#And some of things she does you says (especially to Joel) are thing I would do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

motherjoel · 1 year

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arms tonite (joel miller/reader)

summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.

In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.

The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.

“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room.

“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night.

“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.

“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch.

“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.

“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.

The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base.

“What the fu-” you started.

“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.

“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice

“Look at them go!” you giggled.

“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you.

“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going.

You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about.

“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.

“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.

“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.

“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.

“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.

“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.

“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in.

“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.

“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels.

“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.

“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.

“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen.

“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.

“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.

“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?

“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.

“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.

“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.

“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”

“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?

“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision.

You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”

“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now.

“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.

“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.

You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.

You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good.

You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak.

“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”

“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.

“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.

Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.

“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.

You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.

“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart.

“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.

“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”

“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.

“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.

“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.

“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.

“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.

“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.

“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.

“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.

“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.

“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.

“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.

“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.

“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.

He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.

“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“That little shit,” he sighed.

“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.

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joelslastofus · 4 months

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[SUMMARY: Joel becomes insecure with his age difference and breaks up with you rudely, only to find out you become depressed after an assault.]

TRIGGER WARNING: SA

“Look, who cares? Hey, maybe if I wasn’t sucha immature party girl that would’ve never happened to me” you turned looking at him straight in the eyes.

“Don’t you say that” he whispered feeling regret with what he had told you that day.

smut, angst, big age gap

It was the end of your shift as you waited for Joel to pick you up. The restaurant seemed to slow down at the perfect time for you to catch a movie with him. Joking with two of your coworkers you had no idea Joel was watching from outside the window. Once again Sammy was having a party and desperately wanted you to attend although you promised Joel something simple that night. Just as you gently let her down, Joel approached you leaning in for a kiss.

“Hi babe,” you smiled up at him.

“Joel, can you please convince your girlfriend to come to my party tonight?”

“Don’t listen to her, I already told her we had plans.” You explained.

“Another party huh?” He raised his brows as Sammy tried to hold back a laugh.

“Sorry Joel, are we partying too much for you?” Sammy joked with her boyfriend Josh making you playfully hit her shoulder.

“Ouch! just a joke, see you guys around” she laughed as Joel took your hand and walked out with you.

“Sorry about that, Sammy can be-“

“Annoying” he interjected making you raise a brow at him.

“Does she ever not throw a party?” He looked down at you as you both continued to walk. Joel was acting strange, he seemed to be more agitated than usual but you didn’t say a word about it.

“We don’t have to go-“

“But I know you want to” he looked over at you to confirm what he figured to be true.

“No” you stopped in your tracks turning to him.

“I can go any other time, I just want us to spend time” you assured him before tip toeing and kissing his lips.

The two of you had been dating a few months now, although you were in college and Joel was much older, you felt you had a balanced relationship.

Joel thought the same…until recently.

Little by little he noticed your friends were constantly inviting you to parties, or even if they weren’t partying whenever they had a conversation with you in front of him he felt out of place. The two of you alone was a different story, you could both talk for hours about so many different things. Sharing the same interests in movies, he loved taking you out to see one or having a movie night at your place. More than anything he loved how towards the end of the movie you always ended up straddling him holding him close. He’d carry you to the bed, your lips locked together as a night of intense sex would begin. Regardless of how experienced he was, sex with you was like no other. Although you were younger you loved taking charge and riding him and he loved your confidence. He loved watching the way you moved your hips on him, especially in that moment. His hands squeezed your thighs as he looked down watching you drip all over his cock. Throwing his head back you could see the vein in his neck popping out, you could always tell when he was about to cum.

“Shit” he cried out, sweat dripping down his head as as you rode him faster. Your hands leaning on his chest for support until you both came simultaneously. You moaned before throwing yourself back beside him, he could barely catch his breath.

“You’re really something else you know that?” He panted closing his eyes for a moment.

“Am I?” You laughed leaning over to kiss him before running off to the bathroom.

Once you walked out you noticed him sitting at the edge of the bed hunched over with just his pants on.

“You ok?” You asked tying your robe around you.

“Yeah, just wiped me out” he chuckled as he stood up and grabbed his t shirt.

“I’m sorry” you laughed.

“Don’t be.” He winked at you but you could see something still seemed off with him. For some reason he just couldn’t shake off the feeling of not keeping up with you. He silently walked out of the room to grab a cup of water but the silence didn’t feel right.

Joel stood in the kitchen drinking the glass of water, his thoughts roaming all over.

“Joel?” You followed him to the kitchen looking at him strangely.

“What’s going on with you?”

Placing the cup down he crossed his arms not really knowing how to say what he truly wanted to say. You hated how stubborn he could be at times to speak. He knew whatever he’d tell you, somehow you’d find a way to work around it, and as much as he didn’t want to break up, he was beginning to think it was the best decision. It was better than him constantly feeling like he couldn’t keep up with you.

“Joel are you going to talk or what-“

“This is a mistake” he blurt out looking down.

“What? What are you talking about?” You walked towards him completely caught off guard.

“This, us, it should’ve…should’ve never happened” his words feeling like a punch to your heart.

“Joel, where is this coming from? Don’t take personal what Sammy said”

“This isn’t about your friend dammit,“ he responded rudely. Maybe that was the only way you’d get it.

“So what is this about? Cause about twenty minutes ago you didn’t seem to have a problem with me” You clearly started to get annoyed with his tone but he couldn’t explain to you what he was really feeling. Irritated he grabbed his jacket heading for the door.

“So you’re walking off now? Just like that” you followed him.

“Go have fun with your friends tonight,”

“This is about the party?! Are you kidding me, I already told you I didn’t wanna go-“

“Look” he suddenly stopped and turned to your face.

“You don’t get it, you’re a damn kid. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Go be the party girl you are” before you could say a thing he walked out slamming the door shut.

“Joel!”

What the hell just happened?

Joel hopped in his truck fighting himself not to turn back. The sound of your voice calling out for him crushed him in a way he didn’t know he could feel. He wasn’t planning to do this, he didn’t think he would. Joel felt something special with you, but before he felt it would fall apart cause of his age, he decided to cut it now unexpectedly.

That night you cried calling your friend Sammy to pick you up. You couldn’t believe Joel had really broken up with you but you decided to hell with it.

The second you got to Sammy’s party you poured yourself drink after drink just wanting to forget about him. You found yourself dancing with a man, never even getting his name but you noticed how touchy he became as you danced.

“Watch it, honey” you squinted your eyes at him with a smirk as he stepped back lifting his hands up.

“Sorry gorgeous” he leaned towards your ear to speak.

He was a handsome man with a nice smile, and when he wasn’t grabbing your ass he knew how to dance. For a short moment you found yourself not thinking of Joel.

As the night continued, you had a few more drinks than what your body was used to. Sammy and Josh both cheering you on watching you have fun as you continued to dance.

“I gotta use the ladies room!” You yelled in his ear as he nodded. The man watched as you slightly stumbled up the stairs, fumbling with the doorknob to get in the bathroom, he could tell how wasted you were.

Once you were finished you almost fell opening the bathroom door to find that same man at the door.

“Oh hey” you grinned until he grabbed you by your waist, abruptly kissing your neck pushing you back in the bathroom.

“Wait-“ you attempted to laugh it off trying to push him away until you realized he shut the door behind him.

“Come on, let’s have some fun”

“Hey…I…I don’t wanna do this” you tried once again pushing him back but he grabbed you hard lifting you up and sitting you right on the sink. His hand making it’s way under your dress, you knew exactly what he was doing and panic set in.

The loud music blasting throughout the house distracting everyone from anything that could be going wrong. Sammy at one point looking around for you and even calling your phone.

“She never leaves like that” Sammy told Josh as she looked through the crowd.

“Maybe she’s having fun with that guy” Josh laughed but Sammy thought something was weird. You would never leave with a man or at all without saying something to her. As Sammy checked the kitchen the man had finished his assault, walking out the bathroom Josh caught him buckling his pants.

“Hey, where’s the girl you were dancing with?” Josh asked him but he didn’t say a word quickly walking out the front door.

Sitting on the corner of the bathroom floor, you couldn’t move. You could hear Josh and Sammy calling for you until Josh finally walked in the bathroom.

“Holy Shit- Sammy she’s in here!” The two of them rushing to your side, fixing your dress asking if you were ok but you couldn’t speak.

“I’m gonna call the police” Sam knew what happened, it was obvious but you quickly looked at her and shook your head with whatever strength you had.

“No. No one. Just…just drive me home please” you whispered. Sammy nodded in silence quickly ending the party to make sure you were ok. Although she had offered for you to stay, being near where you were assaulted made your stomach turn.

Joel stood at home that night watching a movie not being able to get you off his mind. He wondered what you were doing, he wondered if you ever went to that party but most of all he wondered if he made the right call.

Josh and Sammy silently helped you to the car and drove you home. Offering to stay with you, you refused any company, you refused anything they tried to help with. Although you both were broken up, Sammy wondered if she should find Joel and let him know what had happened yet she knew nothing of him.

The next day you stayed in bed, your phone buzzing through out the morning, calls from Sammy, Josh and you noticed one call from Joel. Ignoring each call you turned over in bed covering yourself just wanting to disappear from everyone.

A few days turned into weeks and no one had heard from you. Joel would still call, sometimes leaving you a voicemail, but hearing his voice would only make you burst into tears.

One day Joel finally decided to walk into the restaurant you worked at hoping to find you, instead he found Sammy.

“Joel, am I relieved to see you” she sighed as he walked up to her. She knew she had to tell him.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of her and she’s not answering. She quit working here, she stopped showing up to class and she’s just blocked us all out” Joel furrowed his brows.

“What do you mean she stopped showing up to class?” He knew how important this semester at college was for you.

“She just disappeared ever since that night”

“What night?”

“The night..the night at my party” she explained looking away nervously.

“What happened at your party? The hell you goin’ on about Sammy?” Joel heavily invested now not sure what to expect.

She swallowed nervously not sure how Joel would react to such news about you or more so how angry you would be at her for saying anything to him.

“The night at my party…um..I don’t even know how to say it” Sammy whispered as she scratched her forehead uncomfortably.

“Spit it out” Joel demanded now concerned with what the hell it could be.

“Joel, she was raped” she finally blurt out. Joel felt like a brick hit him in the chest, taking a step back he looked at her in shock. His lips tightening up, he took a deep trembling breath looking away. Sammy didn’t know him so well but she could see anger taking over him.

“I wanted to call you but I had no idea where to get in contact with you and-“

“Who did it?” He looked directly at her, speaking in a rough whisper making Sammy nervous.

“Joel, good to see you” Sams boyfriend Josh appeared before unexpectedly being grabbed by his collar, Joel roughly slammed him against the wall.

“Who touched her?! Who did it?”

“Hey man I don’t know, we never seen him before I swear-“

“What do you mean you never seen him before? It was your party!” He yelled.

“Joel! This doesn’t help anything, you wanna help? Go check on her!” Sammy yelled snapping Joel out of it. Slowly he released Josh as he took a step back.

He knew Sammy was right, the thought of you hurt in any way and not seeking help he couldn’t take.

The thought of him not being there he couldn’t take.

After weeks of not leaving the house you woke up that morning looking out the window, you could see the sun pushing through the clouds slowly. With a sigh you got yourself up and freshened yourself up for a walk around the block.

How bad could that be?

Opening up your front door you felt your heart begin to race but you pushed yourself out.

Walking around the corner you found yourself looking back more than you’d like to admit until you accidentally walked straight into someone.

“Shoot, I’m sorry” you looked up and realized it was Joel. Instantly noticing a look of pity in his deep brown eyes your expression changed.

You realized he knew.

“Shit, she told you” you turned away with a look of disgust walking back to your house.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asked keeping up close behind you.

“For what?” You scoffed.

“You should’ve called me” he continued as you shook your head.

“Oh give me a break. We are no longer together, I was a mistake remember?” You called out back to him until he grabbed you by your arm forcing you to turn to him.

“I should’ve been there for you” his eyes were intense as he spoke.

“I would’ve been there” you didn’t say a word looking at him, his hand still tight around your wrist.

“It doesn’t matter” you pulled your arm away before heading to your door.

Of course it mattered.

You would’ve given anything to have Joel by your side that night. Tears welling up in your eyes as you placed your key in the lock trying to hold yourself together but you knew you couldn’t. The feel of Joel close behind you made you fall apart in that very second. Your hand dropping from the door you began to cry. Quickly covering your face you felt Joel gently hold you from behind.

“I’m here now” he whispered against your ear. Unexpectedly you turned to him wrapping your arms around him tightly as he tightened his arms around you. For just one moment you wanted to feel at ease.

“I’m here, baby” your cries slowed down as you took a deep breath, his hands gently tilting your face up to him.

“And for the record, you’re no damn mistake” he wiped away your tears with his thumb. You smiled at him just happy to have him close and invited him inside.

Joel quietly followed you in watching as you made your way to the kitchen, you knew there was bound to be more questions he would ask although you hoped he wouldn’t.

“Do you want something to drink or snack on? I don’t have much to eat, haven’t cooked. Just been ordering out lately” you explained without turning back to him.

“No, no thank you, baby” he leaned back on the counter watching as you grabbed something from the fridge. Truthfully Joel wanted to ask you more about that night. After a moment of silence his sudden question caught you off guard.

“What was his name?”

You closed the fridge and looked down taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know”

“Don’t protect him-“

“I don’t know” you turned to him abruptly.

“He was just some stupid guy I was dancing with, I never got his name, I don’t know anything about him” you walked away heading to your bedroom.

“I called you that night” he called out to you from down the hall, you could hear his footsteps getting closer.

“You also broke up with me that night-“

“It’s not something I wanted to do” he insisted.

“Look, who cares? Hey, maybe if I wasn’t sucha immature party girl that would’ve never happened to me” you turned looking at him straight in the eyes.

“Don’t you say that” he whispered feeling regret with what he had told you that day.

“Well, I was drinking” you shrugged with a sarcastic laugh, you didn’t notice his expression change.

“And so that gives that piece of shit the right to rape you?!” He raised his voice unexpectedly loud, you froze looking away.

“I’m sorry” he quickly apologized moving closer to you.

“Don’t be…that’s just the first time I’ve heard anyone call what happened to me..that.” The two of you stood silent for a moment until he slowly reached out for your hand.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, baby.” He pulled you close to him.

“I should’ve never walked out of here that day, I should’ve listened to myself and turned back. Leaving all because of my own damn insecurity” you could hear the regret in his voice.

“Insecurity?” You looked at him confused.

“Long story, c’mere-“ he wrapped your arms around his neck just wanting to hold you close and honestly, it was all you wanted to.

Joel felt you relax in his arms, slowly moving to the bed you both lay down with your head on his chest, you found yourself closing your eyes. Joel brushed his fingers through your hair softly as he looked down and saw you were asleep. As happy as he was to have you relaxed beside him, he couldn’t get out of his head wanting to find whoever this man was. Joel was set in his mind that he would, even if it meant keeping it from you.

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fan fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x y/n

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joelscruff · 1 year

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for what it's worth (joel miller x reader) 18+

part 3 of the soft!dom joel collection has arrived! this one tackles some backstory; it's time to see how they met and how exactly their little "arrangement" came to be. i hope you guys like it, your feedback means the world to me. i also have a kofi if you'd like to give me a tip (but of course this is completely optional). previous parts: you know i don't mean it & don't think we could help it summary: your relationship with joel has always been complicated, but it's about to change drastically, for better or for worse. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: fem!reader, smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), mentions of porn (specifically magazines) word count: 10k (it's a doozy) | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major but i figured i should warn for it anyway.

