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dnvrsmedia · 10 months

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Looking Towards A Better Tomorrow

Ellie Williams x Reader

Summary: aftermath of Seattle & Santa Barbra

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

an: if you’ve seen this before it’s because i’m reposting from my ao3 do not be alarmed!

———————

The sun beamed onto your skin as the world seemed to turn slowly. An off feeling encapsulating you, sucking you in like quicksand. Tumultuous waters never let up, drowning you in a flurry of conflicting emotions. Stuck in a state of emotional limbo, your far off stare didn’t go unnoticed by all. The auburn haired girl furrowed her eyebrows. Your catatonic like state sending a pang of worry in her gut.

It’s been months since the tragic events of Seattle occurred. Months since the three of you made it back to Jackson by the skin of your teeth. Yet, Ellie wonders if a part of you stayed all those miles away. Your bright and bubbly exterior dimmed almost completely all those months ago. Neither of you ever managed to get a full night's rest without the other waking up in a cold sweat, screaming in terror. Walking on eggshells around each other didn’t help either. Her refusal to think about the events combined with your selective mutism caused conflicts to arise.

You didn’t speak for a month straight following the events. Maria begged the two of you to join Jackson’s weekly counseling sessions. She mentioned something about the importance of working through trauma. That day was the first time you laughed in weeks. Not because there was anything funny, but in frustration. Words cannot explain what Seattle was like for you. How could anyone understand the awful things that happened? How terrified you were at not only yourself and the world around you, but at the person your lover was becoming. The sweet, snarky, and sharp little girl was no longer there. Revenge flowed through her veins, constricting all rational thought—leaving behind a tunnel visioned killer.

There is no doubt that the two of you have changed—arguably for the worse. The innocence ripped from your chests made it hard for you to stay in Jackson. The memories flooding your mind as you walk past Jesse’s old place leaves a sinking feeling in your gut. Suddenly you’re feeling the burning sensation of an arrow piercing through your skin as you drop to the ground. The scent of the red metallic substance pooling out of your body and onto the wood floor takes over. Your breath constricts as the feeling of a bicep as big as your thigh cradles your neck in its deviously tight restraint. The whales of Ellie pleading to spare your life start to drown out as the thumbing of your heartbeat overtakes.

“Hey, Hey! It’s alright, you’re home.” A familiar voice breaks through your flashback. Your eyes blink one then twice, adjusting to your surroundings. When did you get on all fours? Your body is heaved over as your hands grip the soil fueled by terrifying strength. A freckled hand moves to cup your jaw. The back and forth motion of her thumb sends a soothing vibration across your body. Words of affirmation spew from your lover’s lips as your breathing slows. Your canonic like state continues on until the move is made.

The farmhouse was a blessing in disguise. Not only for your sanity, but for the growth of your relationship with Ellie.

As the days pass and as the night goes, glimpses of your personalities before come back in pieces. Substituting the painful reminders with tending to the farm allowed you the space to slowly heal not just emotionally, but heal your relationship with Ellie. You wouldn’t want to admit this out loud, but you held resentment against your freckled faced lover. You asked yourself day in and day out why you weren’t enough. Revenge overtook her life and swept her up in the flurry of it all, leaving you behind—broken and battered. Rebuilding your life from ground up once again. You cursed her name in a silent prayer; eyes burning holes in her body, wishing that there wasn’t a single part of you that belonged to her. Yet, you stayed. Through all the times your anger almost moved you led with blind rage, you stepped away. No matter how

much you lost, you will never succumb to hate. Rage ruined your life, took away your freedom, your friends, your smile, your light…her light. Rage took your girl away from you.

“We need to talk.” A solemn face adorned your features—this seemingly permanent look etched into your skin since Seattle.

Ellie— currently tucked in the chicken coop, tending to Bertha, the ginger feathered Golden Comet. A grunt in acknowledgment is given as she finishes laying the feed inside of the coop, walking out to you at the door.

She goes to fidget with her two fingers and is met with the top of her palm. A familiar sinking feeling lands in her gut at the memory. The physical reminder of all that she has lost. Ellie takes a short breath and shoves her three-fingered hand into her back pocket. Ellie’s eyes fail to reach yours—she knows what your face looks like. The upturned brows with a sad smile. She knows you worry. She also knows she’s hurt you the most.

“You know I love you, Ellie Williams.” Your jaw clenches—‘you will not cry before you finish’ repeats in your head like a mantra.

Ellie’s eyes finally meet yours as she tentatively nods her head, scared to see where this is going.

“My love for you is what has made me stay. No matter how much you have broken my heart, Ellie, I stayed. I stayed with you even though I had no idea why I'd do that to myself,” Your eyes gaze up at the setting sky as Ellie trails your face, taking in your words.

“I have been so fucking good to you!” You huff with a sad smile.

“I stayed and I killed for you Ellie. I’ve done things that I can never undo. I’ve done and seen things that have changed me forever. I mean I can’t close my eyes without seeing death. I can’t sleep without hearing Seattle.” Tears frustratingly slide down the rounds of your cheeks, once overused by the smile that seemed to never leave your face oh so long ago.

Tears well up in your lover's eyes as she frustratingly wipes her eyes, hating the vulnerability.

“I spent so long asking what I did wrong after you left. If I was ever enough for you, and it broke me. It broke me so fucking bad, Ellie.” You sobbed, unable to keep your tears at bay.

The sound of your cries sends a knife through the auburn haired girl's heart. Ellie pulls you into her chest, encapsulating you in her arms—your home.

“I know, babe, I’m so fucking sorry.” Ellie whines as her tears flow more freely. You breathe in her scent, calming you down.

“But I stayed, okay? I’m always here. We went through hell back there and I know that we are just barely surviving with our heads above water, but i’m fucking here okay? You don’t walk out on me ever again you hear me?” You pull your body from the crook of her neck and speak, holding her eye contact intensely.

“And you talk to me, you hear me? None of that holding it in. You talk to me, Williams. We have no one left and I refuse to lose you too. You may not care about your life but I. Fucking. Do.”

With those words, Ellie breaks down in sobs. You haven’t seen her cry for months. Ellie is a protector, she puts everything on the line to protect those she loves, even if it means sparing her own feelings. Or at least, what she believes to be her feelings. Ellie had never been in a position where she felt safe enough to express or engage in her feelings. If she did, there would be consequences immediately causing her to never open up again. She also views this as a preservation of your life. Everyone she has ever opened up to has died because of her one way or another. Why have the gift and the curse of being immune if all she caused was death all around her?

Heavy heaves and blubbers of ‘I’m sorry’ leave her mouth as she clings onto you for dear life. The decades of guilt and trauma being released from her body as she crumples in your touch. These tears aren’t only for the pain she’s inflicted upon you, her light, but for everything. For never meeting her mother to losing her first love, to Joel. All of these events shaped her to be who she is today. How cruel? To have a life full of loss but a gift so precious. When those who love her dearly die, those who she believes deserve life more than her. What a cyclical fate to be bestowed upon an ordinary girl. Having to know so much yet never knowing herself.

Your heart breaks as you hold onto the fragile frame of the girl you love. Steady steps are taken to make way back inside. Hoping this is a turning point, you sit her in the bathroom and heat up some water. Ellie’s tears have calmed as she watches you gather the buckets of heated water. You fill up the tub before turning to reach her eyes with a saddened smile.

