.

"When we were just laying there one night, he asked me about you and listened to every single shit I told him. It was nice. And I hadn't even cried during it, which is a big win, right?" - You sighed with a shy smile, hearing the first thunder in the distance. Well, at least you didn't have to go for a patrol that day. Or, so you thought until you saw Maria slowly walking to the grave with her palms behind her back. She waved at you and you waved back, not telling a word until she reached you.

"Hey." - She whispered, sitting down next to you as well. You smiled back, still looking at the tombstone. - "You weren't at home or Ellie's, so I figured out you'll be here."

"Did something happen?" - You asked back, being visibly alarmed at the moment. Maria shook her head quickly to assure that no matter the situation she had for you, it wasn't as bad as it sounded.

"It's just... Can I ask you something? I know you've been patrolling almost every day last week..." - She sighed. The matter was embarrassing. You were out of Jackson for almost every day now, each day taking a different route, yet she had to come and ask you. - "But Tommy had caught some cold or what and he's having a fever. And since he's in pair with Joel, he asked me to ask you if you'd be so kind and take this one. He told me 'ask that kiddo, 'cause she's probably the only one who ain't havin' tendencies to murder my brother while he sleeps'. Like... He told me he's good to go, but... And don't want to ask Ellie and you know Tommy." - Yeah, of fucking course you knew Tommy. He was probably even more hot-headed and mulish than his older brother at times. And the bit about murdering Joel? That wasn't too hard to believe either since he had the reputation of basically bullying down everyone when Ellie was about to leave Jackson. It was quite unbelievable, but these Miller boys were quite hard to get along with at moments.

You were fucking tired, to be honest, but you wouldn't Tommy go if he was ill. That would worry the shit out of Maria and you didn't like her when she was scared or worried. She was even more bossy, rude, and straightforward than normal. So you nodded.

"Of course, I won't let his sick ass to go on a patrol. Especially in this weather." - You looked at the iron clouds above you. The blonde woman sighed with relief, smoothing your palm with her while she closed her eyes.

"You're the best. I'll make Seth prepare you some extra tasty snack on your way, okay?" - She asked, getting up to leave again. You stayed there for a little longer, looking at Eve.

"Stop laughing up there, I can hear it down here. That's just my luck, you know?" - Just as always, you kissed the tips of your fingers, smoothing the cold stone. - "Take care. I'll see you again, okay?" - With that, you put the jacket on your shoulders, leaving to get your backpack. As usual, put the empty automatic gun there, a water bottle and in the end, you swung your bow and quiver of your shoulder. When you saw the damn weather, you packed another sweatshirt with you. A storm was about to start soon - which you could hear at the stables as well. The horses were far from calm, but Sadie got better once you smoother her neck and gave her an apple. Joel came there soon after you, having these small devils in his eyes. But to tell him nothing ain't happening on the patrol, you shook your head and as usual, the man calmed down immediately. It was nice to have someone who listened to you.

"Have the food and ammunition, I hope we'll get it done before it starts to rain." - Joel told you when you were leading your horses away in the direction of the gate.

"I doubt it. This route is pretty long and off-hand. But who knows?" - You smiled gently and sat on the horse's back. The patrol was fine - you were talking through the most of it, trying to fill the void on the road. You were barely three hours away from Jackson when you noticed it. There was a fire in the woods - but not a wild one. You let the horses on remnants of an asphalt road between a few houses, walking the rest on foot.

Joel saw them first, pulling them down to hide in the tall grass. You observed them for a moment, trying to make out if they were friendly or not. That was decided at the moment when you have seen a few dead bodies lying just a few meters away from them - that was the fire. The sweet smell was making you sick, but Joel put his hand on your shoulder, making you focus.

"I'll go in and try to take them out silently. Do you remember your way with the bow?" - He asked you. For a moment, you were just looking him in the face - these people killed other people. Which you'd be able to understand under some situations... But they were burning their bodies now. Which made your stomach turn upside down. - "Hey, no panic now, focus here. Right here." - The man whispered, catching your jaw in his palm. - "Do you remember it? I need you right now."

Finally, you nodded to answer the question. After that, Joel loaded his revolver for all the cases, giving you a magazine as well. He turned at you one last time before he finally sneaked off to take an upper hand on the situation. - "Good girl. Just stay with me until we done, 'kay?"

You nodded, this time to support and hype yourself up. Joel put his trust in you. You could do it. You trained for this - and you couldn't let Joel alone in this at all. Slowly, you moved into a good potion, hitting one of your palms with a rock. The pressure almost made your head pop since you thought they'll know about you, they didn't even notice - yet another thought crossed your mind. Distraction. Joel needed a distraction. So you picked the rock up and threw it off to a distance. It caused some noise that made the men turn around. There was four of them as it turned out when they started to inspect the situation around.