To say that your first day in Jackson is alienating would be an understatement.

You feel like everyone is staring at you (they are) and no one will let you out of their sight (they won't). You understand immediately that there's a lack of trust which will need to be formed as soon as possible, otherwise you'll never be able to create a home here.

"They're wary of you," Maria explains in your brand new living room - you still can't believe you just went from having barely any possessions to having your own house - and gives you a weak smile, "It'll pass, they just need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives."

You get it, but it still hurts. Especially that night when you join your new community for dinner and find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the room, poking at your food and trying not to let your emotions betray you. You're determined not to show weakness, even though you've never felt more isolated. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, like they're waiting for you to pull out a rifle and start picking them off like a shooting gallery.

There's only one person who seems to be consistently minding his own business, a middle aged man who sits in the opposite corner of the room. He's hulking and broad, kind of intimidating, but there's a softness to his jaw and the grey scruff covering it that makes you see something else, something kind. He takes large bites and seems lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall to his left but unfocused, like he's looking through it. He's by himself too, mirroring you, but you can tell by the way people move around him that he's been here for a long time. He must just enjoy his solitude.

"That's Joel," Maria tells you, sitting next to you and following your gaze, "He's my husband's brother, came down here a few years ago."

"He doesn't stare at me like everyone else does," you say, still looking over at him, "Does he just not care or...?"

To your surprise, she laughs, and everyone who's giving you dirty looks suddenly seems to soften. You're grateful for Maria then for bothering to talk to you, to try and trust you.

"Don't ask me to explain the things Joel does, I wouldn't be able to tell you," you notice that she has a full plate of food with her and that she's decided to sit next to you for dinner, an attempt to alleviate the mistrust for you in the room. You can't help but smile, thankful.

"He's a closed book," she continues, "Even Tommy finds him hard to read and he's his own brother."

She changes the subject then, wanting to know more about you and what you've been through, a not so subtle way of trying to get some information for the council. You humor her; you have nothing to lose.

Your eyes still stray to the man named Joel every so often as you speak, but you're not sure why. After about ten minutes he gets up to leave, and you watch him place his empty bowl in the dishwashing area and give the woman working there a small smile. She smiles back, says something to him. He laughs, and you can almost hear it over the bustle of the dining area. You watch as he says something else to her in parting, gives her one more smile, and turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look at you, not even once.

Over the next few weeks, things get better. Less people are looking at you and more people are actually trying to talk to you, get to know you. You have some nice conversations and answer questions about yourself - mostly appropriate, save for the one teenager who kept asking how you got the different scars along your bicep, the long one on your neck, the one on your cheek, stories you really didn't want to recount. After hounding you for a few minutes, her friend had pulled her away with an apology, "She likes scars," she'd said sheepishly, tugging the girl's arm, "Come on, Ellie, leave her alone."

You meet everybody, shake hands and even hug a few people. You start getting invited to things, asked to suggest films for movie night, help set up some games for the kids, Tommy even asks you one evening to help him herd a few sheep that had gotten loose. They trust you, and it feels good.

You still see that man, Joel, every night in the dining hall. But that's the only place you see him. You're not sure where he goes during the day or after dinner; he must just be a bit of a recluse, which you can't blame him for. The people here are nice but a lot are overbearing and a bit too friendly sometimes, plus it's hard to find time for yourself when everyone has tasks to complete and always likes to help each other out. You begin to wonder if he'll ever notice you, which leads you to wonder why it even matters to you that he does.

Your patrols start around the three month mark. Tommy takes you out with a small group beyond the borders of the community and shows you the ropes, points out where most of the patrol spots are with a pair of binoculars and goes over the routine. Your first assignment is simple: manning the watchtower with Maria. You spend most of the patrol getting to know her, hearing about her past and telling her more about yours. You like her a lot, she's easy to talk to and has a strong spirit akin to your own. The conversation gets pretty personal around the seventh hour, and you end up telling her how exactly you got the scar along your cheekbone. She listens deeply, thoughtfully, nodding along as you detail the more difficult things you've had to deal with in the past, the things that have made you stronger.

"You're tough," she says near the end of your shift, nudging your shoulder, "You don't really belong on watchtower, do you?"

You shrug, "I mean, if there's somewhere else I'd be more useful..."

"How'd you like to head out to the ski lodge with Joel next week?"

Your ears prick up at the name and you nod quickly, unsure exactly why, "Yeah, that'd be great!"

"He knows the area well," she adds, then grimaces, "I have to warn you though, he might not talk very much. He keeps to himself, I'm sure you've noticed."

You wonder why she's so quick to put you on patrol with someone who might not even speak to you, but it starts to make sense as you're walking back from the watchtower in the early hours of the morning. Tommy exits the dining hall and walks over to the both of you with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to Maria's cheek.

"How's my girl?" he asks flirtatiously, and she bats him away playfully.

"Was just telling the new recruit that she's gonna go on patrol with Joel next week," she replies, and Tommy stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow.

"Her? With Joel?" he appraises you and bites his lip, "I don't know, honey, wouldn't she be better off with someone who'll actually talk to her? I thought she was on watchtower with you."

"Tommy, I never see you anymore," she gives him an exasperated look, "The weekends used to be for us and ever since the Kingstons left-"

"I know, I know," he looks at you again, twisting his mouth in thought, "I've been, uh, a lot busier than usual lately. We had this family here for a while, big family, they helped out with the patrols. But they decided to go south a few months back, so-"

"So Tommy's been filling in for every shift he can," Maria finishes for him with a sigh, "And I never see the damn idiot anymore."

You smile, "I'm totally fine with taking over for you, really."

Tommy raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? You sure?" Maria slaps his arm lightly and he gives her a look, but then shrugs, "I mean, okay, if you wanna give it a try. It won't be all the time or anything, maybe just every other weekend, but it would actually be a big help."

"It really would," Maria adds, "You have no idea."

"But... you gotta understand, my big brother, he's.... he's complicated," Tommy's expression is serious now as he looks at you, "He's not very talkative these days, not since..." he shakes his head and you don't push it any further, though you do wonder what's changed.

"So you'll do it?" Maria asks, eyes bright.

"Even if he doesn't talk to you?" Tommy adds with a grimace.

You nod, somehow believing it won't actually be that bad.

It is that bad.

The first time you're officially introduced to Joel he doesn't even bother to shake your hand, just nodding vaguely to you as you stand there like an idiot with your palm outstretched. Tommy makes a face at him and then looks back to you with a reassuring smile.

"There's not usually much trouble up at the ski lodge," he says kindly, ignoring Joel's ambivalence, "The trek back and forth is arguably the worst part. The lifts were already damaged beyond repair when we got here so it's a bit of a hike, 'bout an hour to get up there and the same back."

You begin to wonder if maybe this really isn't the best idea, eyeing Joel silently as Tommy explains what you should expect. You've seen this man smile, know he's capable of making some kind of small talk, but it's clear that you're not an ideal candidate as he stands there stiffly and lets Tommy do the talking. Tommy had told you earlier that if the patrol didn't go well he wouldn't make you do it again, and you're already thinking this might be your first and last shift with Joel.

Tommy walks with both of you to about the halfway point, still going over the routine as Joel trudges silently ahead of you. He hasn't said a word, not one word. It's honestly starting to piss you off.

"Well, I gotta head back," Tommy says, giving you another smile of reassurance, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, see how it went, see if we might make this more permanent." He seems doubtful but you can't blame him.

A few moments later it's just you and Joel, hiking in complete silence save for the sounds of nature. The cogs in your head frantically turn, trying to land on something you can say to make things less awkward.

"So, when's the last time you saw infected up here?" you settle on, hoping it'll be enough to start some kind of conversation.

"'Bout a month ago," he replies immediately, voice gruff but quiet, "Weren't too many."

He's got an accent like his brother but it's fainter, less obnoxious, like he's spent more time with non-southern people in the later years of his life. Tommy had said they'd grown up in Texas and lived there 'til he was in his late 20s and Joel his mid 30s, then somewhere along the way they'd separated. You don't know much else about him other than that.

"It's the people you mainly worry about though, right?" you ask, quoting something Tommy had said a few weeks back, "Tommy said you've had more run-ins with raiders than infected."

"Tommy's tellin' you too much," he replies with a grunt, "Don't know what he's even thinking sendin' some kid up here."

You feel anger rise in your chest immediately, "I'm not a kid, asshole."

He stops then, turns around and appraises you with his eyebrows furrowed. It's the first time he's actually gotten a good look at you, his gaze catching on your face for a lasting moment before his eyes fall to your gun. You feel slightly vulnerable, intimidated by his heavy stare.

"How old are you?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Twenty seven."

His brow furrows even more, "Coulda sworn he said you were seventeen."

"Well, I'm not," you reply awkwardly.

"No, you're not," he acknowledges, "I'm sorry," He seems to mean it, giving you the smallest of apologetic nods and then turning around again to keep walking.

"You thought Tommy sent a seventeen year old up here with you? I thought you had to be eighteen to patrol outside the border."

"You do, I just wouldn't put it past Tommy to send a kid up here with me," he grumbles, "Wouldn't be the first time."

"...Why?"

"None of your business."

"Okay, but now I'm just thinking you're some kind of pervert," you say it in a joking manner but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he stops again and spins around, looking at you with what you can only explain as pure rage. You flinch backward, eyes widening.

"Do I look like a fucking pervert to you?" he asks, voice hard and angry.

"I was joking," you say immediately, shaking your head frantically, "It didn't land."

"No, it fucking didn't," he starts walking again at a faster pace, leaving you standing there completely floored.

Yeah, it's bad.

"Ellie's not speaking to him," Tommy explains to you the next morning in the dining hall, hands gripping his coffee mug. You've just told him about your patrol with Joel and the horrible impression you've already managed to make. "I really shouldn't be telling you this but with an outburst like that...I need you to understand why he reacted the way he did."

You look at him, bewildered, "Ellie? That teenager who plays guitar down by the stream?" And the one who'd relentlessly bothered you with questions about your scars, but you keep that part to yourself.

"Yeah, she's...well for all intents and purposes, she's Joel's kid. And she stopped talking to him a while ago, maybe six or seven months back now," he takes a sip of coffee, "Don't ask me why 'cause I have no idea. I've asked both of them and neither'll give me any kind of explanation. All I know is they ain't speakin' and he's heartbroken over it."

"Must've been a bad argument," you say, scrunching your nose in thought, "I mean...seven months? That's a long time to not speak to someone, especially your dad."

"Eh, you haven't met Ellie. She's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. They both are," he shakes his head, "Anyway, you calling him a perv probably pissed him off 'cause Ellie's real special to him, a surrogate daughter. He wouldn't like someone misunderstanding that, seein' somethin' dirty or wrong there."

"I wasn't-"

He puts a hand up, nodding, "I know you weren't, I get it, no worries. It's partly my fault anyway 'cause he's right, I have tried to send a teen or two up with him, thought it'd do him good to mentor somebody again. But he doesn't want it, I know that now. He doesn't want it if it's not Ellie."

"Well, he doesn't seem to like me anyway, no matter how old I am," you sigh, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, "I mean, he didn't talk to me once after that, not for the whole shift. It was bad. I don't know if it's gonna work, Tommy. I'm sorry."

He nods and gives you a small smile, thumbing the handle of his mug, "It's okay, I didn't think it'd work out anyways." He tries to hide the disappointment in his expression but fails miserably, and you leave the dining hall feeling bad about your failure.

A few days later you're back in the dining hall finishing up dinner, chatting with a few of the community members who you've warmed up most to. There's not many, but you are starting to find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around people as the days go on, more like yourself. You're caught up in a story about an infected you'd encountered in a gas station when their gazes suddenly divert from you and instead fix above your head. Confused, you slow your words and turn around.

"Oh, hi," you say, voice a bit breathless when you see Joel standing there, hands in his pockets, "Did you need something?"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he says it softly, kindly, completely the opposite of how he'd talked to you before, "When you're finished, of course."

"Oh, yeah, sure," your words are broken and awkward, "Uh, I'll meet you...?"

"I'll be outside the main doors," he says quickly, "Take your time."

"Okay, I'll be out in a few."

He nods to you and then to your friends, then turns on his heel and walks out through the big double doors at the end of the dining area. You watch him go, bewildered.

"I thought he hated you," one of your friends says, voicing exactly what you're currently thinking.

"Yeah," you reply, furrowing your brow, "So did I."

You finish your story much quicker than intended and shove away from the table, waving goodbye to your friends and bringing your empty dish to the cleaning station. You push past the double doors and scan the outside area for Joel, eyeing the picnic tables where a few people are enjoying their meals in the fresh air.

"Hey," you hear behind you, and you turn to see him leaning against the left side of the building, arms crossed, "Over here."

You walk over, trying to plan out exactly what you're going to say so you don't end up making some stupid joke again that'll push him further away from you. It turns out you don't need to, because he speaks first.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he says it seriously, a soft and genuine look in his brown eyes, "I treated you horribly the other day, you didn't deserve that."

You raise an eyebrow, "Did Tommy put you up to this?"

He frowns, "No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause if he did...I mean, I get it. It's nice of him to look out for me like that but you really don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything, I'm the one who said the tactless joke."

"Tommy didn't say anything to me," he seems to mean it, kicking the toe of his boot against the building, "And I know you were joking, I knew it then too but I'd just..." he takes a breath, avoiding eye contact, "I was havin' a bad day. Doesn't excuse my behavior by any means but it...you just..." he finally looks at you again, expression pained, "I wasn't expectin' you to be there. Tommy only told me you were takin' over for him about ten minutes before you showed up. And then I thought you were a kid and-"

You put your hand up, silencing him, "Joel, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

"I didn't even shake your damn hand," he says gruffly, sounding genuinely ashamed.

You extend your hand to him immediately, splaying your fingers out into the cold air, "Here, shake it now." He stares at it, unsure, and you wiggle it a bit in response, "Seriously, it's okay. Let's start over, clean slate."

He slowly reaches up to take it, his much bigger hand enveloping yours completely. His grip is strong and firm and you can feel calluses along his fingers, showing you exactly who taught Ellie how to play that guitar.

"Clean slate," he repeats, and it begins.

He's annoying, but you kinda love it.

He's grumpy most of the time, hates when you don't obey his orders, isn't afraid to give you shit, and gets irritated with you very easily. But it goes both ways. You're stubborn and set in your ways, you hate being told what to do, you dish it just as much as you take it, and it doesn't take much to get you riled up. And somehow, as much as you'd both probably hate to admit it, you work well together.

After your little conversation with Joel outside the dining hall, you'd flagged down Tommy and told him you were willing to try again with Joel on another patrol. He'd looked at you like you were crazy but hadn't shot the idea down, telling you that if it's what you really wanted, he'd keep the schedule the same.

You've been up on the mountain with Joel three times now, and while there's certainly been challenges and a few arguments, it's starting to become a routine. He doesn't talk about himself - it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you dare not break - but in return you don't tell him much about you either. Your main conversation points are usually tied to your interests, not your pasts, and you find yourself discussing movies with him, as well as music and books. He's surprisingly well-read for someone in an apocalypse, but you suppose he could say the same thing about you.

The fourth trip is what sets things in motion.