“Arms up.” You tugged at the bottom of her now off-white vest. A small yet grateful nod is given by your lover before she lifts her arms above her head.

This was a routine you have done many times with Ellie after tough patrols. Whenever her body ached too much or her thoughts ran too deep, you would bathe her. The memories of these flood back to her as you help her undress fully. Ellie plants a kiss to your temple before you usher her to lay back in the tub.

You unwrap your favorite package of soap you had been given by Dina on your last trip back to Jackson. The beautiful lavender was your signature scent Ellie grew to love just as much as you. Ellie reached for your hand tentatively— gauging for your reaction. She takes it as a sign to further her touch when you intertwine your fingers. Her chapped lips press kisses to your palm and hand, showing her gratitude.

“M’ gonna have to let go so I can help, El.” You laugh.

Ellie’s eyes snap up to yours at the nickname she missed hearing so badly. She never realized how much she could miss someone she stayed under the same roof with. Fearing that this intimacy would flutter away, Ellie grips your hand tighter. Fear showed in her eyes as she pleaded for you to stay.

“Don’t…please, just,” She huffs as she feels herself becoming emotional. Learning that your emotions are natural will be a learning curve; proving its difficulty right now. “Could you…come in with me?” Ellie closes her eyes to calm herself down.

The skilled killer no longer made a home in your partner's body. All that was left of her was the fragile soul of a girl who’s been hurt too many times. The girl who wanted to be protected, loved, and happy for once.

“Okay, baby girl. I’m here, alright? Just gotta let go for a bit so I can get undressed but I'm right here.” You kiss her palm once before slowly letting go of her fingers. The tense grip on your hand loosens as she watches you move towards the tub.

You slide your body behind your lover gently before picking up her designated shower rag and your favorite soap. Your hands gently work through the auburn haired girls' taught muscles. Nimble fingers taking away all tension she has been carrying on her shoulders while scrubbing her clean—leaving a new start. A start full of love and light for the both of you. Of mourning your past lives, but embracing the good yet to come. Embracing the healing.

#dnvrsmedia #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fic #ellie williams hurt comfort #hurt/comfort #epilogue ellie #tlou2 epilogue #ellie williams fluff

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ellieluvr420 · 3 months

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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Ways you can help Palestine

Trusted organisations you can donate to

TLOU (TLOU2 especially) is rooted in Zionism and Neil Druckmann is a Zionist. Please don't buy the games or watch the show unless pirating. Separate the characters from the content and its creators!

Please make sure that as well as spreading information and awareness online you are also doing it in real life! Never stop the conversation with the people around you because often its the people you know in real life (especially of older generations) that need the education. If you can go to protests, please do but be careful and take the necessary measures to protect yourself and others around you.

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This account and the fics I write are an escape and a release for me but my account stands with palestine as it always will so any discourse (by discourse, I mean debate not communication as information-sharing is of course welcome) around the topic will not be tolerated because there shouldn't be any discourse, you either support genocide or you don't and anyone that does support the Israeli genocide of Palestinians or any for that matter is not welcome on my account. This is a safe space for my beautiful followers and any decent person is welcome but let's keep things kind please bby's.

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

We Meet Again, Darling

SYNOPSIS: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

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Part 8

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Part 10

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Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Epilogue

Friends? Never

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

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Part 22

Part 23

Eye for an Eye

SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.

Teaser

Part 1

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𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

Abby

Change They had her, the love of your life, they had her and they were going to die for it.

Guardian Angel A guardian angel getting wrapped up with the human she was supposed to be protecting, a double-edged sword bound to hurt. The memory of you, your calming presence in a time where everything was hanging in the balance haunted her. All she craved was to see you again. She was addicted, obsessed. She needed you in every way but you only appeared in her mind, you were never part of reality. You were her saviour, the blood running through her veins, all she wanted was you, that was all she would ever want.

Ellie

You're mine It was silent, neither of you moved or spoke, your eyes were fixed on each other, neither of you daring to look away. Your eyes were glassy and bloodshot and hers were cold and dark, your nose was sore and running as you sniffled holding the tears in your eyes that were begging to be let free. You didn't understand how a girl that shows you as much love as she does could hurt you so bad.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Abby

Wife Abby

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eupheme · 1 year

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IN THE WOODS SOMEWHERE | part v: epilogue

[masterlist]

joel miller x f!reader

Rated E - 5k

Tags: brief canon-divergence, reader is mid/late 30s+, canon-typical violence / mention of guns, mentions of anxiety, very vague mentions of early TLOU2 content, mild manipulation, protected piv

A/N - I had a couple ao3 comments asking about an epilogue/sequel, so I thought it would be fun to write out an (optional) epilogue of how I see their story ending 💕

And perhaps… it’s time to take a journey of your own.

EPILOGUE

Your fingers spread wide, as you hold them up near your shoulders. The exhaustion setting in, a tremble in your limbs as your eyes fix on the group some yards away in front of you.

Two on horseback - catching up from the scouts that had surprised you, when you had stepped into the wooded clearing. Four others on foot, two with their guns raised. A snarling dog with raised hackles barely held back on a leash.

Too tired to notice, to be careful. Now, you regret it, feeling the press of your own rifle as it nudges against the small of your back.

Forcibly ripped from you by a stocky, young man - sneaking up to disarm you as the other had approached from the front.

Your eyes stay fixed on the group now - darting between each of them as the silence lingers.

Five hundred fucking miles.

Give or take another dozen or so - lost trails and endless diversions. Avoiding the large cities and the QZs, as you took your time in the woods instead.

So close to where you were headed.

It has you wondering if you had left a little sooner - moved a little faster - if you could have made it.

You had spent a long time thinking about it. The offer, spoken on that walk. Written on the bit of paper, tucked so carefully into the book.

Telling yourself you'd be a fool to follow after him, when you saw the distance. Plotting it out on that worn map, now tucked into your back pocket.

Nothing more than wishful thinking. A dream.

There isn't such a thing as second chances any more.

But they had been one, hadn't they?

A reminder of how good things could be. That there were still things worth pursuing.

Only for your thoughts to turn on a time, telling yourself that staying there - in that small, remote cabin - was safe.

Another turn.

Wondering - was that safety worth it, now that you know what was out there?

You resist. Telling yourself that you'll stay. But you find yourself unable to help your own slow packing.

Categorizing wants and needs as the days pass in your home. Figuring out what you could bring with you. What could be left behind, to help someone else.

It was deep into spring, when something shifted. The cold winter melted into something new and promising - a warm breeze on your face as you stood on the porch.

You'd played it safe too long. Clung onto the remnants of before, spent enough time dwelling on ghosts. Knowing now that it was regret that ate at you, though it had taken until then to realize it.

Realizing it was never the journey that was holding you back, not really. Even with your idleness you had still survived before the cabin. Was brave enough to wander out - always coming back home.

It was opening yourself up again, that scared you. Leaving the familiar to follow in the footsteps of another, like you had before.

Trusting that this time, they won’t leave you.

The heavy bag hoisted on your shoulder, as you gave the cabin a final look. Everything tidy, anything personal taken with you or disposed of. Unable to bear the thought of those memories in the attic being looted, taken by someone undeserving.

The cabin is left though - waiting to welcome the next. You think there will be another. That the warmth and generosity that's been gifted here has become part of the foundation - seeping in.