After a while, you saw Joel pinning one of them down, dragging him to the grass as he choked him. Your time to do something. A long breath left your breath as you positioned yourself, looking at one of the guys. What the fuck were you doing? This wasn't right. Maybe you and Joel could talk it out with them? Bullshit, they had a fireplace from a pile of dead bodies. They were a threat to you, Joel, and potentially to Jackson. You had to do it. It took you a long time to aim because you were shaking like crazy, but in the end, your arrow didn't miss its target - it ended up in his the guys head, and watched him as he fell straight to the fire along with other bodies. He was dead at the moment you did it. You were a fucking murderer. You killed a non-infected.

Sure, you were realizing you've just killed someone for the first time, but the adrenaline rush inside you, and the fear for Joel, was way stronger than that. Also, these bitches could notice where did that arrow come from, so it was a matter of time before they'd find you. And you were so terrified you couldn't move. For a second, you closed your eyes and prayed to God to be merciful and let them kill you fast without any fuckery around. Just when one of the guys was about to approach you, Joel caught the other remaining one, circling his forearm around the man's neck. - "Stop where you are and hands in the air." - Your old man ordered calmly, throwing the guy's gun on the ground, putting his revolver to his temple. When the other guy didn't listen and still aimed at Joel, Joel defused the gun.

"I ain't playin', son. Throw the gun on the ground right fuckin' now." - In horror, you listened to two shots being fired. With a cry, you jumped on the guy's back, stabbing his throat with your arrow again and again. You couldn't stop yourself - even when you were both already on the ground and his head was cut off of his body, you continued. You just continued with stabbing him as you cried. He shot Joel. You were too afraid to look if your man was alright, so you just sat on that guy's chest, finally giving in to the urge to cry. You were terrified of yourself.

You practically collapsed on the dead body, having a full-blown panic attack. At that moment, you felt someone's arm circling your chest, pulling you off. You tried to stab them as well, but firm hold on your palm made you realize it's Joel. A shaky breath left you as you gave in into the touch, having the man rock you from side to side.

"You're good, girl. You're good. You're good." - He whispered and hugged you even tighter. At that moment, a rumble of thunder shook the ground, and rain started to fall heavily. But you couldn't even move. All you were capable of was to climb deeper into Joel's arms while you cried. - "Lemme get you outta here girl, come on." - The man hummed into your hair, lifting you off of the ground.

Never, not even when you left the Fireflies, have you killed someone. At least not someone healthy. What the fuck have you done? What did you do? In the middle of Joel making your way to the houses, you jumped off and ran to puke the fuck out into the grass. You felt fucking sick. This was something so disgusting. You've just taken another person's life. One of your palms was leaning into a wall of one of the houses as you stood there, cried and puked. It didn't matter that you're soaking wet already - the rain couldn't wipe away what you've done, the blood was soaked into your clothes and even if you managed to get the blood off of your palms, it was still there, hot and sticky between your fucking fingers. Joel understood what you were doing through - he was the same when it was his first time.

But he knew that he has to get you out of the rain before it will be too late, you could catch tome flu or something like that. And he also knew that worse demons will find a way into your head once you'll think you've solved the matter for good.

"I need you to get inside the house. Can you do that for me?" - He came to you and smoothed your back gently. It took you a moment to nod. - "I'll brin' the horses in and come to you, 'kay? Just wait for me there."

You both did as you agreed on. Your way to the houses was rough - the ground around you was shaking and spinning, your knees felt almost too weak. Joel led the horses inside the garage and found you collapsed on the ground in front of the doorstep when he entered the front door. You were snuggled into a tight position, rocking yourself from side to side. You were pressing your head between your knees to find some relief, but none was coming.

Quickly, he prepared you a place to lay on, took the jacket off his shoulders before coming back to you. Just like the first time, you've almost attacked him before realizing who he was.

"Come with me, girl." - He mumbled quietly, helping you in your feet. Before he shifted his attention to you, he made sure that the doors and windows are closed - you were even so lucky to find a place with a fireplace, so at least, he started a fire. First, he took the clothes covered in blood off of you, putting your wet sweatshirt on your upper body. It was better than nothing. Then, he laid you down on the big couch, lying next to you so he copied your body with his before he covered you both with the wet sleeping bag.

You were shivering. And a feeling of being cold was taking over your body. Yet your brain kept on replaying you what you've just done. - "Attagirl." - The man mumbled, nuzzling his face to the nape of your neck before he kissed it. - "You're with me now. These guys won't hurt you."

With that, you turned to him, putting your palm over his side. Your faces were just inches from each other, so he could feel the rhythm of your warm breath gently breezing over his face. - "Am I a terrible person? I mean, what if he had a family? Kids? What if we misread the situation?" - With that, Joel could tell that you're shaken to your core.

It was more than understandable. If you'd be living in the old world, you'd never have to think about killing someone. That thought would probably never cross your mind if the world wasn't completely fucked up. And until that day, you never had a reason to kill a human being. Infected? Sure, he saw you killing infected. But to know it were normal, thinking, breathing living persons, that was a serious lot.