"Did you catch the movie last night?" you ask nonchalantly as you hike beside him, almost to the ski lodge. It's early morning, around five, and the sun is just beginning to crest the tree line, "I don't think Maria knew about the sex scene."

He groans, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes - you've noticed that he does this a lot, a quirk you've become rather fond of.

"Yes," he replies, wincing, "I heard her givin' Tommy a piece of her mind afterwards."

"The way she was yelling for him to turn off the projector was so fucking funny," you grin at the memory, still fresh in your mind, "And listen, I get it, sex is taboo, yada yada yada, but it's not like there were any little kids there last night, it was just the teens. And it's not like it was a porno or something, it was one little sex scene."

"Oh, I know, but I think Maria's trying to keep 'em as innocent as possible for as long as she can."

"Good luck with that," you snort, "I think we all lost our innocence a long time ago, for better or for worse."

"For worse," he replies instantly, "Definitely for worse."

"You're probably right," you grimace, "Although, you know what? I've actually never seen a porno."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Seriously? Never?"

You bristle slightly, suddenly a little self conscious, "Well, it's not like there's an adult video store in this town, is there?" You can remember them existing when you were a kid, before everything happened, but it's not like you'd had any use for them at that time.

"No, you're right," he turns away from you, lost in thought for a moment, "They do still exist though. Pornos, I mean. Just in other forms. There's a stack of magazines up at the ski lodge, actually."

Your eyes go wide, "Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Could I maybe..." you trail off and stop speaking, realizing that you should definitely not be asking what you're thinking.

"Look at 'em?" he finishes for you, not looking behind him as he keeps walking, "And you call me a pervert."

The conversation ends there, and you don't dare try to continue it.

The day is spent keeping watch along the ski lodge balcony, binoculars passed back and forth as you trade shifts and chat here and there about irrelevant things. Your main objective in this patrol spot is to keep watch of the main watchtower's blind spots, keeping an aerial view of the border perimeter in case people - mainly raiders - decide to make themselves known. You'd thought early on in your admittance to Jackson that infected were their main concern, but you've come to learn that's not the case at all. When Joel had said they'd come across infected up here he'd been lying to you; they'd actually come across a group of raiders who'd tried - and failed - to murder Joel and Tommy during their watch. Not the most reassuring thing to hear now that you've taken over, but you needed to know.

"It's why we got the trip wires down near the entrance now," Joel had explained to you during your second patrol with him, "We won't get snuck up on again," he'd made a face, "Not unless someone decides to disobey my orders."

You'd given him a weak smile, remembering how you'd decided not to heed his warning about going outside the ski lodge after light's out and ended up almost getting your leg shot off by a booby trap, "My bad." He'd rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.

Now that it's your fourth watch you've gotten the hang of things and have learned to enjoy the semi-solitude of being on the mountain with Joel. He's got a battery operated radio and a box of cassette tapes that keep you from being bored out of your mind, plus a few containers of books that he and Tommy had carried up over the course of a few patrols. Now that you really think about it, you don't remember seeing any of the aforementioned porn Joel had spoken of in any of those crates.

It's midday when you decide to glance through them again out of curiosity, handing the binoculars over to Joel and slipping past him as he traipses out onto the balcony. You head for the boxes immediately and start to dig through them, not sure exactly what you're even looking for. Someone naked, you guess.

"They're not in there," Joel calls to you after a few minutes and you stiffen, turning to look at him through the glass where he can very clearly see what you're doing. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and you feel your skin flush red.

"I don't know what you're even talking about," you call back, walking away from the books and plopping yourself in the chair by the unlit fireplace, which has somehow become your chair via another unspoken rule, "I was looking for a tape."

"Okay, well the 'tape' you're looking for is in the back of the supply closet," he sounds like he's fighting back laughter and your skin burns even more, "Underneath a box of cleaning supplies."

"I'm ignoring you," you yell out, "Get back to work."

You swear you hear a muffled laugh through the glass.

When he comes in from his shift he barely looks at you, just pushes past you lightly and heads for the supply closet. You follow behind him, heart pounding a bit harder in your chest the closer you get to the stash. He opens the closet door and you watch as he yanks out the cleaning supplies, then digs a bit deeper and reappears with six or seven magazines in his arms.

"Here," he leans them toward you and you hesitantly reach forward to take them from him, "They're mostly from the 90s."

"And you know this because....?" you raise an eyebrow and you swear his cheeks go pink.

"I'm a man," he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as he passes you again to head back to the living room.

"Perv," you call after him, but he doesn't turn around this time.

"You got ten minutes."

You've never seen so much nudity in your life, which is saying something considering you'd seen your fair share of it back in your QZ when life had been a bit easier. But seeing it on paper, in photographs that have somehow lasted through years of this shitty reality, it's something else entirely. You stare with wide eyes at the onslaught of naked bodies, most of which are posed in extremely graphic sexual positions, and feel your heart continue to pound in your chest.

Without much thought you'd opened the first magazine right there where Joel left you standing outside the supply closet, and you now find yourself sitting in said closet with your flashlight aimed at the pages, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend exactly how you feel about what you're looking at. A lot of it feels kind of fake, especially the looks on the faces of the models, but there's enough sexual energy there that makes you start to feel a bit wet in your underwear, a feeling you haven't experienced for quite some time; not since a few a years ago in the QZ when you'd been in your last relationship.

"I gave you ten minutes," you suddenly hear Joel say from the other room, and you quickly scramble to your feet and frantically shut the magazine, "In case you forgot, it's your turn."

"Fuck," you trip out of the closet and dash to the living room, clutching your brand new collection of media to your chest, "Sorry, I got distracted."

He stands by the balcony door and looks you over quickly, eyes scanning from the magazines to your face and back again, "Enjoy yourself?" his expression is unreadable and it makes you self conscious.

"Oh please," you reply, making a face, "Do not start."

"So which was your favorite?" he asks you casually once darkness has fallen and you're both safely settled in the lodge for the night.

"Which what?"

He looks at you from over his book and gives you a look, like he's questioning your sanity. You stare for a moment and then slap your hand over your eyes when you realize.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this now, am I?"

He laughs and you look over at him again, laying there on the couch with a smug look on his face. You retaliate by grabbing the pillow behind you and tossing it at him, making him drop the book he's reading.

"Hey!" he reaches down to pick it up again, "I showed them to you, I'm allowed to ask."

"False," you say, flipping your hair, "And for your information, I only managed to look at one of them."

He chuckles to himself and returns to his book, "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. I was just kiddin'."

"Joel Miller? Kidding?" you make a faux-shocked face, "I fear we've entered the Twilight Zone."

"Don't even pretend you know what that is," he says it seriously but his smile betrays him, "You didn't know about the Twilight Zone 'til I told you about it last week."

"That's just what I wanted you to think."

He rolls his eyes and keeps reading, letting the silence take over again. You watch his eyes scan the page back and forth, taking in the story - whatever it is - and transporting himself to another world, away from the ski lodge. He does this every patrol once it's too dark to see outside, sets the battery powered lantern to its highest setting and reads until he falls asleep. You wish you had his concentration and focus; instead, you curl up in the red armchair and force your eyes shut until your thoughts quiet down enough to let you sleep. Which is difficult tonight especially, seeing as all you can think about are those damn magazines.

After about five more minutes of silence you take a deep breath, then quietly say, "The one with the blonde girl in the bunny ears."

You don't dare look at him, waiting for his response and focusing instead on the empty fireplace beside you. You hear the crinkling of paper as he dogears the page of his book and then the gentle thud as he places it on the floor.

"That's a good one," he says just as quietly.

Another moment of silence passes, and your skin feels like it's on fire as you whisper, "I like the page where she's like...bent over."

"I can't remember the pages, if I'm being honest," he replies, "I haven't looked at them in a while."

You nod to yourself, "Well, there's this page where the guy has her bent over a table. And he's like...pounding into her from behind." You wait for him to say something else but he doesn't so you continue, "It's one of the only pages where she actually looks like she's enjoying herself."

"Hey, uh, I really was just kiddin'," he says awkwardly, "You don't have to tell me, it's okay."

"Oh," you can't help but sound dejected and embarrassed, your fingers trembling a little bit as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Sorry."

"I mean, if you want to, you can," he corrects, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "I know you probably....you probably want to talk about it."

You bite down on your lip and sigh exasperatedly, placing your hands over your face, "Kinda," you mumble against your fingers, "It's all I can think about right now."

"Did it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, voice still gentle, "A lot of people are offended by that kinda stuff, you wouldn't be the first person to find it weird."

"It's definitely weird," you take a shaky breath and drop your hands, "But no, I'm not uncomfortable. It was....I mean, it was hot," you bite your lip, "I haven't even thought about sex for a long time so it made me...uh..."

The silence is deafening and apparently neither of you wants to break it as you sit there without speaking, letting your words hang in the dead air. You suddenly feel like you want to crawl out of your skin for saying anything to begin with, for even asking about the magazines in the first place.

"Wet?" he suddenly says, voice breaking a bit, "It made you wet?"

"Very," you reply, relieved that he's not freaked out and trying to change the subject.

"Well, that's normal," he says, voice stiff.

You can't help but laugh, finally peering over at him and seeing that he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling, "I know it's normal, Joel. It's not my first time being turned on, trust me."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" he grumbles, looking at you in exasperation, "You can't just say that and expect me to give you a casual response. It made you wet, you got turned on, congratulations."

You stare at him, watching as he reaches for his book again, "Wait," you clamor out of the chair and reach beneath it to grab the magazine you'd looked at earlier. You shuffle over to him, thumbing through the pages until you find the right one, "Here," you open to the correct page and show it to him, "This is the one I'm talking about."

His eyes assess the page, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat as he takes in what you were referring to. He nods slowly, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean. She's about to come, that's why she looks like that."

Your brow furrows, "You can tell that from a picture?"

He shrugs, eyes still on the magazine, "Well, see, he's rubbin' her clit," he points to it and your face goes hot again, "And he's fuckin' her pretty hard. So yeah, I'd say she's either already comin' or about to." his gaze shifts back to you, noticing that you're staring, and he awkwardly pushes the magazine back toward you, "What?"

"I just..." you swallow, shaking your head apologetically, "Sorry, it just sounded really dirty hearing you say that."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, shifting on the couch and leaning away from you as he crosses his arms, "Well, you asked."

"I know, I don't mean it in a bad way," you step back and realize you're suddenly throbbing in your jeans, feeling that familiar wetness again, "It just... hearing you say it out loud like that, it makes the picture hotter, somehow."

He looks at you, gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. You suddenly feel like you've said too much, exposed even though you're fully dressed, and you walk back over to the chair and quickly plop back down in it. You give him another look and see his lips parting like he's going to say something else. Instead he takes a breath and drops his eyes from your face, twisting around on the couch to face the opposite way, "It's late, we should sleep."

"Y-yeah," you breathe, crossing your legs, heart stuttering as your clothed core presses wetly against the denim of your jeans. "You're right."

You curl back up in the chair and try to calm your breath, slow your heart, try not to focus too much on the fact that hearing Joel of all people say the phrases he's rubbin' her clit and fuckin' her pretty hard has made you start falling to pieces. Do you even see Joel that way? Has there ever been a moment where you found yourself thinking about him like that? You want to tell yourself the answer is no, that your body is simply experiencing some pent-up sexual frustration and he has nothing to do with it, but you know you'd be lying to yourself.

He's hot. It's not some shocking revelation or something you've realized over time. There's a reason you'd felt so drawn to him that first day in the dining hall, a reason you'd watched out for him every day and hoped he'd notice you. Hell, there's a reason you're still doing patrols with him despite him being a pain in the ass. You're not an idiot, you know yourself well enough by now to know what these things mean.

You're attracted to him. You've been attracted to him this whole damn time.

You shut your eyes tight and curl up into a ball, holding your knees to your chest. He's rubbin' her clit, his voice echoes in your mind, and your cunt begins to ache.

Stop thinking about it, you shake his words away and try to focus on falling asleep. There's no way you're gonna touch yourself right now, not with him in the room, and you're not gonna excuse yourself either like some horny teenager. You can do this, you can get through it, it'll go away soon.

It doesn't go away.

About twenty minutes later you're still sitting there with your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to touch yourself. But it's so fucking difficult. His words are playing on a loop in your head, over and over, soft yet rough, kind yet sexy, his southern drawl making it all the more hotter:

She's about to come, that's why she looks like that.

He's rubbin' her clit.

He's fuckin' her pretty hard.

I'd say she's either already comin' or about to.

You squirm in the chair, imagining what he'd sound like whispering that in your ear with his fingers pumping in and out of you as you came undone beneath him. Rubbin' her clit, his voice breathes in your mind, fuckin' her pretty hard, she's about to come.

You're ten seconds from breaking your own rule and heading back to the supply closet to find some release when you hear an unfamiliar sound coming from a few feet away. Your eyes flutter open, thoughts stopping momentarily as you try to figure out what it is. You turn slightly in your chair to see if Joel hears it too, and you feel your breath stop completely.

He's turned off the lantern so you can't see him properly, but you can make out the shadow of him in the moonlight, see the long shape of him directly mirrored against the floorboards and his hand stroking himself up and down, quick and rough. Your lips part in disbelief, realizing the noise you're hearing is the sound of his palm slapping against the base of his cock as he jacks himself off.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

Here you've been, desperately trying to push away any and all sense of desire so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself, wouldn't make him uncomfortable, and here he is doing that exact thing. Angrily, almost out of spite, you sit up in the chair and stuff your hand down your jeans.

Two can play at that game, asshole.

Your finger goes straight to your clit and you begin to rub it furiously, eyes trained on the dark outline of his hand moving up and down. You can only vaguely make out the shape of him but it's enough to make you start dripping, the base of your palm getting slick as you stimulate yourself continuously. He's well endowed, that much is obvious, and you watch his silhouette as he releases his large cock for a moment to bring his hand to his mouth and lick a stripe along his palm. You have to bite down on your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to bubble from your throat at the action, watching through lidded eyes as he brings his wet hand back down and fists himself once more.

Without much thought you slip your middle finger inside yourself, eyes trained on him as you pretend it's his cock pushing past your entrance. It's pretty difficult to imagine though, considering his cock is probably five times as girthy as your one finger, but you make do. You can kind of make out the shape of the tip, wide and shiny, disappearing and reappearing over and over. You slip a second finger inside and bite back a whimper.

The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin and the sudden wet squelch of your fingers; you don't even bother to try and make it softer, you're getting off now whether he knows or not, the fullness overwhelming you as you lick your lips and furrow your brow. You haven't masturbated in a long time; you know it won't take you long to get what you need.

"Are you-" he suddenly gasps into the darkness, and your head snaps up to look at him again, heart pounding when you see that his hand has stilled on his cock and he's looking over at you with an expression of pure disbelief.

You should probably be embarrassed, apologetic, but instead you can't help but feel a rush of pride, of spite, as he realizes what you're doing.

"Like you're not," you hiss back, practically spitting as you continue to fuck yourself, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he says back, and you can see his fingers clench around his length, like he's doing everything in his power not to stroke himself.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He groans and lets go of himself completely, sitting up slightly on the couch and shaking his head like he's trying to wake himself up from a dream he isn't having. When he looks at you again his eyes fall to where you're still getting off, not bothering to be sneaky about the way he practically bores a hole in your jeans with his gaze.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" he challenges gruffly, eyes coming back up to meet yours, the hint of a cocky smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, he's proud of himself, isn't he?