A final touch to the horseshoe above the door. Saying goodbye.

Setting out, following the little marks you had scratched onto the map.

The days started to pass. You thought you had been set, from your patrols. But the full days on the road had left you exhausted.

Grateful that your indecision had drawn out into warmer days - not being able to imagine hiking through the cold.

That had you thinking of them often. Hoping, wishing, that they were okay. Daydreaming about finding them at the end of this long road - wherever it was leading you.

It takes you over a month of walking. Longer than you anticipated, even as carefully as you had planned.

Twice, you almost went back. Actually turning around and backtracking, before stopping - forcing yourself forward again.

Once, after a rainstorm that soaked you through, leaving you huddling beneath an outcropping of rock. Shivering as the night had drawn close around you, wishing you were back home - tucked beneath the quilts.

Another when you were hit with the vastness of it all. A fear that lanced through you, enough to buckle your legs. Miles of open road. So much could go wrong. The dead and raiders and a million other scenarios passing through your mind.

Both times, the thought of Joel and Ellie persisting brought courage back into your limbs. Remembering how far they had come.

Thousands of miles, not just hundreds.

If they could do it, so could you.

He wouldn’t have offered, if it hadn’t been worth it.

And, you trust him.

You trust Joel.

———

A sharp voice brings you back.

The bark of a question that you miss, blinking as you look down the barrel of the rifle pointed at you.

The man frowns, the barrel dipping and shifting in his arms as your eyes fix on him.

"State your business." He repeats firmly, leaving no room for anything else.

They haven't fired yet, which is more than you could say about some of the travelers you've met. Cautious, even with their numbers. Moving as a unit, almost as if they were part of a community.

And, maybe they were. Maybe you weren't as far off as you had thought.

"Jackson." You answer - voice coming out cracked and rough, from lack of use, "I am heading there. To meet someone."

Looks are exchanged, at your answer. Further confirmation, in a way.

A jolt going up your spine at the way the frown increases, the way the rifle adjusts in his grip again. The shifting of the others, an eerie, tight stillness in their posture - offset by the barking of the dog, the standing hooves of the horses.

"Give me a name."

The hand of another twitches towards their belt, the movement towards the holster subtle. You don't want to reach for your own hidden at your hip, not with these numbers. But if you have to, you will.

“Tommy.” You manage, through the pounding of your heart, “I’m looking for Tommy. I have a letter-"

The words die off, as the fingers close around the handle. A true silence lingering then, at the name.

Eyes flicking unconsciously towards one of the mounted riders - their face shadowed by the wide brim of an copper-colored Steton.

After a long moment, his head tilts back. A streak of sunlight passing over his face as he nudges his horse towards - breaking the rank to move in front of you. The thudding of his boots as he unmounts, bringing himself closer to eye-level.

A tightness in your chest, as you finally get a good look at him. You can see Joel in his face. It's in the set of his jaw, that same way they both frown.

A hand extended with a gruff command, "Show me."

Your own move slowly, to the breast pocket of your coat - the one next to your heart. The letter has been read a hundred times. The paper now worn and creased at the edges, the folded lines pressed deep.

Flimsy, as you offer it out for him to take.

His eyes scan the page, passing over the familiar handwriting. Lingering on the end, like you thought that they might.

They dart up to yours. Less suspicion and more curiosity now - the sharp frown exchanged for eyebrows that lift.

The smallest pull beneath his dark mustache, as his eyes flick over you for a second, assessing. Hands bracing on his hips in a way that feels so familiar that it aches.

"I'm Tommy." He tells you after a moment - as that hand is offered out again.

"I know." You offer a small smile as you take it this time - his hand strong in yours as he shakes it. As you tell him your own name.

A shallow jerk of his head, back towards the path that you'd been following.

“Think you better come with us. Sounds like we got ourselves a bit of acquainting to do.”

-----

Holy shit.

It's all you can think about - that word bouncing around in your mind. Repeating.

It had taken an hour to get to Jackson, you could feel the eyes boring into your back as you were crowded up to the front of the pack. Offered Tommy's horse, but you said you'd walk. Not wanting that extra attention.

But you could tell they were listening, when Tommy had asked you how you knew Joel.

"He, uh, stayed with me. For some time, over the winter." You had told him, cautious of your words.

You had felt protective of Ellie. Certain that Tommy might know about her, but neither one had never mentioned Joel’s brother before the letter.

It had also made you wonder if they had made it back. If they’d believe you, even with the note.

He nodded then, just a tiny thing. His next words had surprised you, "You're the girl from Colorado."

Your eyed flick to his, "Uh, yeah. I am."

Tommy smiled then. It seemed to come so much easier for him than it did for his brother. Brightening his face, making him look years younger, "Reckon he'll be pleased to hear you arrived."

Relief flooded through you. That they had made it back. That they were okay.

And god, you had hoped so. Old thoughts came back - hoping it wasn't just an idle offer. All those affections waning over time. Worrying he might not have wanted anything to do with you, anymore.

You were unable to help taking the bait, "Did he give you that impression?"

"He hasn't mentioned you much." Tommy had shrugged, "Lot of what I've heard was from Ellie.

A silence had come, a little pit forming in your stomach. But then, a kindness had come.

"But he's my brother, and well... I know him."

It had flowed into you. Wrapping around your heart and tying your stomach in knots. Making your steps feel lighter, on that last leg of your journey.

Now - the city looms up in front of you. The gates opening, beckoning you in.

In all your imaginings, you hadn't expected there to be a whole fucking town waiting for you.

A real one.

A running wooden wall, wrapping around a tucked-away town. Fields of farmland and the glint of a greenhouse. People filling the streets, actually looking happy.

When you hear there's hot, running water - you feel like you could weep.

Joel hadn't been lying, when he said there was more out there.

You hadn't known something like this had existed, anymore.

It’s hard to pay attention, as you’re led through the streets. Wanting to take everything in - each stall, every house. Not just horses, but farm animals. An expanse of grass peppered with cows, in shades of white and black and brown.

Almost tripping over your feet, as you follow Tommy inside the large house - tucked one road off the main street.

There’s a woman standing inside at the top of the wooden stairs. Seeming waiting for you, a beckoning of her arm that extends to you, once you reach the top.

“Maria Miller,” She tells you, with a smile. One you return as you make the connection, as Tommy sidles past her to grab the first door at the top of the hallway.

Beating her to the table, pulling the chair out for her to sit. A heavy sigh as she drops into it - passing over the bedroll tucked under her arm.

You can already see the way he looks at her. The worry that melts into a kind smile. The love in his eyes - fingers that brush her shoulder before he excused himself to head join the patrol again.

A silence, though not an uncomfortable one, settles in his absence.

"It's amazing what you have here." You offer.

Catching the way her hand rests on the curve of her belly, the unconscious circle it makes. Unable to help the way your eyes linger for just a moment, before darting back up and away.

Of course children had been born, in the years after. Ellie had been proof of that. But the thought of someone growing up here - in the family - brings a small smile to your face.

Another thing that you hadn’t thought was possible.

"Thank you. It's been a lot of hard work." Her answer is quiet, humble.

"You've been here a long time?" You press, taking quick stock of the room.

Forgetting how big houses can be. Used to the small cabin with its handful of rooms. Hearing the creaking of the floor from the others that lived here.