"I would talk to 'em if they weren't burnin' other bodies. These people weren't good ones, 'kay? You've done it for me." - There wasn't much more to say. In any way, no matter how hard would Joel try, he couldn't tell you anything to make you feel at least a bit better. With closed you nodded, finally closing your eyes.

"Will you sing something for me? Just like you did back then?" - You whispered, giving in to the feeling of Joel's palm smoothing your shoulder. Of course, he did sing for you. And this time, it wasn't some Johnny Cash song. You remembered this one - it was one of the songs he played for you when you sat at the bonfire.

To be honest, you fell asleep pretty quick - you were tired, every inch of your muscles hurt and the pain in your eyes was too great to open them. The man stayed up for another hour, watching small spasms and furrows changing in your face. The sleep sure as hell wasn't peaceful. Yet when he was sure that you'll sleep for at least a while, he took a quick nap next to you as well.

The smell of the burning wood had woken you up. It wasn't exactly the burning wood, but the smoke of the fire ending was tickling your nose so bad you had to sneeze. Fortunately, it didn't wake Joel up. When you opened up your eyes, you expected to see his face just inched away from yours, so you gently picked up your head, feeling the muscles on your neck and back hurt. It took you a few more winks to realize that you have a clear view of the fireplace. Joel was laying on his back with one of his palms used as a pillow, his other arm pulled over your shoulder.

Sure, it was pretty normal to sleep next to each other at that point, sometimes having his arm or leg thrown over your body, but you had never slept anywhere near to something like that... All snuggled up to each other. There was a contained smile on Joel's lips, even though he was asleep. And if you'd be okay, it would make you lose your shit for real.

But you just laid down again, watching the dying fire. It was just like being stuck in some kind of a cycle - there was a time you felt numb, not alive at all. This came after something happened - when you ran away from Salt Lake City or when you watched Harry getting eaten alive, the day Maria came to your home to tell that Eve didn't make it... And that evening as well. When you got over the bad phase, there was something you could call being lifeless. It were the days when all you could do was to lay down in your bed, look into the ceiling, thinking about your life. And when you'd get through this, you'll slowly get better as the time would pass. Just to wait before another thing comes and brings you down, repeating the cycle over and over again.

Joel was most likely right. He was living in this world for a lot longer than you were - he knew a lot of things you had no idea about. For example, the forearm which was holding you close and warm could suffocate someone. He also was very really haunting when he was holding one the gen as a hostage. How could the man who was calling you girl in the warmest tone of voice, the one who was playing guitar for you and the man who was fucking you like there was no tomorrow - how could he kill someone with such calmness?

The men certainly weren't good. They could be hunters - people you've never encountered, you've only learned about them from Joel and Eve, sometimes Ellie told you her stories about this kind of people. That would explain why they were burning naked bodies of people... But... What if they caught some sort of illness? What if the people were their friends and they had to kill them? Why didn't you try to talk with them? Maybe you didn't have to go in as hotheaded as you did.

At that moment, there were two people inside your head having a big argument - one of them thought about the thing you have done was straightaway bad, no excuses could explain what you did. ON the other hand, there was the other one, the cold one, was telling you that these people would fire a bullet to your forehead as soon as they'd see you approaching.

With a long sigh, you closed your eyes once again as you hugged Joel tighter, pulling yourself so tight you copied every inch of his body. This was helping at least a tiny bit. For the first time when the cycle had restarted, you didn't feel completely alone. There was someone you could pull yourself closer to feel at least a bit safe.

"How you feelin'?" - A raspy voice asked you just as Joel had woken up. Even when you were both up, he hadn't taken his arm off of your shoulder - actually, his palm started to draw small patterns there. Joel still kept his eyes closed and it could be seen that he's feeling completely contained at the moment. Which seemed weirdly off rails, but you decided to ignore it.

"I feel... Nothing." - You answered quietly, slowly getting up. This felt too emotional. Sure, it was probably just to keep you feeling at least a bit good and away from going coo-coo. And it worked just as he expected it to.

"Give it a few days, it'll settle down. You'll be good, trust me." - Joel mumbled and watched you getting food from Seth out of your backpack before sitting down to look at the dying fire. - "What made you conclude this?" - You asked and gulped.

"You're a survivor. Just like Ellie is, just like Jesse is... And just like I am." - He answered shortly, letting the silence to take over the situation you got there at the moment. Just like the last time you were on a patrol with Joel, everyone could tell that something went off rails as soon as they saw you in the distance. You were both late, and your trousers were covered in dried blood.

Ellie was patiently waiting for you in front of the stables to ask you about what has happened when Joel pulled you back a bit, looking you in the face. - "Do you want me to come today?" - He whispered. It was a nice offer, but you shook your head nonetheless. - "I'll see you... When I'll feel better, okay?" - You whispered back, having him nod with a neutral expression, and with that, you watched him leaving for home, not entirely sure what to feel anymore.

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