You glare at him, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going," you mean it too, fingers not even slowing down as you pant breathlessly in his direction, "And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

It does matter, actually, it really does. If he was to get up and walk out... it would basically be a rejection, something you're not sure you'll be able to deal with. You don't break eye contact with him, staring him down as you give him your own challenge.

He swallows, gives you one last look, and then flops back down into a horizontal position as he reaches for himself again. He returns to his quick strokes, almost purposely more heavy this time as he mutters, "No talking. Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you reply immediately, and add a third finger.

It doesn't take long for you to find your release, a particularly hard slap of skin from Joel on the couch pushing you over the edge. You don't try to stifle your moan this time, focusing completely on enjoying your orgasm as your hand stills in your pants and you begin to shake in the chair. Your hips buck pathetically, eyes shutting tight as you whimper and cry out in pleasure.

"Jesus Christ," you hear Joel pant a few seconds afterward, followed by a long groan as he starts to come too, "Fuck."

You manage to catch a glimpse of the way he twists his wrist, aims his cock against his button-down and stains it with his release. You wish you had a better view, that it wasn't so dark, but just hearing him come apart is enough. It's exactly what you hoped it would be.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, both of you panting breathlessly from your orgasms as the weight of what you've just done starts to creep in. You're suddenly slightly afraid of what he'll say, what he'll do. Will he get mad? Will he say he doesn't want to patrol with you anymore? You decide immediately that you don't want him to have the first word.

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, barely a whisper.

It takes a few moments for him to reply, and you start to worry that you've already ruined everything, but then he answers.

"Bunny ears," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I was thinkin' about the bunny ear girl," he's still breathless, "From the magazine. Weren't you?"

You figure you can't dig the hole any deeper.

"I was just watching you, Joel," you breathe, feeling butterflies tingle in your belly at the words, "Didn't have to think about anything else."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, then mumbles something to himself that you don't understand. You can't fully make out his expression but you swear you see him frown in the moonlight, not exactly the response you were aiming for. He suddenly turns on the couch again to face away from you, exhaling loudly, "Go to sleep."

The words strike you hard, lips parting in surprise. You obviously hadn't expected him to completely reciprocate, to jump into your arms and kiss you, but that? "Go to sleep"? What the fuck kind of a response is that? You stare at him, hoping against reason that he'll turn around again and apologize, say something different, but he doesn't.

"Yeah, sure," you mutter, curling back up into a ball in the chair and hoping sleep finds you as soon as possible so you don't have to think anymore, "Asshole."

You hope he hears you.

You wake the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging nearby, and you open your eyes blearily to see Joel crouched near the door, packing his bag. You stretch and yawn automatically, momentarily forgetting what had transpired between the two of you last night. His head tilts up to look at you and it all comes flooding back when you see that familiar frown on his face.

"Do you ever smile?" you say, voice rough with sleep.

He rolls his eyes and goes back to his pack, shaking his head, "Like you're so chipper."

"Well, at least I have a good reason to be annoyed," you snap, sitting up in the chair and stretching your legs, "Asshole."

"You love to call me that, don't you?"

"Just calling it like I see it," you mutter, pulling yourself up and heading past him to the door, "I'm taking a piss."

"Watch out for th-"

"The trip wires, I know," you interrupt coldly, "I'm not an idiot."

He doesn't say anything else but you feel his eyes on your back as you walk out onto the balcony and down the steps. You both have to pee in the woods when you're out here - the ski lifts aren't the only things that don't work properly anymore - so you've managed to each figure out your own designated area. You feel relieved once you're out of his eyesight and beneath the thick layer of tree branches that keep your makeshift bathroom secluded.

You really shouldn't be so pissed at him, it's not like he owes you anything. You know you're projecting your own feelings onto him and that it isn't fair, but god, him telling you to go to sleep after you'd essentially confessed your attraction to him makes your blood boil. He'd really had nothing else to say? Couldn't have come up with something a little softer, a little kinder? Let you down easy?

You grumble to yourself on the way back up the steps, questioning whether or not you should keep ignoring him or just get over it. Is it really worth an hours hike of hostility? You already know this is your last shift with him, there's no way you can come back from this in any way that will keep your dignity intact. It's over.

"You say you're not a kid but you sure do act like one," Joel says the second you re-enter the ski lodge, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's got his arms crossed, nose flaring in anger, "I'm sick and tired of the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, all that shit. What happened to people just talkin' to each other?"

You shut the door behind you and shake your head, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment Joel, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," his voice is firm but you can hear some emotion there, something deeper. He doesn't like being ignored and you know why, but it doesn't soften your resolve.

"I'm pissed at you, yeah," you admit, shrugging, "But I think I have a pretty valid reason."

"And what is it?"

You stare, scrunching up your face in confusion, "Are you serious? Jesus, Joel, I thought you were smart."

"Oh, fuck off," he grumbles, rolling his eyes again, "I ain't a mind reader."

You shake your head again, inhaling deeply, "I'm not asking you to read my mind, Joel," you exhale and try to calm yourself, feeling the angry tears begin to sting your eyes. God, you hate how emotional you get when you're angry. You hate showing weakness like this.

"Then tell me," he groans, "Is it about last night? 'Cause I thought we made a deal that we're not gonna talk about it."

You laugh at his words, cold and hard, "Right, yeah, sorry. Deal's a deal, right? My bad," you couldn't sound more sarcastic if you tried, stuffing your roll of toilet paper back in your pack and zipping it up, "Come on, let's just head back and forget about it." Your voice cracks on the last few words and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling the tears spill over.

"Are you crying?" his voice falters, and you hear a twinge of kindness in his tone, something you'd desperately wanted to hear last night.

He crosses the room before you even have a chance to reply, striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder firmly, making you turn around. His face softens immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the tears you're already trying to wipe away.

"Fuck," he says, brow furrowing in concern, "I'm sorry."

You snort involuntarily, shaking your head, "I'm just stupid."

"You're not stupid," it's almost a whisper, "I'm the stupid one, believe me," he brings his hand up like he's going to touch your face but seems to think better of it, bringing it back to your shoulder again, "I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinkin' last night, I'm sorry. You showed me that magazine and-"

You put your hand up to silence him, "I don't care about why, Joel. I don't even care that you did it, it's not like I told you to stop."

His brow furrows deeper, "Then what...?"

You close your eyes, breathing deeply before putting on your best impression of him and mumbling, "Go to sleep," like he had the night before, opening your eyes again to see if he understands.

He stares at you for a few seconds, confused, but you watch as it suddenly dawns on him, realization spreading across his features. He suddenly lets go of your shoulder and takes a few steps back, eyes falling to the floor.

"You can't... you can't think of me that way," he says it gruffly, swallowing and shaking his head.

You stand there without saying anything, waiting until he finally looks back up at you to speak. When he does, you make sure to look directly in his eyes.

"Why not?"

His hand comes up to touch the back of his neck and you swear you see patches of red begin to bloom along his collarbone, like he's embarrassed...or flattered? You take a step forward and he quickly takes another step backward.

"If it's because of the age thing... I really don't care, Joel," you say earnestly, heart beginning to beat heavily in your chest, "I think you're..." You can't believe the words are even coming out of your mouth, the tears on your face already beginning to dry as you try to process this new situation you've found yourself in, "I think you're sexy."

His brow furrows again, not in anger but in confusion. He doesn't take another step backward when you move toward him this time, staying rooted in place as you peer up at him, waiting for him to speak. He remains silent, his eyes trained directly on your face, lips set in a firm line.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

He shakes his head slowly, "I don't."

"Why?"

He doesn't reply, just keeps staring at you like he has absolutely no idea what to say. You suddenly feel the need to reassure him, comfort him. Your hand moves upward, aching to cup his face in your hand, feel that grey scruff beneath your palm.

He pulls back before you get the chance, shaking his head again, "Don't," it's barely a whisper, voice breaking as he says it, "Just...gimme a minute."

"Okay," you nod, dropping your hand, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin'," he breathes, still not breaking eye contact, "Just let me think, please."

You swallow, teeth tugging on your lip as he continues to stand there motionless. He's still looking at you but his thoughts are miles away; you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, calculating exactly what he's supposed to do in a situation like this. Part of you wants him to kiss you, part of you wants to kiss him, part of you wants to wait until he makes a decision. You settle firmly on the third option.

"I lied," he finally breaks the silence, jaw tense and firm, "I wasn't thinkin' about that fuckin' bunny ear model."

Your lips part; you hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Then...what were you thinking about?" You already know the answer before he replies.

"You," his voice is strained, broken, like he's holding himself back, "I was thinkin' about you and the stupid magazines in the supply closet."

You feel your skin flush, a tingle trailing up the back of your neck as you try not to show him how pleased you are, "W-what?"

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about you in that closet, lookin' at those pictures, getting...." he trails off and swallows, then whispers, "Wet. Gettin' all wet in your panties from that girl getting fucked."

His words send an immediate throb to your core and you can feel your heart in your throat, pounding relentlessly as he continues to speak, continues to say exactly what's been on his mind as you stand in front of him, so much smaller than him, letting his words get lost in the sudden warmth of your body and the buzz of your thoughts.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about it," he repeats, voice rough, eyes dark, "Your wet panties, your big eyes, your..." he practically chokes then, "Your pussy, all wet and aching."

"Oh my god," you whimper, crossing your legs involuntarily as you feel an immediate surge of wetness in your underwear, "Please, keep talking, please."

"Wanted to see it and touch it," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your face as he peers down at you with desire in his eyes, "Wanted to fuck it and make you come."

Without hesitation your arms shoot up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his warm chest and tugging at the collar of his coat, "I want you to," you practically moan, clawing at the material, "Joel, I need you to fuck me right now."

To your absolute dismay he reaches up and removes your arms from him, taking a step back so neither of you are touching. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and that red blush of heat now spread all over his neck and cheekbones.

"I can't," he says, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I can't."

You're about to protest, whine and beg if you have to, but his eyes fall to your groin. You watch with wide eyes as he goes for his belt, begins to unloop it and remove it.

"Take your pants off," he groans, and you don't need telling twice.

You end up masturbating together again, this time in the light of day. You find yourselves laying on the couch where he'd slept last night, the memory of what he'd done there fresh in your mind as you pump two fingers in and out of yourself steadily and watch him stroke his cock to match your pace. He watches you behind hooded eyes, his lips parted as he pants and gets himself off to your pleasure, watches you do the same thing to him.

"That's it," he murmurs, eyes scrunching in arousal as he scans your face, watches you come undone, "Rub your clit, nice and fast."

You whimper, unable to hold on for much longer as you eye his cock and see the way the fat head of it drips for you, slicking his hand and allowing him to stroke faster and faster. You want to say something to help get him off too but your words are completely lost in the sensation; you couldn't speak even if you wanted to.

He knows you're about to come, can see it in your face the way he saw it in the face of the model in the picture. He swallows heavily and fucks himself impossibly faster, harder, silently asking you to match his pace. You do it, thumbing your clit and feeling the tense coil in your belly snap as your jaw drops and you let out a long and ridiculously loud moan. Your eyes shut tight and you throw your head back, feeling your body begin to shake from the stimulation.

"There you go," he grunts, and you hear the slapping of skin stop as he rides out his own release, coming into his fist, "Fuck." Your eyes open at just the right time to see his jaw go slack, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the pleasure. It somehow makes you ache for more, even though you can't possibly imagine being any more overstimulated than you already are.

You both lay there, chests heaving, hearts pounding, completely undone. It goes without saying that you've both just managed to each have one of the best orgasms of your lives.

"New patrol rule," you whisper to him, legs still wide and cunt dripping with your release, "We do this. Every time. Please."

"Yes," he replies immediately, still catching his breath, "I can do that."

"It can't be any more than this," Joel says to you quietly as you hike down the mountain a little while later, the sunrise cresting the trees again the way it had yesterday when you'd hiked up; it's like nothing has changed, but you both know that everything has.

"Okay," you say just as softly, though part of you aches to reach for his hand, loop your pinky through his and have some degree of touch between you. But you can tell he means business, that there won't be any more discussion on the matter today.

"Just this," he whispers, glancing at you with a meaningful look, eyes soft and tender as he peers at you, knowing what he's done, what he's started.

"Just this," you agree, but you don't really believe it.

You hope, deep down, neither does he.

thank you so much for reading! there will be more in this collection coming very soon. i'd like to do some short fics of certain nights they've had, especially the first time he calls her a good girl. that was originally going to be in this part but it was just getting wayyy too long and i have so many ideas i need to flesh out more lol. i'm also going to continue where they left off in "don't think we could help it", and yes, eventually they will do the deed, i promise. among other things....

if you liked it, please let me know! and again, if you'd like to give me a tip you can do so on my kofi 💖

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: soft!dom joel

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burnednotburied · 1 month

Text

Chapter 1: A New Prophet

AO3 Link

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slow burn; enemies to friends to lovers; animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/injury; cutting (not to self, but still); religious/cult-like ideas

Note: So the idea for this started as a prequel to my first fic (linked here), but ended up turning into much more. It basically follows the plot of Abby’s Seattle Day 1, diverging from canon where necessary and using dialogue from the game wherever possible. I split this part into two chapters because it’s so long.

This is a lot of build-up (important to the story and hopefully enjoyable to read), but I promise romance is on the horizon!

Also, the idea of deadnaming or misgendering Lev—even in the flashback part where they’re little kids and wouldn’t have known otherwise—physically pains me, so we’re going to pretend that reader has been calling Lev “L” as a nickname for forever.

Hope you enjoy! :)

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April 2038

Abby knew as much about the Scars as any of her fellow WLF members.

She knew that the group was founded by a woman who claimed to have a vision after the initial outbreak of Cordyceps brain infection in 2013, and then started spouting some bullshit about how it was all just a punishment for the sins of humanity. Said that the way to move forward was to go back to the basics. Live off the land. Reject technology and progress and pretty much all the good things in life.

She knew that they live on the island but they wouldn’t fucking stay on it, and that there was once a truce but they broke it, forcing the WLF into an endless war.

She knew that they fought hard and killed brutally, without hesitation or remorse.

She knew that, especially now that Joel was taken care of, killing Scars was pretty much her life’s purpose.

And she knew that the woman who started all of this became known as The Prophet. And that Isaac gave the order to have her killed ten years ago.

It was for that reason that Abby thought Isaac must have misspoken when he opened with:

“The Prophet is on the move.”

He was standing over the large map of Seattle in the center of the room, hands braced on the table, head down in thought.

She didn’t know what to make of that. Or how to respond. A quick glance over at Manny confirmed that she wasn’t the only one who was confused.

One of them had to ask. It seemed Isaac wasn’t going to fill in the gaps unprompted.

“The Prophet?” Manny questioned hesitantly. “Sir… respectfully… She’s been dead for years. Died before we even joined.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who killed her.” Isaac was always calm and measured, almost always spoke quietly. But sometimes there was something beneath his words, just below the surface. Something seething and kind of terrifying, although Abby would never admit that out loud. This was one of those times.

“My unwilling informants downstairs,” he said, referring to the captive Scars being held and interrogated on the building’s lower levels, “tell me that they have a new Prophet. One their Elders have been quietly grooming for the role for the last decade, maybe even longer.”

“Okay so… What does that mean?” Abby asked, finding her voice. This was not the conversation she was expecting to have when she heard that Isaac wanted to talk to them. She had hoped to get some answers about what was going on with Owen.