It's nice. An aged bedspread - a wooden dresser and dusty mirror. A shared bathroom down the hall. More than generous, for someone they do not know.

"From the beginning. Been about seven years now."

That pulls you back. Impressed - thinking about how difficult that must have been. The responsibility that must sit on her shoulders.

But unable to help the yawn that wracks through your body, "I'd love to hear about that, sometime."

"Sometime." She agrees. Pushing herself up slowly, with a smile, "Dinner is at six. We'll come and get you?"

The thought of sleeping that long in a real bed after those weeks on the road is a blessing. Still jittery beneath the exhaustion, unable to help your wondering as she turns to leave.

"Maria?"

You swallow, as she stands in the doorway. Looking expectant, as if she knows what you're going to ask.

"Will they be at dinner?"

Ellie, and Joel. You want to see them, even though the thought has your nerves and stomach flipping and tumbling.

Her smile is small, "I expect so."

A pause, as she considers. A seriousness clouding her face, the words spoken so carefully.

"Do you know Joel well?” Maria asks, as her eyes narrow slightly, “Did he tell you much about himself?"

The way she says it sends up an alarm. Catching on to the way she looks at you. Not quite concerned, but knowing. A fingertip scratching at paint, to see how thick the layer is.

You wonder if it's a warning. A caution.

But the world had turned grey a long time ago. Leaving no one untouched, not even yourself. You were in no place to condemn him.

"He stayed with me for a while." You meet her gaze as you sit on the bed, pulling a leg up. Resting an arm across your knee, "He never showed me anything but kindness."

For a second, it feels like she examines you. But it's a truthful answer - that despite the rocky meeting and his gruff demeanor, he had been good to you.

Tommy had bragged about her on the way back. You know a little bit and pieces about her past, and it gives you the feeling that once - she was very good at her job.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that."

The smile comes back, as her hand closes around the doorknob, "I'll let you rest.”

You’re asleep in moments.

———

It feels unreal.

Not that you faced discomfort in your cabin - but the eating hall is something else. Surrounding you with warm wood walls, strings of soft yellow lights strung across the ceiling.

Real electricity. You had marveled at it - flicking the lights in your bathroom back and forth, before you stepped under the spray of a scalding-hot shower. Your first in years.

Scrubbed clean, as you sit. Tables covered with checkered tablecloth. The murmurs of conversations - people and families filling the space.

A community.

You hadn't realized how much you missed it. Thought you had been content with that tucked away cabin. And you had - you just hadn't realized that empty feeling in your chest, as the time slowly passed.

Not until now.

That thought has you unable to keep your eyes flicking to the other tables, as you eat. Watching and waiting.

They'd brought you over early - laden your plate with fresh vegetables and baked bread. It had taken all your self-control to slow down, to not shovel everything into your mouth with bare hands.

Tommy's lips twitch when you finally sink back in your chair - your fork clattering on the ceramic. Plate all but licked clean, after your days on the road.

He smiles so much easier than Joel. You don't mean to look at him so much but it's so fascinating to see the same expressions flicker across his face. To imagine Joel younger, because Tommy certainly has to be. Wondering if he had ever grown his hair so long, laughed as often.

The thought feels.. not quite right.

That’s not the person you followed here.

Maria leaves the two of you alone for a moment, when she sees someone she's been meaning to talk to. It's in that moment that he leans towards you, an elbow pressing into the tabletop.

"Hey." He begins, in the same tone of voice Maria had used earlier. That skittish feeling flickers again, as your fingers press into the sticky, plastic tablecloth.

"I told my brother you were here. You're, uh, not gonna tell him, are you? Mike shouldn't have been so rough when we found you.”

There's still a throb in your shoulder and fingers from the way the man had twisted the rifle away from you, tearing it from your grip.

Definitely Joel's younger brother. Reminding you of your own family so much that it aches for a moment.

"Nah," Your smile is small, "I get it. Your smile is small. Gotta protect the ones you love, right?"

There's an unconscious way that his eyes flit to his wife that has you softening. His smile is genuine when he turns back, a flicker of relief across his face.

"Exactly. Thank you."

You're half-standing soon after to turn your plate in, an excuse to take a full glance around the room, when something - someone - crashes into you.

An expletive as the world tilts, as your hip jams against the table. Your hands grasping at the edge, barely keeping yourself upright.

"Holy fucking shit!" They cry, as arms crush around your ribs.

Your arm wraps around her, the tightness in your chest and throat having only a little to do with your inability to breathe.

She pulls away quickly when she remembers where she is, almost embarrassed. Still so much a teenager, fingers twisting as she talks a mile a minute.

"I knew something was up when Joel told me to meet him here. But I had no idea it was you! When did you get here?"

His name has your eyes lifting, glancing back the way she came. Where he lingers at the far end of the table - silent, as his fingers wrap tightly around the top rail of the chair. Two plates abandoned, kernels of corn spilling across the surface when Ellie had spotted you.

Joel looks at you like he's not quite sure you're real.

Like if he was anywhere else, he'd be closing that gap - hands cupping your jaw, tilting your mouth up to meet his.

The look of someone holding himself back.

"Just got in." You tell her, breathlessly. Smiling, as you sink back into your chair - Ellie pulling up the one right next to you.

Reaching for the plate that Joel passes your way, as he sinks into the chair next to Tommy - whose eyes are eagerly darting between the two of you.

“I didn’t think we’d ever see you again.” Ellie’s tone is accusing, as she loads up her fork, "You didn't tell us goodbye when we left."

"Ellie." Joel admonishes - knowing that it was a decision he had pushed for. Purposely getting up early, vetoing her when she has realized his intent.

There's another twinge of regret. But you don't have to feel that way again. Your answer comes slowly, with a smile.

"Well that's because it wasn't, right? I knew I'd see you again."

She gives a small, rolled-eye smile - one you remember well. Now that the initial excitement has ebbed, you get the feeling that she seems older. Wiser, maybe - some of her expressive energy subdued.

Maybe you're looking too hard.

It makes you wonder what happened, after they had left. If it was successful. A question heavy on your tongue - but you swallow it, saving it for later.

The space is filled with stories of your journey there. How you have a new appreciation of how far they walked, exaggerating the woes of your journey. How you couldn't wait to sleep in a real bed - a real house - tonight.

"Yeah, we’ve got the best place. You’re gonna stay with us, right?" They way she says it doesn't sound like a question, even though it is.

Oh. You hadn't really thought about it.

Well, you had - little fantasies during those long days on the road. Not knowing what to expect at the end, projecting memories of all three of you, curling up on the couch in front of the fire.

Unable to help glancing towards Joel, who is still giving you that look, his food still untouched. Seeming to not hear her question, leaving you to fend for yourself.

"Well, Maria and Tommy have a room set up for me already," You hedge, before you pull your eyes away to turn towards Ellie, "Think I'll probably be staying there."

She looks disappointed, nose wrinkling with confusion. Tommy is no help at all, leaning back in his chair, an arm slung across the back of his brothers.

"Well," Ellie picks at her food, nudging a piece of roll across her plate, "You gotta at least come and see it."

You smile.

"I'd really like that."

———

Ellie ditches you in the short space between the detached garage and the beige, two story house.

A sense of pride at showing you the plans for her own space - the first time she’d had one to call her own. Joel’s hand jammed in his jeans pocket as she explains it’s a still while off, still collecting the pieces.

But there was already a worn couch out there - a table scattered with graphite drawings. The old canvas bookbag that you recognize from the cabin, resting on its side as it’s contents spill out.

Drawn away by a girl and a boy her age when you get back outside - calling out to her as they pass by. Reminding her of a movie night that been planned.

A movie night.

The normalcy of it strikes you, as she looks to Joel before he’s nodding, and she’s running off.

His cupped-hand call after her that “he’ll come pick her up” as she waves a hand - still worrying, even in a place as safe as this.

The thought makes you smile, as he walks you to the door. A hand resting against the small of your back, like a gentleman, as the wooden porch creaks under your steps.

It feels like the way a date could have felt, a lifetime ago. Walking you home, that moment of nervous hovering just outside the front door, beneath the golden light.

You can’t help but feel nervous, now. A thrill at the touch of his hand, but Joel still hasn’t said much to you.

Not knowing where you stand, in this new world.

Suddenly desperate, to drag this moment out.

Once you step inside, there’s only so many rooms you can see before you’ll be back in the apartment down the street.

His hand jams in his pocket, searching for his keys.

“Joel,” You ask - his name feeling sweet on your tongue. Pulling a question to the surface that you’ve had for ages, saving it until you were alone, “Did they find a cure?”

He doesn’t look at you for a long second. Staring somewhere above your shoulder, before his gaze slowly drags to your face.

Where it tips up towards him, bathed in the bare bulb of porch light. His hand finds you then, like you had imagined. Like he had wanted to do, the second he had seen you from across the room.

Not wanting to believe that you really had come, until he had seen it himself.

You fold so easily. It feels like acceptance, as his head lowers. His eyes fix on yours - watching for any hint that things have changed in the time that has passed.

Seeing how your eyes flutter shut, the way your lips part for him. Waiting.

Distracting you terribly when his mouth finally presses to yours. A little hitch in your breath at the familiar warmth, the way it skitters down your spine to pool low in your belly.

Making you forget all about the question that he’s been dreading. That he hoped you had forgotten about.

That he hopes he’ll never have to answer.

The kiss awakens something in you - his body pressing against yours as your arms wrap around his neck. Fingers fumbling with the keys, managing to fit it into the lock just as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.

An arm loops around your waist as the door gives way behind you - legs moving with yours as he walks you backwards over the threshold.

Your fingers tugging eagerly at his shirt, his thumbing at the button of your jeans.

Never making it past the living room. The coffee scraping against the floor as his foot bumps it, as he spins you in front of him.

Dropping onto worn the sofa first, with its faded pale pattern. Eyes blown dark and burning as you stand breathless between his thighs. Kicking off your boots, shoving your jeans down your legs.

Strong hands that tug you onto his lap, soon after.

Finding each other again as his hips rock up into yours, letting you grind against the stiff denim. You’ve been apart longer than you’ve know him, but your body still remembers.

It feels novel to be somewhere so open like this - not tucked away behind a closed door, in a small room.

The flicker of pleasure in your belly igniting into a flame, as he peels off your sweatshirt. Leaving it to pool on the floor, as your fingers fist in the fabric of his flannel shirt.

“Joel.” You moan, against his neck, “I need-“

He groans, hips lifting when you reach for his belt. Knowing - feeling it too. Letting you drawn him out, flushed and heavy in your palm as your fingers wrap around his length.

Your clothed cunt rocking against his cock, where it curves up towards his belly. His own fingers wandering, slipping beneath the elastic of your underwear, sliding against slick, wet skin.

“Fuck, darlin’.” He grits out, finding your clit easily. Like he’s never forgotten, as his fingers circle like they used to.

It takes no time at all before you’re dripping. Aching with anticipation, with the time that has passed. Pleasure was never a priority after he left, and it feels like the weeks of denial have built to a breaking point.

So close to the cusp when you nudge his fingers aside to tug down your underwear. Wanting him inside you when you come, begging him for his cock as your words echo throughout the empty house.

A bitten back groan as he paws through a bag half-lying beneath the couch. His own from the cabin, finding a pocket and tugging out the foil packet inside. Rolling the latex over his length before his hands grip at your hips. Lifting you over his cock.

Letting you drop down.

Your groan is loud - his name a sharp, broken warble as he fills you. Aware enough through the haze of pleasure to slap a hand over your mouth, stifling the sound out of habit.

“None of that, now.” He husks, a hand wrapping around your wrist.

Tugging it down as his hips jerk up, pressing himself deeper into you. Dragging against your walls as another whimper comes.

“Just us, sweetheart.” Joel coaxes. Helping you set a rhythm as you begin to bounce on his cock, “Been waiting to hear how you sound.”

How you moan his name, when he fucks you. Not having to hold back as he tugs you down when you rise. The filthy slap of skin meeting skin, a hissed groan when your mouth meets his again.

Every single sound.

Feeling how you clench around him, the erratic flex of your hips beneath his hand. Fingers that drift down to pet at your clit, pulling back to run his nose along your throat.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.

Voice slow as smooth, just like you remember. Louder than he usually is, his encouragement no longer a muted whisper.

“Wanna hear you when you come for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” You pant - your movements turning into a messy grind now. “Oh my god, Joel. I’m so close-”

The old couch squeaks as he takes over, thrusting up into you, in time with his fingers. Again and again as the pressure builds and builds, the words falling from your lips soon twisting into a drawn-out cry.

“Christ, that’s my girl.”

You’re barely able to hear him over the pitch of your voice, sounding muted to your own ears as the pleasure crashes into you. Fingers pinching onto his shoulders so tightly that he grunts, grinding his cock deep so he can feel the tight pulse of your orgasm.

But the words echo, with each sharp exhale of your breath. Clinging to them and him, as he follows so soon after you - his head tipping back as he groans.

Just as desperate as you were, underneath it all. So much hope forged in the script of that letter. Days spent wondering if you’d even see it.

Burying it all down, like he always did.

Strong arms wrap tightly around you, as you come back down. As the words still repeat in your mind.

My girl. My girl. My girl.

———

The couch is a little narrow, even with your leg thrown over his hip. Eyes closed as you listen to the muted bustle outside, as you inhale the familiar scent you’re come to know so well.

Head tilting so you can hear his heart instead, thrumming loudly against your ear. A hand stroking down your back, slipping beneath the sweatshirt you tugged back on.

Unable to help the urge of touching bare skin.

His heart kicks up a beat. The briefest moment before there’s the low rumble of his voice.

“Ellie’s idea. It ain’t a bad one.”

It has you blinking - sleepy from pleasure. From the warm comfort that being wrapped in him brings.

“Wouldn’t be all that different than before. More room, even.”

A sudden jolt, as you realize what he’s asking. An alertness rushing through you as you push yourself up to peer down at him.

Eyes scanning his, to see if he’s serious. A tick in his jaw as his teeth clench, waiting for your answer. Hoping he doesn’t have to explain further - still not good with words.

Hoping that this is enough.

If he had still been buried in you when he had asked, you wouldn’t have thought he was serious. Drunk on pleasure, words flowing and distorted by fantasy.

But he wasn’t, now.

And this isn’t the first time he’s asked you to come with them. He has asked, and you had - traveling all these miles. Bringing yourself right here.

After all that - surely you could take one more step.

“Okay,” You tell him.

A smile curving your lips that you think just might match his, barely visible in the dim light of the room.