“There’s a reason why they’ve been more resilient lately. Bolder. Even more bat-shit than normal.” He clenched his fists on the table. “This… Neo-Prophet,” Isaac almost laughed, the words coated in venom, “is about to fully step into her role. She is of age now. Or so I’ve been told.”

Abby stared at Isaac, still waiting for him to tell her what all of this meant. And what exactly he wanted her to do about it.

Manny jumped in. “What? So the Scars are… celebrating? You’re saying that’s why they’ve been ballsier? Killing more of us. Pushing further inland.”

Abby let out a short laugh. “If this is what it looks like when they’re happy, I don’t want to see what happens when they’re mad.”

Isaac remained stoic. “They have a renewed sense of purpose. When we killed their first Prophet, the Scars were enraged. They fought hard for vengeance. But people will only fight on behalf of a dead woman for so long. Passion for the cause wanes without something tangible to fight for. They need that higher authority to look to. They need someone to honor and defend. Their Elders were smart enough to know that their people need a unifying symbol. A living one.”

“Right, and you said that unifying symbol was on the move so…” Abby said. “Want us to hunt her down? See what they’ll do when we take away their new favorite toy?”

“No,” Isaac said quickly. “She’s not our target. We’ll get to her in due time.”

“Then wha—”

He cut her off. “The Prophet will be leaving the island soon, for the first time. In fact, it’s possible she’s already here. One of our captives tells me there will be some sort of initiation for her. I don’t know what that entails, but I’m sure it will involve attempting to kill some of ours. I’ll spend some more time with our friends downstairs and see if I can’t get any more information on that. We’ll try to prevent it if we can, but that’s not our main focus right now.” Abby opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off once again. “With the Prophet away and many of their best soldiers traveling with her, the island will be more vulnerable than ever.”

Manny gestured to the map, reinserting himself into the conversation. “Sir, we’ve tried attacking their island and—”

“Not like this,” Isaac said. “Not with everyone. There’s a big storm a few days out. We’re going to use it to mask our approach. And you two are going to lead the first wave. Pick your squads. Start prepping.”

“And the Prophet?” Abby asked.

“One battle at a time, Abby.”

“Are we sure it would be a battle?” she pressed. “Isaac, she’s just one girl.”

“You would be foolish to underestimate this unknown enemy. Besides the likelihood that the best of the Scars will be at her side, I don’t doubt that she will be a very skilled fighter in her own right.” Abby huffed. Isaac continued, “And if she’s anything like her predecessor, the greatest threat is in her words. Not her actions. I watched some of my most loyal soldiers abandon our cause for theirs after just one conversation with the one who came before her.”

At this, Abby raised her eyebrows, ready to argue. A look from Manny shut her up.

“We’ve only got one shot at this… And this is bigger than any of us.” Isaac pushed off the table, walking over to Abby and placing a hand on her arm. “I need you, Abby.”

She shifted uncomfortably before relenting, giving a curt nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Good.” He pulled away, heading toward the door. “Look over the plans and go through your rosters.”

“I want Owen,” she said. Abby thought Isaac could at least give her that.

When he denied her permission to go look for Owen, Abby went anyway.

----------------------------------------------------------------

March 2030 (8 Years Earlier)

The day of your scarring had been the first time Haven saw the sun in weeks.

Your mother said it was a sign. But your mother thought everything was a sign.

She told you that, no matter what, you were not to cry. That you, her only child, would not disgrace her by shedding tears during your ceremony.

You were to be brave. And strong.

The Prophet herself had ordained the act of scarring for all of her followers. A symbol of the innate imperfection of mankind. And so her people would never forget their own failings, even in the midst of their unending efforts towards perfection.

No one was meant to question the Prophet’s teachings, or the Elders who had taken on the responsibility of interpreting those teachings and carrying out Her will since Her death two years prior.

You could feel your mother’s breath against the back of your head as she huffed and decided that she was once again unsatisfied with your hair, roughly taking it down and beginning again for the fourth time.

While she worked, you sat still on the wooden stool in front of her and stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to memorize your features as they were now.

This was the last time you would see the face you knew. Next time you looked in the mirror, you would be different. Would you feel different?

You tried to picture yourself scarred, with two thin lines running from each of your ears to the corners of your mouth. Your eyes stung, tears threatening to fall at the thought.

But there would be no crying today.

Instead, you let your eyes wander to your mother’s reflection, hovering just behind and above yours in the mirror. You examined her face. Of course, you had never seen her without her scars, but you’d always thought your mother was beautiful.

Maybe the change in your appearance would not be so drastic. Maybe it was vain to care.

You were not supposed to be vain.

Once your mother was satisfied with the look of the braided crown of your hair, she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting you gaze in the mirror.

“We are imperfect beings,” she recited. You joined your voice with hers for the second part, “And thus we make ourselves imperfect in Her eyes.”

She smiled softly, squeezing your arms lightly. “Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know you will do wonderfully today.” You tried to return her smile. “Now. Get dressed. I laid your clothes out on the bed.”

She turned to leave you, pausing in the doorway. “Remember what I said, child. No tears today. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. Obediently.

She seemed pleased as she left the room.

You changed quickly, wondering if she had been able to tell that you’d spent the whole night before crying. You hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep.

The stool squeaked as you sat back down, not sure what to do with yourself while you waited. You met your own eyes in the mirror once more, this time immediately averting your gaze. You felt sick. And close to tears. And so very scared.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Yara and her mom greeting your mother. The eight-year-old asked if she could come inside to see you. After just a moment of hesitation, your mother allowed it, and you could hear the slight creak of the door as she came in.

Yara said your name quietly, standing just inside the door. You turned to look at her. She smiled, happy to see you, just as always.

“Happy birthday!” she whispered excitedly, closing the distance between you and wrapping her arms around you tightly. You squeezed her back, holding her close for longer than usual. Yara, never one to be the first to break a hug, lingered for as long as you wanted her there.

You were neighbors, and your mothers had grown up together and had always been close. And although Yara was four years younger than you, the two of you were close too. She and five-year-old baby L were your siblings, as far as you were concerned.

Yara was mature for her age, even more so than most of your other friends. You knew you could trust her, so with her you were honest.

“I’m really scared,” you said quietly into her hair, still not releasing her from the embrace.

“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing you even tighter. “You’re the bravest person ever though. I know you can do this.”

You finally let go, retreating back to your stool, but Yara stayed close by, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.

“She will be with you through this, and for all the days of your life,” she said, earnest. “Our pain is Her pain, and Her pain is ours.”

You couldn’t help but make a mental note of the fact that the Prophet actually did not receive the same scars as all of her followers, so perhaps this one specific pain is one that was not, in fact, shared between to two of you.

But Yara’s comment was made with a level of sincerity that you couldn’t help but admire—and borderline envied—so you chose to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Her presence was always a comfort, so you allowed yourself to relish in it for a quiet minute before your mother reentered the room.

“It’s time to leave,” she said simply. Firmly.

Behind her, just outside the door, you could see Yara’s mom standing there, holding a quiet but curious little L’s hand. They would all be walking over with you to witness the ceremony.

You forced yourself to stand, brushed your hands down your thighs as if to clear some nonexistent dust and smooth the phantom wrinkles. For a moment, you considered taking one last look in the mirror, but ultimately deciding against it. It would feel strange to do so, now that everyone was watching you and waiting.

For the briefest moment, you thought about making a run for it. Stealing a boat or even attempting to make the swim to the mainland. You could survive on your own, or maybe even join the Wolves. You weren’t scarred yet. You could lie about where you came from, and they would probably take you in…

The hiss of your name from your mother’s mouth ripped you back into reality, along with a gentle nudge from Yara.

You took a deep breath and started walking.

Once the home of the Prophet herself, Sanctuary was one of your people’s primary places of worship, second only to Martyr’s Gate on the mainland. (You had never seen it – You’d never left the island – so Sanctuary was where you most often prayed.)

Scarring ceremonies were held there, always on a child’s twelfth birthday.

You had witnessed many friends receive their scars. It was customary to attend the ceremonies of those close to you. Family, friends.

The process was always the same.

Elder Constance would lead all those gathered in a prayer, holding the ceremonial blade. You would recite a version of the Prophet’s Prayer. The blade would be blessed. Then Elder Duncan would make the incisions before welcoming you as an official member, a child of the Prophet.

It never took very long. Everyone had work to get back to, tasks to fulfill.

You would soon come to find that your ceremony would not be like any of those others.

The first indication of this was the sheer number of people who were gathered at Sanctuary. You had never seen this many people gathered in one place at one time, many of the faces you did not recognize.

As you approached the dais, the crowd silently parted for you, all eyes examining you carefully as if looking for something unseen. You couldn’t begin guess what it was.

You wanted to go home. You wanted to cry. To hold your mother’s hand. You wanted to not be here at all. Ever. For this to be a horrible nightmare.

Why were there so many people here?

Your eyes met Elder Constance’s. She was stiff and serious, as always, but there was a brightness in her eyes that you were not accustomed to seeing. A quick glance at Elder Duncan revealed a similar expression on his face.

The other five Elders also stood on the stage. Another thing that was unusual for a simple scarring ceremony.

Had you done something wrong? Were you in trouble?

You looked ahead, and your legs continued to carry you forward, despite your internal protestations.

When your feet were nearly touching the first step up, you stopped. And although your mind went blank, your body remembered what to do.

You bowed your head to each of the Elders, silently waiting to be greeted and invited onto the dais.

“Welcome, child, on this most joyous day!” Elder Constance’s voice boomed, carrying enough for everyone gathered to hear. “Come. Join us.”

You fought the urge to turn around and find your mother. You wanted to look at her face, to see if she knew what was happening.

But you knew that any moves you made in this moment other than exactly what was expected of you would be seen as hesitation, and therefore disgraceful. And you didn’t want your mother to be angry.

So you did as Elder Constance said, and you climbed the steps.

Your vision blurred. You tried to focus on your breathing.

“Two years ago, the ignoble Wolves took our beloved Prophet from us,” she began once you were standing center-stage. The reaction from the audience was instantaneous, full of outrage and despair. Elder Constance allowed this to continue for several moments before holding up her hand; and the noise stopped just a quickly as it began.

“But She is not dead! For the Prophet’s spirit cannot be killed by the evils of mankind.” The crowd hung on her every word as she continued, “She lives in all of us. In our actions and in our virtues. In Her teachings.”

“Here before you are all of your Elders, appointed to this honorable position by our Prophet, most wonderful and wise. She speaks to us, and it is our duty—our privilege—to share her words with you.”

“But today, She does not have words for us.” Elder Constance paused, the audience hushed, waiting for the reveal. “It is Her heavenly desire to give us a new source of hope. An advocate. A champion… A new Prophet.”

Elder Constance’s hands landed on your shoulders.

“Today, She has chosen Her successor.”

The crowd erupted in celebration.

You went completely numb and tuned them all out.

The Elders continued to speak, and the people continued to celebrate. All the while, your mind was reeling and your face was blank.

A new Prophet?

There can’t be a new Prophet.

What does that even mean?

There have never been any prophets except for THE Prophet.

And if there does need to be a new Prophet, why would it be you?

Why you?

It can’t be you.

If any of your questions were answered, you didn’t hear it above the ringing in your head.

Your attention was drawn to the blade that was now in Elder Constance’s hands, and you forced yourself to again begin to listen.

“…The Neo-Prophet will take on her full responsibilities when the time is right. But until then…” She continued on with familiar words, ones used in a typical scarring ceremony to bless the blade before it was used.

The knife was then passed down the line of Elders, each of them lifting it above their head and reciting the same words.

Your legs suddenly felt very weak.

Elder Duncan blessed the blade last and stepped forward, positioning himself just a couple feet away from you. You turned to him just as you knew you were supposed to.

This was the part in the ceremony when you would usually say a version of The Prophet’s Prayer. You weren’t sure if you were still meant to do that, given the circumstances, but you were operating solely on instincts now, so you began, “The world is not in balance, but I will do my part to right it.”

You weren’t speaking nearly as loud as the Elders had. You hoped you were loud enough. You hoped you were doing it right.

The pleased look on Elder Duncan’s face indicated that you had done well, but before you could go on with the next line, all of the Elders continued the prayer together:

“You will lead us through the storm May the current be calm May You guide us home.”

Their words had been slightly altered from the classic prayer, different than you would’ve said it if you had been given the chance. The strangest part was that they were speaking to you.

Almost like they were praying to you…

Elder Duncan took another step forward, gripping the knife.

You expected him to use his other hand to lift your face, to hold it at the best angle for the scarring. You’d seen him do the same to others many times before.

This was the part that you knew was coming. You had been at least attempting to prepare for it. You could handle it.

But you were thrown off once again when instead, he took your right wrist in his free hand and gently pressed your fingers down, making you form a fist. He then lifted your hand until it was by your ear, knuckles facing inward, arm bent at the elbow. His own hand gripped your elbow, holding your arm in place.

You were frozen, with no choice but to watch as the knife met the outside of your forearm and sank in. A slow, straight line was carved from the top of your wrist all the way to your elbow.

You didn’t look away. You didn’t cry. You did as you were told.

You wanted to go home.

“We are imperfect beings. And thus, we make ourselves imperfect in Your eyes.” Elder Duncan said, meeting your gaze. “It is for this reason that we proudly wear our scars on our faces.”

When his work was done, he released your right elbow and moved on to the left, lifting that arm into the same position. “But the Prophet, in Her kindness, bears the weight of our imperfections, carrying all of us in her arms. This is why You will wear your scars here.”

“Remember that You are part of us, but set apart.” The blade pierced the skin of your left forearm, and a twin incision was formed. “We look to You, Prophet. May She guide you. May She protect you.” With that, he took a step back, lowering the knife.

You slowly lowered your arms to your sides and turned back to face the enraptured crowd.

Finally, you found your mother among them.

And she was crying.

“My friends,” Elder Constance declared, gesticulating dramatically, “Your Prophet!”

The cheers were deafening.

As you scanned the masses, you felt the blood ooze down your arms and curl around your fingers, pooling on the ground by your feet.

You found Yara, who was somehow clapping and cheering more enthusiastically than anyone else. And then you saw L, held up on their mother’s hip, face concerned, eyes wide and wary.

At least someone was as skeptical as you were.

You wondered if you would get to go home now.

But Elder Constance placed her hands on your shoulders again, this time turning you and leading you in the opposite direction, into the Prophet’s grand house. Into Sanctuary.

There, servants’ gentle hands carefully cleaned your stinging wounds, took down and brushed out your hair, and helped you change into a new white dress.

You would never live in your mother’s house again.

And it would be eight years before anyone addressed you by your name.

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic

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kjhbsies · 5 months

Text

Waiting Room

Ellie Williams x fem!reader (wc: 1,156)

Synopsis: Ellie Williams married you, but her heart is occupied with someone else.

Warnings: angst??? arranged marriage trope bc i like to suffer. this is my first time to write a story, please don't mind the incorrect grammars.

pt. II pt. III

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You should be celebrating.

Finally, the girl you’ve wanted ever since you were 16 years old married you. Of all people, you really thought you would never get the chance to be with her. After all, everyone used to say that Ellie and Dina were good together, and that they were each other’s soulmate. You can’t really disagree about that. You can see how both of them loved each other, and even if they broke up, you can feel that they cared for each other deeply.

So… why did she marry you?