In your new home.

“I’ll stay.”

Okay, the end for real this time! 💖 thank you so much for reading this fic, I had so much fun writing and sharing it. Honestly feeling so honored that there was wondering if there was more, so really hope you liked this!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic

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trulybetty · 9 months

Text

Sunday Week In Review on a Monday

How is everyone doing? Did we make it through the last week? Those who got a long weekend I hope it was a good one! Yesterday was a clusterfuck and I had the mother of all naps - the type where you wake up and don't know where you are let alone what day of the week it is lol.

So here is Sunday's Week in Review, on a Monday edition! 💕

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings IV

Sequins

First Sentence Game

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

A Girl Walks Into a Bookstore (Ezra) by @oonajaeadira

While I’m still undecided if I truly enjoy Prospect, I absolutely do love a good Ezra fanfic and this one doesn’t disappoint. It started as a late-night read last Sunday when I was the only one awake and once I started I couldn’t stop. It also seems to have popped up for a lot of other readers as I’ve seen it all over my dash since. @oonajaeadira master list is a joy to go through on Sundays at the moment.

Until Now, Until You | Chapter 1 (Javier Peña) by @wildemaven

This was all the right levels of sexy and spicy and leaving you wanting more and I can’t wait to see how this plays out when the two run into one another again!

Leave off Your Wanderings (Joel Miller) by @oonajaeadira

This series is a total balm to my TLOU2 feels - this is the ending Joel deserved (and in my mind the official sequel to TLOU) and in the third instalment the autumn vibes are warm and cozy, and the build-up between Joel and Songbird is soft in all the right places. This whole series is a warm gentle hug and the writing is so good - definitely check this one out.

Hungry Hearts | Atlantic City (Joel Miller) by @atinylittlepain

I’m sad that this series is nearing its end, but that means I get to go back and read it again. Between flashbacks of young Joel with baby Sarah we’ve got Cherry and Joel reconciling in present day and never knew mini-vans could be so sexy, so check it out!

The Layover | Epilogue (Frankie Morales) by @goodwithcheese

This finale was bittersweet - it has been such a pleasure to follow this story, so much so that it was a highlight of my week. The story wraps up in a way that is perfect for reader x Frankie with them both on pace with one another. It’s done so perfectly that I read it more than once. I will be revisiting this story for sure.

Late Night Texts | Epilogue (Javier Peña) by @mvtthewmurdvck

Another fantastic story that came to a close this week *sigh*, this was just the perfect ending. This story is a delicious rom com romp and I know will hold up to multiple reads. I don’t want to give anything away if you’ve not read it, but it’s a delight.

The Window (Dave York) by @wildemaven

This was a delight to read and Heidi crafts a great story of longing from a distance that has a soft ending that is all enveloping and lends itself to multiple reads.

Bush Pilot (Frankie Morales) by @legendary-pink-dot

Oh boy, this one *fans self* this one was something else. Frankie taking you to see the sunrise but makes you see stars instead in the back of his truck. Oomph, all kinds of good spicy smut here that lends itself to a second read… or three ;)

sam and diane, eat your heart out (Marcus Pike) by @chronically-ghosted

I could easily be biased as this was written based on the prompts I sent Taylor - however, Taylor blew it out of the park with our boy Marcus! This was spicy in all the right places and honestly, I would love to see more of these two. This is a take on Marcus Pike x Reader that I haven’t seen before and it will be on my perma reread list that is for sure! Also, peep the Cheers reference, *squee*

IRL | Part 2 (Javi Gutierrez) by @grogusmum

I’ve had a hard time finding some good Javi G. fanfics, but this one here is so good in its characterization. The story of Javi meeting Reader for the first time since meeting online, is incredibly sweet and I had been waiting in anticipation for this second chapter since I finished the first. It’s also one of the few plus sized reader fanfics that nails it without going over the top and making the character a stereotype. I have this bookmarked to go back and re-read this week, because that ending has been living rent free in my head all week.

Private Dick (Tim Rockford) by @wardenparker

Speaking of plus size reader interpretations - this was one of the few that really resonated with me. I haven’t come across many Tim Rockford fanfics (if you have any others, please send them my way) - but this felt like a perfect interpretation - great at reading situations, until they’re too close to him, but he’s in a process of redeeming himself through his relationship with Reader.

Fics I’m Looking Forward to Reading…

My TBR List is still a work in progress, will share it when it’s done 💕

Light Me Up (Benny Miller) by @musings-of-a-rose

Thanks to Jess and Heidi I seem to be straying into Benny territory this week and have been recommended this story to dip my toe further in. I mean the opening premise alone is enough to have me excited to get stuck in!

Double Dealings (Javier Peña & Ezra) by @julesonrecord & @stardustandskycrystals

1920’s, New Orleans and the potential of two Pedro characters? I cannot wait to get stuck into this one this week over my morning coffee this week!

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

@shirks-all-responsibilities reminding me of my grumpy Joel (Pedro) header for the mobile layout of my blog. Now has me thinking about making a seasonal one now! September is Halloween Eve of course! 🎃

@wildemaven’s early morning thot post that just took on a life of it’s own 🥵

@rhool’s live blog of the pilot of the Pedro show that never was ‘The Sixth Gun’ entertained me while I had a tame evening watching something Mr. Truly wanted to watch while sipping on a non-alcoholic beer lol.

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

The long weekend - didn’t do anything, no one slept through the night, but there’s something satisfying waking up on a Monday and knowing you don’t have to work.

Saturday’s interactions and posts were a delight to go through and helped my Saturday working go by so much quicker and made for a more enjoyable day.

This Week’s Song…

This recommendation came from @gnpwdrnwhiskey who told me it was Dieter x Bryony coded and it totally is. I’ve listened to this on repeat and I’m dying to revisit these two again, and have something up my sleeve 🎃

Hope everyone has a great week this week and Monday is treating you well! 💕 xx

#betty's sunday in review #Spotify

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minustwofingers · 4 months

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is there anything YOU are most excited to write about in the epilogue? finishing a story is such an amazing and bittersweet accomplishment! are there any scenes/details you wanted to write/include that didn’t make the final cut? any personal headcanons you have, additional terranova lore? don’t feel like you have to answer all this btw 😭 just anything you wanna include <3 thanks for readinggg

this is SO sweet lmg. i’m just excited to write ellie as someone who’s like. happy and healing after all i put them through lmaoooooo.

and omg i am SO glad u asked bc i actually have a lot to say about this bc i ended up cutting out a lot…

for scenes that aren’t making the cut:

- originally i already had whole epilogue planned out that involved ellie and y/n going back to terranova for a supply run which had the following scenes:

ellie looking through a real telescope at some stars for the first time

y/n showing ellie where she used to live

i also had a scene planned in the final part that never happened including the lab/all the evidence of ellie’s planet burning down right before y/n and dina leave, but i ended up scrapping it !

lore/headcanons/things

ellie is a loser lesbian bottom sorry everyone! i won’t be writing the smut to back this up but u have to trust me that it’s canon on this one

y/n had acrylics when she came to jackson (this one is something that an anon picked up on that i thought was very funny)

terranova would’ve killed ellie if they had known she was immune. if tlou1 had ended with ellie dying and the fireflies successfully engineering a vaccine/cure (i have feelings about whether or not this would actually be possible but i’ll save that for another day), they would’ve done everything to stop distribution once they caught wind of it. i was originally going to have ellie tell her that she was immune at the scene where terranova picks her up, but then i realized that a country that depends on the desperation of people outside of its borders would never want that

speaking of that scene: a close reader may recall what colors the terranova flag were… (this was intentional but also before i knew about the inspo behind tlou2/neil so ironic ig!)