Ellie and Dina broke up one year ago after a huge fight between them happened. Up until now, no one knows about it. Rumors say that Dina wanted to settle down, far away in Jackson, to start a new life with her and JJ. But Ellie couldn’t leave this town, especially her family, and Joel. Apparently, this caused them to break up eventually. Shortly after the breakup, Dina and JJ went and lived in a small town in Illinois. For months, Ellie tried to remain strong, seemingly fine and unfazed about the breakup with Dina. She went on to continue her life as if nothing really happened. For months, Ellie went on to continue the routine of drowning herself with alcohol, going home with a lot of girls, and throwing them away like trash. That was her life. And you just watched it from far away and you tried to avoid her like a plague. You liked her, but you don’t want to be her sex toy.

Until Dina came back.

After a year, Dina and JJ moved in with their old house in Jackson when her older sister, Talia, got sick. Since both of their parents died before, no one is there to take care of her. So she came back, and Ellie’s life became worse.

Her failure of coping healthily about their breakup started to show up when her mood became the worst. Ellie became a ball of rage, bursting into anger even in the smallest little thing.

“You should take a vacation somewhere else. Breathe fresh air, enjoy other things, just don’t…” Joel tightly shut his eyes, “...don’t turn into a fucking monster, Ellie.”

Ellie lifted her brows before chuckling sarcastically. “So that’s what you think about me now, huh?”

“Everyone does. They’re scared of you. Do you want JJ to also be afraid when he sees you?” Joel’s voice started rising.

Ellie looked at him pointedly. “Don’t bring him into this.”

Joel sighed. “I know you were still a mess, Ellie-”

“I’m not.”

“-But you can’t keep living like this.” He says, eyes softening at her. “Forget Dina and marry someone else.”

Ellie’s brows turned into a straight line. “Are you insane? The fuck?” She coughed out a ridiculous laugh.

“You should think about it. Y/N’s family is offering up a fortune if you marry their daughter. You knew her, right? Y/N?”

“Yeah… but-”

“Good. We can arrange a family dinner tonight.”

“Are you for real?”

“It’ll be great. Her dad and I were pretty close and he always brings up that his daughter may have a little crush on you. Apparently, it’s in her grandmother’s will that she will not inherit the money, or have her farms and businesses if she’s single. She needs to be married in order to have those. Her dad offered that you will share a huge amount of money if you married her. Ellie, she’s a pretty young lady. And both of you need each other.”

“Little crush?” Ellie repeated, her ears perking up at those words.

“Think about it, kid. You’ll like her, she’s a great girl.”

And yes, you are.

Ellie thought about it for a week. Sure, she heard some great things with you. You're a prissy prim princess and the daughter of one of the richest families in the town. She’s always seen you hanging around the diner sometimes, wearing your dainty skirts and dresses, with bows clipped in your hair. She’s seen you in different spots of Jackson, immersed in your sketchbook, or oftentimes, you’re painting different portraits and landscapes. Ellie was always fascinated by you, because you and her are… contrasting.

The first time you and your family went into their house for dinner, Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes away from you. You noticed it, and it somehow made you uncomfortable. So, the whole night while your parents and her dad were talking about the future wedding, you were just looking at your plate. Sometimes looking up when one of them says something funny, cracking up a small smile or letting out a silent chuckle. But you couldn’t look at Ellie.

Ellie noticed it. The whole night you weren’t even sparing a glance at her and it made her curious as to why you seem to avoid her. Did you know about her history of girls? Did you see her at the diner, drinking her ass off? Why aren’t you looking at her?

When the dinner was done, Joel and your dad stood up and went to the living room to talk further about the said wedding. Your mom politely excused herself as she went to the bathroom to have a quick touch up. And you and Ellie were alone in the dining room.

The one time you looked up at her, Ellie was mesmerized. But of course, she wouldn’t show it, nor would she accept it. You were pretty. Everyone was right. You are pretty like a precious flower; your eyes were soft and gentle as you stared at her. You are a precious gem. And Ellie is a master of destruction.

She couldn’t touch you. She’s afraid that you’ll break. And maybe you might.

“I’m sorry.” You said, kindly, as you looked straight in her eyes.

Ellie’s brows rose. “Why? You didn’t do anything.” She said, voice raspy.

Your heart beat doubled. “You didn’t have to agree to this wedding, you know. My dad proposed this crazy scheme to Mr. Joel and I feel like it’s all my fault.” You sighed.

“I will marry you.” Ellie says, determined. “Just… don’t expect that I’ll love you. We have to agree that you won’t fall in love with me, and I’ll assure you that I won’t bother you. You will get your grandmother’s money and land, and I will share your money. Both of us need the same thing and I don’t want you to think that there’s a single hope that I will love you eventually. Is that okay?” She asked.

You should be celebrating.

Finally, the girl you’ve wanted ever since you were 16 years old married you.

But her heart is with someone else.

“Okay.” You agreed, while staring at the small picture frame at the corner of the dining room.

It was Ellie and Dina kissing each other.

#ellie williams #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x reader angst

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wren-kitchens · 4 months

Text

hey guys i’m being soo normal about dredge rn (lie) and i’m totally not making an au about it (lie)

anyway there may or may not be a drabble of this au under the cut

lizzie glances out the window, another wave of nausea flooding her as she sees the tendrils of fog reaching blindly for the boat. she blinks the tiredness from her eyes and turns the brightness of the floodlights up; she’ll get through this yet.

“how are you holding up?” she says over her shoulder. scar hasn’t said anything other than a couple warnings about red mist in half an hour, and lizzie is starting to worry.

“it- i’m okay.” scar says, quieter than he ought to be. lizzie glances at him briefly, noting the purple hue of the centres of his eyes.

“stay focused on the light inside here.” lizzie says, gentler. “don’t look outside, okay? it gets better.”

“hey I- I knew what I was signing up for.” scar says, a grin evident in his shaky voice. “I didn’t get on your boat to not see some spooky happenings!”

lizzie smiles a little. “well, regardless of the spooky stuff you wanna see, keep your eyes in the boat.” she doesn’t mention the vast number of.. creatures drawn to a panicking sailor, who would smell scar’s fear a mile away and make a beeline to the easiest meal.

“yes ma’am.” scar says, and lizzie can’t see him but she just knows he’s saluting her right now.

in all honesty, lizzie had tried to talk scar out of this impromptu midnight trip, but he was entirely insistent on joining her. he’d said he wanted to experience the things she’d been talking about, which made lizzie think he didn’t entirely believe her when she mentioned the dangers of the night—not that she blames him. if she was told about the ghosts and leviathans of the deeps, she doesn’t think she’d believe those stories unless she’d seen them for herself.

of course, lizzie hasn’t told anyone about the leviathan just yet. it- she will, she totally will, just.. a little later.

she didn’t want to scare them, okay. joel is entirely freaked by the ghost boats and the phantom crows that have attacked lizzie numerous times over—she’s always been fine after those attacks. the last thing she wants is to terrify him with the mindsuckers in twisted strand or those infuriating little fish at devil’s spine, and especially not the creature that resides in the pit of stellar’s basin. now, lizzie isn’t saying that it’s definitely the kraken, but.. well, what else could it be?

so yeah, lizzie certainly isn’t about to go telling everyone that she might be being stalked by a giant leviathan that she’s had nightmares about eating her if she strays to far from the mainland multiple times. not that she’s scared that, if she admits it out loud, she’ll have to face the reality of the situation. of course she isn’t. lizzie just doesn’t want to freak everyone else out, okay?

jarring her from her thoughts, lizzie jolts as she hears the distinct sound of a phantom foghorn—far too close for comfort. swearing under her breath, lizzie speeds up as the red of her irises begins to glow. she’s fine, they’ll be fine, so long as-

“scar,” she barks; no time to be soothing. “don’t look out of the window, don’t speculate on what that noise could be. focus on- I don’t know, focus on- on mumbo.”

“lizzie-“

“focus on mumbo!” lizzie shouts, voice pitching higher than she’d like it to as she does. “this is gonna get a little bumpy.”

the fog seems to bore into lizzie’s eyes as she searches desperately for any sign of light in front of her, flooding her mind with that awful red haze. the floodlights flicker and dim in front of them, and she slams her hand on the dashboard until they turn back on. she is not about to go driving in pitch black today.

there’s a kind of desperation clawing its way through lizzie’s chest as she catches the barest glimpses of the light from the moon dancing on the surface of the water, gone as soon as it appeared. the lighthouse is obscured by- something or other, whether that be gale cliffs or the research station or.. something else entirely. there’s no way for lizzie to know where they are, no landmark to gage their position, meaning her map is entirely useless. if she could just-

and there it is, a beacon of hope against the dismal gloom: an island. a dockable island—a lantern hanging off the edge of the planks. lizzie almost laughs in breathless relief—they’re fine, they’re safe, they’re gonna be okay. she doesn’t dare slow down, even as she’s mere metres away, in case the anglerfish is still on her tail. docks, as she’s learnt, are built to be strong and sturdy; it’d take more than her little fishing boat to break one.

in the end, it’s lucky she didn’t slow.

to her horror, her lights begin to sweep over the island, and where they should illuminate the foliage of the side, the entire landmass begins to disappear before her eyes. in a matter of seconds, the illusion of hope is revealed to be nothing but that: false. which means they remain lost, in the middle of an unforgiving ocean.

“scar,” lizzie tries her best to keep her terror out of her voice, but even to her own ears, she sounds almost hysterical. “can you look out the window and tell me if you can see any light.”

scar doesn’t respond, but there’s a quiet shuffling that tells her he’s doing as she asks. “there’s- the lighthouse is behind us. I think there’s another boat too.”

“lesson one of sailing, scar,” lizzie grits, turning the boat in a circle until she can see the lighthouse. “never go after a boat at night.”

“what if it’s a person in distress?” scar asks, and lizzie tries to hide her look of horror. she knew he was inexperienced, but that kind of naivety is what gets you killed.

“if they’re out here at night, that’s their problem.” lizzie says, narrowly dodging a mass of that stupid red mist—not that it’d change much. she’s already pretty insane. “but nine times out of ten, that’s an anglerfish that wants you as its supper.” she pauses. “no one expects you to save them out here. if you even start to rely on anyone but yourself when you’re in the open waters, you’re already dead.”

“I rely on you.” scar says, quiet.

lizzie allows herself a smile. “well, you’re on my boat. I just mean. the fog isn’t just this big spooky thing that makes you see things. it gets in your head, it brings stuff- real stuff out to get you, and half of it is disguised as hope.”

“so that- the foghorn earlier,” scar says slowly, sounding slightly more certain of himself. “that wasn’t a person?”

“oh. no- that was definitely not a person.” lizzie says. “i’m- i’m sorry, I thought I must have mentioned the anglerfish at-“

“that was the anglerfish?” scar interrupts. “you- I just thought it looked similar to a boat- it can dothat?”

“it didn’t used to be able to, that’s for sure.” lizzie scoffs. “the fog is more powerful than you expect it to be—and that includes when you expect it to be extremely powerful.”

there’s a stretch of silence, before- “you know, I think I might just travel in the daytime.”

lizzie cackles, some of the anxiety draining away. “I reckon that’s a pretty good idea, scar.”

#dredge #dredge game #lizzie ldshadowlady #ldshadowlady #gtws #gtw scar #goodtimeswithscar #this man has too many tags #trafficblr #wren writes

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

The last episode, oh my...

Come the idea of something fluff of Joel saying the "oh, baby girl" to reader. Idk, perhaps she had a nightmare or she's recovering from an injury. Whatever you want write, thanks Bee.

AN | This got a little away from me, but I think you’ll find some good angst and fluff 🥰

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Injury [reader has a broken arm]

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hated this. It was stupid and pointless and you weren't even that hurt.

There was no need for a cast. Especially not on your arm. Your entire arm. Ugh.

You tried to climb up the counter to grab the cocoa powder from the top shelf but you fell short. You couldn't get yourself up the counter with one arm.

"This is so stupid," you groaned to yourself. Maybe there was a step ladder or something nearby. You didn't recall ever seeing one but it was worth a look. With a heavy sigh you walked around the house to look for anything to help.

It was Joel's fault really; he was the one that insisted you go to one of Jackson’s few doctors. It was that same doctor that pronounced your arm broken in three different places. And then unilaterally decided to put you in a cast. It wasn't like you could have said no; Joel wouldn't have allowed you to leave without a cast. He was so overprotective sometimes - it was a blessing and a curse.

After you walked around the house and came up empty, you walked back into the kitchen with a huff. You still wanted your brownies and you were going to make them, come hell or high water.

You grabbed a kitchen chair and pulled it up to the counter. It was much easier to climb onto the counter with the chair and once you were almost eye level with the powder you reached for it.

But - but - life couldn't make things that easy after all. You felt the chair start to wobble before you lost your footing and started to fall off. You mentally prepared to collide with the cold kitchen tile….but the crash never came.

Instead you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and then you were pulled into a warm wall. After a moment of panic, you realized what had happened and relaxed.

"Joel," you leaned into him and felt his long exhale before he hung his head and rested it on your shoulder.

"What the hell were you doing, huh?" There was a mixture of annoyance and panic lacing his voice, "what were you thinking?"

"I was just trying to get the cocoa powder do I could make brownies," you shrugged casually, trying to keep this situation from getting worse, "its not a big deal…?"

"No big deal?" He turned you around so you were facing him and you didn't like the look you found. You knew that he was about to turn this into a lecture, "you almost fell. You could have hurt yourself!"

"And what?" With a wince you lifted up your casted arm, "get another one of these? At this point I don't even care. I can't - I hate this. It's so hard to do anything with one arm, one hand. I hate depending on you or Ellie for everything!"

"Honey-"

"It's so frustrating," you threw up your free hand in exasperation, "I know you don't get - but if you were in my place you would be like this too. I just…ugh."

"Oh baby girl," his hands tenderly cradled your face as you looked up at him with big, soft doe eyes. Despite your best efforts, a few big, fat tears streamed down your face. He gently brushed them away with his thumb, "I know it's hard. That it is frustrating."

"It's your fault I have to deal with this," you tried to be stern with him. Everything he did, he did for you and Ellie. Everything he did, he did with love. If he hadn't cared, he would never have forced you to go to the doctor, "this could have been easily prevented!"

"If you hadn't been so clumsy and fallen off your horse, then yes, it could have been prevented," you couldn't even pretend to be mad at him. He was right after all, "but here we are. And all I can do now is take care of you."

"You don't hate me?" your voice cracked as you looked away, staring at your feet. And he laughed - a warm, affectionate chuckle that went straight to your heart, "don't laugh at me, Joel Miller."

"I'm not laughing at you," he promised, peppering a few kisses to your cheeks, "with you. Always with you, baby. Why would I ever hate you?"

"Because I'm a big baby," you huffed, "something happened, something that realistically is not that big, and yet I can't even handle. I've gotten soft!"

"I like you soft," he whispered, "it means you're not fighting all the time. It means you're safe and comfortable. That's what you deserve. If the worst fear you have is getting a broken arm, and that means what we're doing is right, it means we're okay. I want you to be able to be soft all the time."

"Oh," yeah. His words felt like a gut punch in all the best ways, "oh."

"Oh," he repeated with a soft smile. He brushed his knuckles over your cheek, "you know I love you right."

"Yeah," you nodded, "I know. I love you, Joel."

He made a soft noise before moving to the cabinet and easily grabbing the powder you'd been reaching. He set it down on the counter before turning back to you.

"Better?" You looked between him and can before nodding.

"Much," you promised, "so much better."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was out on patrol and you were lying in bed, unable to sleep. A million thoughts were swirling through your mind as usual and all you could do was stare up at the ceiling.

But then, as if he could somehow read your mind, Joel walked into the bedroom, slowly closing the door behind him. You sat up, unable to keep yourself from beaming at him. Before he could say or do anything, you jumped off the bed and ran over to him, throwing yourself into his arms.

As soon as he wrapped his arms around you, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You pulled back and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, "hi."

"Hi," he kissed you back, "everything alright, baby?"

"Yes," you promised, reaching for his hand and pulling him to the bed, "everything's fine, love. I just missed you 's all."

"I do believe that," he hummed in content as he watched you lie down, "but I also know there's something else on your mind. You're easy to read."

"I am not!" An indignant huff escaped your lips, "'m not easy."

"First of all, I said easy to read, not easy," he put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his, "and secondly - you are easy to read to me."

"Fine," a small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, "do you always have to be right."

"Only when it's necessary," he leaned in and kissed you softly, "now come on, tell me what's wrong."

You paused for a moment before sighing lightly and waving your hand around, "its just that…I've been thinking."

"Uh oh," he teased, you dramatically rolled your eyes, "come on honey girl, tell me what's on your mind."

"The other day you mentioned I'd gotten soft," you took his hand and started tracing the tip of your finger along the lines of his palm, "and it had me thinking about that."

"Oh?"

"At first I was annoyed and mad," you marveled at how much larger his hand was than yours, "not at you, more myself. It made me feel like I failed myself somehow. Like I'd forgotten everything and how to handle myself. Like if we went back out there I wouldn't be able to fend for myself."

"You know that's not true," he flipped your hand over and repeated the gesture on you, "you'll be able to handle anything that's thrown at you. Except a horse apparently-"

"Joel!"

"Sorry - anything," he grinned; you hated how easily he managed to charm you sometimes, "you're not suddenly goin' to forget how to take care of yourself. I promise."

"I hope not," you sighed heavily, "but the thing is…I don't hate it."

"Being soft?"

"Mhmm," You stole a quick peek at him and saw that his face was pointedly neutral, "I like being here. I like our lives here. Like how normal it feels, almost feels like nothing is wrong out in the world. We can be a normal family here…and I don't really want to lose that."

"Okay," it was infuriating how hard he could be to read. Unlike you apparently, "you want to stay?"

"Umm…yeah," you confessed quietly, face warming up, "I want to stay here with you and our daughter and whatever other family we might have in the future. I like it here and it feels like home and I never thought I'd say that again."

"It does," he settled against the headboard and put his warm hands on your hips as he pulled you on top of him. His lap was one of your favorite places to be, "it does feel like home."

"And what are your thoughts, love?" You grew nervous as you put your hand on his chest, right above his heart where you could feel it beating steadily.

"I agree."

"With?" You groaned softly, "you're killing me here!"

"I like being at home with you every night," his voice was wistful, soft, "I like knowing you're safe, that Ellie is safe…"

"Why do I feel like there's a but coming?" Tears were welling up at the back of your eyes as you looked away. He was silent for a moment too long, "Joel?"

"But I don't know if I can stay here," and there it was. The big blow you had an inkling was coming but still managed to feel like a punch to the face.

"Well then I-I can't stay here either," you pouted at him and the man exhaled slowly, "wherever you go, I go. That's the deal. I'm not….you're not leaving me behind. No one gets left behind. You promised me."

"Baby…" he scrubbed his hand over his tired face. He squeezed your hip gently, "I always said I was going to keep you safe. Keeping you here will keep you safe. So."

"That's such bullshit," if he was even going to think about leaving you behind you were going to give him a hard time, "I'm safe with you. And so is Ellie - our kid. I'm not letting you leave me and I'm not leaving you."

"I don't…it's not that I don't want to stay," he tapped his fingers gently along your jaw, "I…I don't know if I deserve to stay."

"W-what do you mean?" Your entire heart dropped into your stomach as you watched his face grow hard, “Joel?”

He remained silent for a few moments, the quiet between the two of you hard and disconcerting, “Joel.”

“You deserve to be safe and happy,” he put his hand on your face before brushing your hair out of your face, “you deserve to be here.”

“And don’t you deserve the same?” judging by the look on his face, he did not think that’s what he deserved at all. He offered you the slightest shake of his head, “why? Tell me why.”

“I am not a good man,” was all he said. You scoffed in response, “the shit I’ve done and I’ve caused to happen is exactly my definition of good. Someone like you….you are good.”

“What about all the good things you’ve done?” you gestured to your arm in the cast, “and all the bad things I’ve done? The things we’ve done are things we needed to do in order to survive. There’s no way around that. All these other people - they’ve all done things and none of them deserve anything else. Your heart is good.”

He looked like a puppy as his soft brown eyes met yours. You could tell that this was hard for him to hear; that this was something he needed to hear, “how do you know that?”

“Because I know you, Joel Miller,” you gave him the sweetest of smiles as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, lost for words, “and I know that you are a good man. The things that you did that you think make you so bad? You’d never have done those things now. Circumstances happen and things change. But underneath it all, you have a big heart and give a lot of love to everyone else.”

“I-”

“And you should let us return that love,” and oh. Your words hit him like a freight and his eyes grew wet with tears, “it’s okay to be loved and to let people in. Especially now. If you think Ellie and I deserve to be here, so do you.”

“Okay,” you brushed away the tears that had rolled down his cheek with your good hand before blessing his skin with the touch of your lips.

“And if you want to leave or even think about leaving or trying to sneak off - I’m coming with you. I, Joel Miller, am with you till the end of the line,” he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug before you even realized what was happening. But you wasted no time in melting into his touch, “I love you.”

“I know,” he whispered in your ear, “I feel the same. Terribly.”

And you did; you knew it was hard for him to say the words and never expected him to. Everything would come in due time. You pressed your forehead against his, “will you at least think about it? Staying here?”

“I already know what I want,” he insisted, “you. Ellie. Here - a stable home with my family.”

“Me too,” you beamed back at him, “you and Ellie and our home.”

“Home.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us

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chai-berries · 8 months

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what starbucks™ drinks are the tlou girls ordering?

ellie has had a frappuccino once even though joel said it’s “not really coffee” (she ordered it just to spite him) only to fucking hate it so she gets random shit but when she needs energy she gets cold brews for sure with extra cream

dina is smart and knows what she likes and what will wake her up — she gets a vanilla latte with an alternative milk ;)

abby says she’s an expresso shots/black coffee all the way but she does enjoy a refresher or a tea with fruit in it on some occasions

abby would totally steal a drink of ur frappe three seconds after teasing you for liking it

out of all of them i think ellie would collect the state cups. she’s so serious about it too like it’s the first thing she HAS to do when y’all enter another state. what a weirdo. she’s just like me!!!

ellie is a chronic straw chewer and those straws look fucked up when she’s done with them. imagine: absentmindedly playing a video game or something and she’s already bouncing her leg. you let it go on for a lil longer before removing the straw and putting your lips against hers. it pauses all her movements.

ellie has adhd (cmon now) and likes studying in the coffee shop cause she can people watch when she’s bored. she has a few pages in her art book of some of the regulars that come in

abby has a routine of surprising you at work with your favorite drink and a pastry on her days off where you still have work. all the people at your job (mostly the older women) think it’s “just the sweetest thing”

abby will NOT study in the coffee shop. she likes it to be completely silent or have light music playing in the background. she doesn’t get much done in a crowded starbucks. especially when you’re playing footsie with her as you innocently drink your chai tea. she loves you but this anatomy exam is like half her grade!!! don’t worry she makes up for it later ;)

dina would have a nice tumbler collection. they’re usually full of only ice water though. you know she stays hydrated!

dina is the only one that actually uses the point system. she will honestly go crazy when she gets a free drink. this is her only flaw (but it’s not really cause i do this… it’s normal right??)

starbucks was ironically how you and dina met. you were there studying or if you’re being honest taking study breaks in between playing games on your phone. it was raining and all you hear is the squeak of her sneakers before she’s asking to share your table with you. she’s the prettiest person you’ve ever seen and you barely let out a sound, nodding your head towards the chair she had her hand on. love drunk already.

original post here

#☕️🧜‍♀️☕️🧜‍♀️☕️🧜‍♀️#what is everyone’s drink? mine is cold brews or dirty chai #abby anderson x reader #abby brainrot era #ellie williams x reader #dina nolastname x reader #dina tlou x reader #mads’ headcanons #tlou x reader #i <3 starbucks!!!#just gotta buy uggs and an infinity scarf and i’ll be a millennial in the early 2010s #dina woodward x reader

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actual-changeling · 1 year

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ellie learns how to draw, and, if she might say so herself, gets pretty damn good at it, especially faces. it helps her ground herself to see happy memories physically stare back at her from her sketch book, her walls, the fridge, and wherever else joel puts up her drawings. he loves all of them, even the very first ones that aren't much more than vaguely human scribbles.

the first year in jackson is a pain, and she spends most of it holed up in their house, drawing, painting (she has no idea where joel gets all the paint from and he refuses to tell her), and once they make it through their first winter together, she feels comfortable enough to show them to other people, too. mostly tommy and maria, and in a weak moment she even gifts them a drawing she made of them and their baby.

she's over at their house a lot, it's a lot more lived in and settled than theirs but they're working on it, and notices some actual pictures, the kind you take with a camera, decorating the living room. it's obvious that they're prized possessions, framed and front and center on the walls. a handful of them show maria and what must have been her family before the outbreak, others are newer. jackson does have some cameras saved for special events, and there are two pictures of them on their wedding day, and even one from a few days after the baby was born.

she doesn't think much of it until their second summer in jackson when she notices the way joel stares at the baby pictures and realizes that all he has to remember sarah by is the broken watch on his wrist. the only tangible memory and it's one of pain and death.

ellie mulls over it a lot, it keeps her up at night and while joel picks up on it, he doesn't press the issue when she refuses to talk about it, though she assures him she's fine.

it takes her another two weeks after her realization to catch tommy alone one afternoon with joel safely away on patrol, oddly nervous and unsure how to phrase what she wants to ask. eventually she manages to explain her idea and the positively soft, distantly heartbroken look he gives her makes her breath catch in her throat.

do you think he would be okay with it?

i think he would love it, sweetheart.

they sit together for hours in his kitchen, ellie is determined to make it look exactly right and urges tommy to not hold back his criticism if something isn't accurate, and by the end, they have missed dinner and her wrist hurts like hell, fingers stained with pencil lead and color, but her chest is brimming with a warm sense of accomplishment.

tommy gives her a frame and she wraps it as well as she knows how to. he insists that she gives it to him alone, but ellie draws him into an uncharacteristically tight hug before she leaves and hides her smile in his chest when he presses a hesitant kiss to her hair. family, she realizes, is pretty damn great.

the waiting is the hardest part. she puts her gift on the coffee table and paces the living room for at least half an hour while she waits for joel to return from his patrol, switching between chewing her lips and biting her nails. by the time he finally walks through the door, she has almost convinced herself to abandon the whole thing and just pretend it never happened, but then joel's there, gaze immediately softening when he sees her, and suddenly she can't wait to give it to him. it's a pretty big frame and the best paper she owns, rivaling some of her larger paintings on actual canvas, and joel has to sit down to open it without running the risk of accidentally dropping it.

i hope you like it.

the quiet tremor in her voice makes him stop halfway through unwrapping it, but she just gestures for him to continue, rocking on her feet.

tommy helped.

when the last of the paper falls away and joel sees her work for the very first time, they both hold their breath at once, even the summer breeze stilling, air brimming with something neither of them have the words for.

joel is looking at a vibrant water color painting of sarah, face at a soft angle as she wonders at a small purple butterfly resting on her finger, hand raised in front of her, eyes and smile shining brighter than the sun, hair a shimmering cloud of brown and gold. a frozen moment in time, sarah forever fourteen, capturing the love ellie feels pouring out of joel whenever he talks about her, a wave of affection and distilled joy that makes her miss a person she has never known.

i thought you might want a happy memory of her to look at, too.

ellie points at his watch, broken glass fracturing the light falling in, hand shaking.

i hope it's okay that i- if you don't want it-

joel's arms are around her before she can finish, cutting off her stuttered attempts, frame safe on the table as he hugs her so tightly her feet lift off the floor and she clings to his neck, relief bringing air back to her lungs. he holds her with his face buried in her hair, and ellie only notices he is crying when she can feel a few stray tears run down her neck. when he sets her down again, eyes glassy even after he dries his cheeks, her knees buckle under his gaze. they're both bad with feelings, bad with words, love shown through touch and gestures, through don't forget to eat, i'll stay with you until you fall asleep, fresh cups of coffee left on his nightstand before she leaves for school, hands searching for each other in the crowd again and again and again, never letting go.

love brought to life by a painting of the daughter that taught him how to be a father, made by the one that helped him find his way back to the light.

thank you, ellie.

they both know it means i love you, too, sarah immortalized on their living room wall where the morning sun illuminates her face with every sunrise.

more rambles in the tags

#alex writes tlou #the last of us #tlou #joel and ellie #joel and sarah #joel miller #ellie williams #tlou fluff #sarah miller #tommy miller #ellie and tommy #this got so much longer than i planned help this is like half a fic synopsis #this started out as ellie draws sarah for joel #and turned into whatever this is #so so so tempted to turn this into a full fic #but also listen listen i cannot draw i wish i could because i want to capture the image of that painting so desperately #blanket permission to everyone who wants to do that i will literally give you my first born #gonna sleep on the highway tonight this is killing me #this is an apology for the tommy's baby looks like sarah post #and a peace offering for all the angst to come in my fic #fr though im almost tempted to literally pay someone to draw this i am mentally ill #also ellie and tommy bonding as a bonus because i am still obsessed with that too #ellie is sarahs sister and while neither of them will every say it like that they both know its true #theyre just emotionally repressed its ok they communicate in their own way #anyway gonna try and not die now and actually get stuff done but also pls talk to me about them i am vibrating hard enough to shatter glass

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greeenchrysanthemums · 4 months

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@thatlesbainmushroom and @jjlovesgoodies (hope you don't mind the tags, I was not sure how else to make sure you seen this<3) both said yes to hearing about my roomies zombie au, so here it is!! Though, I must admit that it is more of a half-baked idea than a fully thought out au. I'm not sure if I will ever actually write it, so it's free game with credit.

I suppose a TW is required before you read any further. It is a zombie au, so it is pretty grim. Mentions of death, blood, injury, and other apocalypse typical things.

Etho and Cleo were college roommates before everything went to shit. Cleo was a graphic design and arts student in her fourth year, while Etho was an engineering student in his second year. They have been together since the start, and were actually in their dorm room when the chaos started. Bdubs used to be with them, but they lost track of him (and his horse) months ago. They assume he is dead.

Grian was a first year architect student from a few towns over. His group consisted of his roommates, Jimmy and Joel, along with his work friend, Scar.

None of them had ever used a gun before the apocalypse, so it is none of their preferred weapon. Cleo has a baseball bat, Grian has a knife, and Etho has a machete. Etho and Grian both carry handguns but rarely use them. Cleo knows how to use a gun but does not carry one and would have to be in mortal danger to be convinced to use it.

Cleo is immune to the bite, something they found out at the beginning because a classmate had bitten her and she never turned. Though, this immunity would not hold any narrative weight. The world has fallen apart, there wouldn't be anyone left to try to find a cure from her anyway. They are just focused on surviving and trying to keep each other safe.