#dee overshares #ellie williams x reader #exoplanet

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vvynia · 7 months

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ya’ll.

so i’m diving in deep with the tlou and tlou2 plot because, as we’ve established, i’ve never actually played the game. i’ve just been obsessed with ellie and abby for the past half a year.

so i’m reading, right? watching is more the term. this stuff is insane. this storyline is top tier. i’m in shambles. this is heartwrenching. and i HATE open endings so the epilogue screwed me all up. and ellie’s fingers are GONE 😭 GONE she can’t even play the guitar fr no more

i can’t take this. and when joel said, “if the lord gave me a second chance at that moment, i would do it all over again” I FELT THAT. i’m no mother, but i have a little brother and i would go to the ends of the earth for him. it scares me sometimes honestly. even when he gets on my nerves, i’d flip the world upside down to make sure he’s safe.

it makes me wonder if ellie finally understood what joel meant when she lived on the farm with jj and dina? when she pretty much had a kid of her own? that unwavering instinct to love and protect, especially when your baby is innocent—when they can do no wrong. did she finally understand why he did it?

lord have mercy. i gotta get a big sunday hat and start fanning myself. the old southern lady bout ready to come outta me. i need some sweet tea.

(and this ain’t even half of what i wanna say about how the trauma that everyone in this series has gone through. also ain gone lie, i started getting pissed off at abby 😭 started screaming at my phone “this who yall LIKE???” knowing full and well her side of the story is depthy too :( ughhhh my babies)

#this is literally research for wlw fanfiction that’s the killin part LOOOL #going deeper makes me really see from a storytelling standpoint how great tlou is too tho #im so genuinly intrigued #tlou #tlou 2 #ellie x reader #abby x reader #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader

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happysparklingshadows · 10 months

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Time May Change Me

Epilogue ❀ Chapter 1

Summary: The first time Lola came to Jackson and found her home. The first time in seven months she had found genuine safety and kindness in the world that she thought had long been kill off. It’s the beginning of a whole new life and that becomes overwhelming for the stranded 13 year old girl.

Warnings: General Last of Us canon violence, Mentions of past abuse/assault, depiction of mental distress and mental illness, and general story building. OC character but is vaguely described outside of her hair being washed and later braided.

Word Count: 2.7k

Note: This story will be set before the canon events of tlou2 and the story of the game. I have aged Ellie up in her Jackson!era to be 18 years old. I want this to be for every reader in the fandom so I will be open for edits of my story is not diverse for everyone. I am a Jewish woman with thin curly black hair, so it I say something that I think is a universal with hair and it isn’t, please let me know! I imaged the TV Show versions of Maria, Tommy, and Joel, but Ellie is still Ashley Joshson!Ellie. This will be a multipart series and I hope you will be here with me as Lola and Ellie’s relationship develops. @jinxtheplanet

“Please tell me what happened to you,” Maria asked, her arms crossed and eyes soft with patience. She stood firm and stern, but her eyes were the kindest thing I have felt in a long time.

My lips quiver, and my eyes look at anything but her. Hands were desperately holding onto the other to keep the shakes becoming uncontrollable.

Maria looks at me, and I know what she sees. She sees a dirty little girl with matted hair and the smell of a corpse on me. My shirt once was light pink with bears and colorful words, a care bears shirt my mom gave me on my 12th birthday. It was the last gift I was given from my mother. I remember her weak and shaking hands when she handed me the folded shirt. The shirt was caked with mud, blood, and sweat from the months I’d traveled. Everything about me looked as I felt. Dirty, scared, and alone.

“Where are your parents? Were you in a group?” Maria asked again, softer. She stepped one step closer; I pushed myself closer to the back of the wooden chair.

“N-no, ma'am,” I whispered back at her and felt myself grow even smaller under her eyes. My voice is brittle and meek, and my hands hold even tighter.

“Okay, Honey…” She spoke, stepping closer again with her hand out, saying she wouldn’t hurt me. “How about where you are from? Can you tell me that?”

“I am from the Kansas City QZ. My dad was from Detroit, and my m-mom was from there.” I spoke. I had said this line more times than I could remember. I remember the times I talked to the other kids in the military school about my parents and the times I would cheerfully speak about myself without a care. It felt like a hundred years had gone by since the last time I was safe in the QZ with my parents.

A resounding painful ping rings in my chest when I remember my parents.

“That’s a long way away from Jackson.” She chuckled. And she continued her watchful eye on me as she kneeled in front of me, forcing me to look into her face. She had a look of sympathy and disbelief. “Were you alone?”

My eyes start to well as I look at her kind face. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

She closed her eyes slowly at the confession with a sad sigh. Maria felt the pain that was crusted on my face, and she then smiled at me. “Well, you’re not alone now, okay, sweetheart? You are safe in Jackson.” She reassured me, and she placed her hand on my knee. Touching the blood-caked pants and not caring for the filth. “Let’s get you some food and some new clothes.”

My eyes widen, and I shake my head. “It’s okay.” I gasped as I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes, “I don’t need anything, I would like a knife, and I will get out of everyone’s hair.”

“Sweetheart, I will not do that. You are welcome here now.” She said with an even wider smile. What I said was a standard line she had heard many times over. “Listen, we have kids your age here and animals and gardens, and we are more than willing to house you and keep you safe. You understand what I am saying. You don’t have to fight anymore….” She explained, but she stopped.

I felt my hands calm down, but my chin started to shake. I felt a tear fall on my left cheek and another on the right, falling without consent or permission. I felt my body shake to stop myself, but I couldn’t stop.

“Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you better.” She whispered as she put her hands on my upper arms. My body shivers at the contact, and a sob escapes from me.

“It’s okay; what is your name? We never got your name.” She said, holding onto me as I leaned into her touch. The ebony woman with braids lost all the sternness in her as she looked at the young girl in front of her.

I tried to say my name, but my voice wouldn’t let me. My tears choked me, and I couldn’t stop the cries. I bawled to her, “L-Lola.”

“Well, Lola, this is my home, and I would like you to stay here if you wouldn’t mind?” Maria asked with a honey quality to it. “I have an extra bedroom and wouldn’t mind your company.”

A sob fought out of my mouth and made every cry I held onto for the last seven mouths spill to Maria. Maria then slowly moved her arms around me and hugged me, and I desperately hugged her back as the pain I caged inside of myself finally broke loose. She holds me close and places a hand on the back of my head.

“Please-Please don’t hurt me.” I cried into her shoulder.

“I will try not to, Lola. Let it out, honey, let it out. It must have been terrifying to be out there all alone.” She comforted me as her hands caressed my matted hair. The violent sobs didn’t stop throughout the afternoon.

Early in the morning, I had finally started moving through forested Wyoming, trying to get to the next empty building to rest my tired feet. My backpack was lighter than usual; no gun or knife was inside, and only held a few things. My Walkman, my cassettes, an old ChapStick, matches, a journal, and a bag of dried beans I stole out of an old gas station. My mission was slowly becoming more and more of a dream for me. The words of my father haunt my every step.

Lola, you need to keep going. Keep going until you find a home. Never stop moving until you find it, and never let go. Go West.

Home. The idea was cruel to me now. My feet slide when I walk on the wet, melting snow, and my eyes look around the field before I leave the tree line.

My eyes glued onto the other side of the clearing, my head muffled by my father’s words. I hardly even feel the impact of my loneliness if I keep moving.

Suddenly, from behind me, the sound of horses racing towards me. I started sprinting away, not needing to look back as fast as my body could let me. But because I haven’t eaten in 4 days, my muscles quickly succumb to the fatigue. I trip onto the grass and feel a calm panic come over me.

I had nothing to protect myself, and I had nowhere to run. There was nothing I could do but just let whatever was going to happen happen. I look back to find five men on horses, cowboy hats and bandana-covered faces, and guns strapped to their hips with a dog on a leash beside them.

“Stop! What are you doing here?” One of the men shouted at me. I started to shake, my hands had the talent to shudder whenever I heard people lately, and my lips began to move, but nothing came out.

“Miss, I will ask again, what are you doing here?” He asked again, with a louder tone to it this time. The dog barked and tried to get loose from the leash. I am going to die.

“I-I I am trying-“ I start saying, but the words don’t come out right. I took a deep breath in. Become the strong one, the voice in my head whispered to me. I look back at the man and say, “I am trying to find somewhere to rest for the night. I don’t have any weapons, and I have no interest in you all. I am trying to go west. Please leave me pa-“

“Why are you going west?” Another man interrupted me. I look closer at their faces; they all look slightly taken back from me. Why?

“I-My dad told me to go west before-“ I cut myself off. I looked at all the men individually; they all looked like they were trying to hear me. They didn’t seem like they wanted to harm me, which made me even more scared. “I am just going west.”

The man with the dog let the dog go, and I shrieked and tried to step away from the animal slowly. The dog walks up to me and sniffs the air around me, and the German shepherd comes to my leg and sniffs me. He simply sits before me and looks up with eyes pleading to be petted, and I don’t move my hand.

“Miss, would you like us to take you to our town?” The first man said as he took off his mask. “We have a settlement three miles from here and take in refugees. Do you have anyone with you?”

I panic, and my hands shake when I look up from the dog. The words scared me, and the men terrified me. But towns of people are even scarier.

“I don’t know you,” I said in the sternest voice I could muster. “You don’t know me.”

“All I need to know has already been answered, young lady. You’re not infected, and you are alone. What are you, 16?”

I step away one step. Men talking about my age has never been a good thing. Men I have met throughout my time alone have been nothing short of disgusting and scary. The kind of men to think I couldn’t possibly be a beast just like them. Men loved young girls, and they loved to hurt them. I always was told that and believed it sincerely. Every single time, a man mistook my age, and my loneliness as a weakness always ended up dead. Men who would call me a little girl never saw the knife in my hand.

“What’s it to you?” I say back with some darkness leaking out. “I am 13 and don’t need your help, sir.”

The man chuckled at my comment. “I am sure you don’t need it, but you need to come with us. We will feed you and let you go off on your journey if you want. You look like you need to come with us.”

“I don’t know you.”

“Okay, we know that, but do you have anywhere else to be?” Another man said and took his hat off. “Take a leap of faith here, and you will be okay. I promise you.”

So, I did, and I took a leap of faith and got on the back of one of their horses.

Maria’s hands massage my scalp as the kitchen sinks water my hair. Though Maria doesn't tell me that, dirt, blood, and small bugs fall out of my hair, and she just keeps washing my hair with tender fingers.

“You held your own with our men.” She commented to me. She smiled down at me and saw the empty look on my face after I stopped crying.

“I tried to,” I replied. “I was scared, though, and I didn’t have anything on me.”

“If you did have something on you, what would you have done?” She smirked and looked at me. It feels like she already knows me.

“I would have tried to get away,” I told her. I smile at her, longing for her never to stop touching my hair. “But if I had any, I wouldn’t have been here, and I am starting to think it was meant to happen.”

“Maybe it was,” She smiled and continued to rinse my hair; she brought out a small-toothed comb, “What happened to your weapons?” She asked.

“I was with some people… And they took my things, and they left me.” I said and felt myself distance myself from my surrounding again. I pushed myself away from this, from reality. I hated to feel alone, and I hated what being alone meant for me. But being seen for me was too much for me, to have people know and see how I am… It was better inside my head. It feels better this way. “They were a father, mother, and a son. He was little. I am not even mad at them. I just wish they didn’t leave me alone.”

“I am sure it was better that they left you alone. They sound like bad people to leave a young girl alone in this world.”

“I am not that young. I am 13.” I sassed back to the woman. I hated being treated like I couldn’t handle myself, probably because I knew I could care for myself and know what I have done to protect myself, what I have done to grow so much darkness.

“Oh, okay then.” She sassed back, slightly taken aback by my tone. She took a bar of shampoo and started lathering an old rag. “That’s why you didn’t have any weapons?”

“Yeah, you let go of the small stuff, you know.” I sighed as she started to rub the rag on my head. The feeling of comfort started to overwhelm me. “I would have found something to protect myself again, but I didn’t find anything before your guys found me.”

“That’s because we have taken everything like that around here.” She commented as she rubbed harder on my head, trying to break up the small locks of hair that matted together at the back of my head. “If you don’t mind me asking again, what happened to your parents.”

“What happens to everyone’s parents.” I sighed back at her. “My mom died in the QZ, and we don’t know how she died. The doctor said it was skin cancer, but we don’t know why. She just-“ I took a deep breath before continuing, “She just withered away. The QZ had a lot of food shortages, and there was no medicine for us to give her. My dad tried to get some pain pills, but she died anyway. Me and my dad left after she died.” I mumbled. “Anyways, he got bit a few weeks into our journey west. He ran away from me, and I am guessing he killed himself or that he is out there infected… I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.”

Maria was quiet as she washed my hair. She had nothing to say and didn’t want to push me to go on. She just washed my hair as best she could, and she dried my hair with the fluffy towel that rested on my shoulders. She gently pulled me out of the chair and placed me at her dining room table. She grabbed scissors and cut the parts she couldn’t save in the wash.

Maria cleared her throat and combed through my hair, removing the ends. “I had a son before this all started. Kevin. He was only three when the world fell apart, and he died like everyone else,” She said, her voice calm and soft. I heard the small tone of sadness inside her words, “I was alone for a long time after that. I didn’t want to be near anyone and couldn’t let go of my anger. But then, I started to let people in. The more people I let in, the more the pain of my loss healed. I don’t think I will ever be over Kevin, but I don’t cry when I remember him. I smile. It’s hard being on your own, sweetheart. I know you will find your peace, too, okay.” She said. Her speech to me was almost calm and something I didn’t need to discuss. I didn’t say anything back as her scissors continued to cut.

“Okay, I want you to take another shower upstairs after I am done with your hair. I will get you some clothes.” She said softly.

“Maria…” I say as I look at my hands again. My hands were covered in minor cuts, my cuticles were broken and raw, and my skin cracked and irritated from the cold winter I traveled. “You are very kind. Thank you.” I whisper the last part.

Maria smiled at me, brushed the hair off my shoulders, and finished her cut. “Make yourself at home.”

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