However, because of her immunity, she does take risks that Etho doesn't/can't. She used to be a real softy, not much a fighter who was all bark no bite, but she would do anything to protect Etho. She has many scars, from bites and scratches, because of this reckless behavior.

It would start with Grian having just been separated from his group and he's been wandering around the remains of a big city looking for them. He eventually gets overwhelmed by a hoard and ends up cornered in an alley, where he is then saved by Etho, who kills the zombies and offers to bring him back to his camp.

Grian says no and tells him he has to keep looking for his group, but Etho is persistent. Grian caves and agrees to go with him when Etho offers to help look for his missing friends; no strings attached.

The group traverses the remains of the burning world together for several months looking for Grian's group and slowly getting to know each other. Etho and Cleo share information freely, but Grian is more reserved. He only answers simple questions about his past. They barley know anything about this group they are trying to find. Instead of opening up as the months' pass by, he actually becomes more and more reserved.

He keeps asking why they keep helping him when they have no obligation to do so, especially since he's given them next to no information or reason to trust him, and they say why not? They don't have anything better to do than lend him a helping hand.

Grian leads them more and more northwest as time goes on, telling them that he was told to head in this direction to meet back up with his group, but still, they find no trace of them.

Around 6-7 months into traveling together, the group do a supply run in a mall that they thought was safe and end up getting trapped inside with no way out after Grian brings some kind of a display/structure down on top of himself on accident and it attracts a hoard that was hidden away out of sight.

They are very low on ammo, Etho was bit while getting Grian out from under the display, Grian was injured by the accident, and they're all too exhausted and malnourished to fight. They make it into a staff area, but there's no exit that they see, so they barricade the door. It is only a matter of time before the hoard breaks through.

Sitting inside of the small room, Grian admits to them that his group was already dead and had been for a while. He tells them that he had actually been ready to die that day Etho found him. He felt bad letting Etho's kindness (which was a rarity in this dying world) go to waste, so he went along with it.

He was just along for the ride at first, leading them on a wild goose chase while waiting for a chance to leave them, but then he grew to care for them. He never thought he would find friends again in a world like this, but, somehow, he did. They gave him a purpose, a reason to keep going. They made him want to live again. They made him happy. They made him laugh; something so simple and yet so important.

He didn't want them to leave him behind once they found out the truth, so he'd kept lying to them and pretending like he was still searching so that they would have a reason to keep helping him, a reason to have him around.

He was closing himself off all that time in an attempt to hold onto the one good thing in his life. He tells them that he's sorry, that he loves them, and that he's scared.

Cleo and Etho say they don't care that he's been lying, and that he's just as important to them as they are to him. They say that whatever happens next, they'll do it together.

And then in my mind it would end somewhat ambiguously/open ended as the zombie's break through.

#grian #zombiecleo #ethoslab #the roomies #secret life roomies #secret life #hermitcraft #I had it in my mind that they would call the zombies “boogies” as a reference to the boogie man curse #but i was worried people might find too silly XD #in my mind bdubs is still alive somewhere #found and taken in by the mounders I imagine #and they eventually meet back up with him if the ending is a good one #cw: death #implied death #zombie apocalypse #apocalypse au #if you want a happy ending then they use the rest of their ammo to hold off the zombies #and are able to find a way out in time and it turns out that etho is also immune #or if you want sad but not too sad they make it out but etho is not immune so he grows sick #and he dies after a heartfelt goodbye and grian + Cleo burry him somewhere nice #or a more realistic ending to the situation they ended up in they die in each others arms #really it can go any way that you want #tell me if i should tag this as anything else!#oh also as for the “display” I wasn't sure how to explain it #I am imagining some sort of gazebo/stall that he kicks the support beam of thinking it is secure #and it comes down on top of him #but my words are not the best

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elliespuns · 7 months

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A lot of people think that Joel did a bad thing by saving Ellie, saying he was selfish and disrespectful toward her because all she ever wanted was to save the world and he was selfish enough to deny her that wish. Well, that's one thing.

The other thing is that no one told Ellie what they were planning to do with her. No one told her that she was going to die. They literally had her there, alive and well. They had to talk to her at some point after saving her from drowning. It's obvious she must have been conscious before the surgery because if they hadn't saved her when they found her with Joel, she would have died on the spot. And yet they still said nothing to her. They didn't inform her. And the worst thing is, they didn't intend to. She was a poor, uninformed child that they only wanted to take advantage of. For the greater good, yes. But at what cost?

Taking her life without giving her some time to think it through first? Without letting her decide, when was the right time to do this, or when was the last time she could annoy Joel with her silly jokes or read her favorite comic? Without letting her experience things for the last time before taking her life? Without letting her say goodbye.

This is exactly the reason why I sympathize with Joel, because he might have disrespected Ellie's wish, but he did that out of pure love, and I honestly think that if Ellie had been talked through what they were planning to do with her and her brain, she would have hesitated or needed time to think about it at least. I even believe that, more likely, she wouldn't have done it in the end if having to die was the only option.

And I know. Ellie was mad at Joel because she got to find out in the form of a harsh truth that was the result of lies that came from the only person she has ever loved so deeply. Of course, she was going to be mad and disappointed. But I honestly think that if she knew right from the start what the Fireflies wanted to do to her, everything would be so different.

I often think about what it would be like if Joel wasn't unconscious and if Marlene was just straight with Ellie at the time, and both Ellie and Joel got to hear the doctor say that for the vaccine to be made, Ellie was going to have to die. Joel would probably snap in front of the doctor and Ellie, like, "No, no fucking way! You're not doing this. You want to kill this kid, you gotta kill me first." and Ellie would witness, for the first time, just how much that man cares about her, and THIS - this would be the moment of her realizing that her life actually does matter. Matter to Joel. So the decision she would have to make about whether to die or not would be a lot harder for her.

Because up until this point, Ellie has only lived with the burden of survivor guilt and felt like she had no one except for herself and her selfless need to help others. So, eventually dying for a cure that would save the world would seem to her like a good thing to do.

But if she knew that someone already cared about her this much, especially if this someone would be Joel—someone who has been a father figure to her ever since they crossed paths—she wouldn't have done it. Which, of course, she didn't realize back when she found out the truth at 17. All she felt at that time was just betrayal. It hurt her so much that she couldn't see past it.

But it was a few years later, when she and Joel spoke on his porch, that she finally understood just how much he had already cared about her back then and finally saw it through his eyes.

That man has only ever had one purpose in his life. To keep this baby girl safe and to make her happy.

#joel miller apologist #joel did the right thing #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #ellie and joel #joellie #tlou game #the last of us game #the last of us part 1 #tlou part 1 #the last of us talk #elliespuns analyses

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starry-eyes-love · 7 months

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Marriage Dynamics - Texting with Hubby

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary | Joel x F!Reader are married and share in typical cute husband and wife dynamics that can occur with texting, especially when the wife (f!reader) informs Joel of how certain sexual practices will mean he is healthier. No out-break AU.

Warnings | 18+, minors DNI, sexual references and language, reference to smut without any smut, husband & wife dynamics, flirting, daddy kink, angst (female is upset for a moment), pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, etc.) size kink, age gap but no statements of how old, slight emoji usage.

A/N: See the backstory of these two individuals in Jan 2024 with the series titled Love Never Fails.

Texting Back and Forth with Joel Miller, your husband

You (Y): So Joel, I got a health lesson for you. They say eating pussy is considered to be organic. I know the doctor said you needed to be healthier and to try to only consume organic things. So just FYI 😏

Joel (J): Haha. I believe me coming down that beautiful throat of yours is organic too darlin'.

Y: Haha, true. God you have a filthy mouth

J: Me? No. You do sweetheart, especially when I’m shoving that fat cock down it. Your mouth feels so good when I'm in it baby.

Y: 🤤

J: Since you brought it up, does my baby need some attention? I bet that little kitty of yours needs some extra special attention today, huh?

Y: I don’t know, considering we haven't done it for 3 weeks Joel.

J: Aw, poor baby. Is she achin’ bad honey?

Y: Aching and throbbing Joel. Just to warn you, she may claw you hard for how desperate she is for attention 🫣

J: Why don’t you give her a little pet, huh, until daddy can help relieve it? You gotta ease that pressure off a bit honey.

Y: Nope, not gonna happen.

J: Not gonna happen, why? When was the last time you gave her attention?

Y: Not since we had sex last Joel.

J: Seriously? You telling me you haven’t fucked yourself since we fucked last? 3 weeks ago?

Y: Yes Joel

J: Fuck baby, I fucked my fist last night in the shower when you were sleeping and at least 3 times in a week to relieve some tension cause we haven’t been able to find time in our schedules to do it together. Mama, you gotta do something to ease that tension sweetheart.

Y: Don’t

J: Oh my poor baby. Don't worry, daddy will make it feel better soon. Daddy will stroke it nice for ya. That little kitty will purr so good again darlin'

Y: Jesus Joel, fuck 😩

J: What mama? Is she really needy right now?

Y: What the fuck do you think?

J: Don’t know baby, don’t know until you tell me. Does she need a fat cock in it? Does she want it deep and hard inside of her?

Y: Jesus Joel

J: Come on mama, does she want it?

Y: Yes, yes I want it. Want it bad.

J: There ya go honey, why didn’t you say something. Unfortunately mama, you can’t have it. Not for awhile yet.

Y: Fuck you

J: Fuck me? Yes you will honey, tonight in our bed and hard. Now be a good girl for daddy and purr nice for me.

Y: Joel, baby…nevermind.

J: What? Tell me.

Y: 💦I want it

J: Want this? 🍆

Y: Yes

J: Ok, baby, tonight.

Y: You promise?

J: Yes I promise, later.

3 hrs later

J: I hope you realize that your ass is in trouble tonight. Fucking A.

Y: uh, are you talking to me, your wife?

J: Yes smartass, who else would I be talking to?

Y: I don't know who you talk to Joel.

J: Baby, I don't fuck around on you, you know that.

Y: No I don't

J: What the fuck does that mean? I ain't fucking other women. Jesus!!!

Y: Ok, hot head. Why is my ass gonna be in trouble then?

J: Just forget it

Y: You're an asshole

J: Really? Fuck off woman

Y: You texted me first ya dick, so fine.

J: No, you sent me that pussy comment and all I've been thinking about today is it

Y: I said fine

J: Do you know how hard it is to work at a construction site with a fucking hard on?

Y: I said fine Joel!

Y: Anyways, I’m sorry 😔

J: Sorry for what? 🤨

Y: Just forget it ok…just…

J: Baby, what's wrong? Talk to me

Y: Why? You're just going to yell at me again 😭

J: Are you really crying right now or…??

Y: Jesus, yes Joel. I am actually fucking crying. God, don't be such a dick to me.

J: Hey now sugar, come on. Daddy didn't mean it. What's the matter?

Y: Don't. Just don't Joel.

J: Mama what the fuck is the matter? Come on, ya gotta talk to me honey. Want me to call you???

Y: No it's just….forget it

J: No I ain't forgetting it. Come on baby, tell me. Do you want me to come home?

Y: No Joel, it's fine.

J: Obviously not. I'm coming home

Y: Don't be stupid

J: Why, cause my wife is upset and won't talk to me. Seems like a perfectly good reason to me.

Y: Jesus Joel, I'm fucking all worked up ok. I'm worked up and it hurts, and…

J: Now I’m gonna come home.

Y: Why?

J: Why? Cause my wife is in pain and hurting and I want to make sure she feels better and ok.

Y: You’re an asshole. I'm not talking about that kind of pain.

J: Baby, I know which one you're talking about. I bet she’s throbbing hard. Is she aching to be touched by your husband?

Y: I hate you

J: Where are you? You at home yet sugar?

Y: No. I have to leave to go and pick up the boys from school.

J: Why? School doesn’t get out for almost an hour.

Y: Yeah but I don’t want to park almost a mile away. They have construction and stuff so I want to actually find a parking space in the long ass line that probably is already there.

J: Ok, call me when you get there

Y: Why??

J: You'll see 😏

Y: Joel. Wtf??

J: There's a reason why I paid for tinted windows for the car baby. Mama's gonna fuck herself with her fingers, and her husband is gonna be the one on the phone helping her get there.

Y: You can't

J: Oh yes mama I can, and I will. Call daddy when you get there

Y: Joel, please, you can't

J: Baby, either you call me and I hear you fucking play with yourself or I will drive there myself and fuck you in that car. It ain't gonna take us that long baby. We’re both so fucking worked up.

Y: Why not just at home later?

J: I may be late tonight and not in on time

Y: Fuck you, seriously??

J: Baby, choose which one

Y: None

J: Y/n! Choose!!

Y: Fine, the one where you go fuck yourself and leave me alone

J: Fine, I’ll see you there in 20 minutes.

Y: Fine Joel, I'll fucking call you. Jesus.

J: Good girl

Y: Can I ask you a question babe?

J: 🤨

Y: Please?? 🥺 It's an innocent question.

J: Innocent my ass. What do ya want?

Y: Can you spank my ass later daddy, I want you to and then fuck that little hole with your fingers also as you take me from behind? Please 🙏🏼

J: Fuck. Yeah. Sure. We’ll do it sometime soon when I don’t want to fall asleep right away.

Y: Well, I’ll be waiting forever then. Damn it.

J: It ain’t like I want it to be like that. 20 mins y/n. 20 minutes and you call me or I'm coming over there, ya hear me.

Y: Fine

J: Promise?

Y: Yes I do. I think I’ll grab my toy, since my husband ain’t gonna get in there

J: You're trouble, I tell ya. You're gonna be the fucking death of me woman.

Y: I know, I love you 😘

J: Love ya too baby. Forever and always Angel, only you 😚💓😘

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel and reader #pedro pascal #joel miller masterlist #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #mini series #marriage dynamics #pedro pascal characters #texting story

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nervoushottee · 4 months

Text

A Solemn Promise Ch. 5 | Joel Miller Series

Summary: The group heads to Joel and Tess' apartment to prep and plan. You and Joel both don't want to be around eachother but life decides otherwise...

Warnings: Not many, cursing, blood, small injuries, regular the last of us warnings.

Note: HEY HOTTEES I missed you guys and this series so so much! I know it's been like MONTHS since I updated this series but I was at a loss of where to go with this story. Since this fanfic is very canon compliant and goes along with the tlou show, its takes alotttt to write the fic and connect to the show.

But! I'm slowly coming back to it!!! I don't want to make any promise just yet but I was sitting on this chapter for a long time so here it is! hope you enjoy!

*comments and reblogs are always appreciated*

(limited editing)

----- ----- -----

The four of them arrive back inside, heading to Tess and Joel’s apartment. All of them were wet from the cold rain that poured on the streets. Tess at the front with keys in her hand, you and Ellie are side by side in the middle and Joel at the rear.

With a turn of the key, Tess opens the apartment door. She walks in and you follow in suit. Your eyes linger at the common area. Ellie hesitates, Joel gesturing to her to follow. When she does, Tess quickly steps out and closes the door with you and Ellie in the apartment. “What the fuck?!?” Ellie exclaims.

“So what’s the plan?” Joel asks.

“There’s not a lot of options. There’s the short way or the long way.” Tess explains. They both know that the short way wouldn’t be ideal as Tess states. “That leaves the long way. If things look bad, we’ll come up with something. We’ll have to drop, head to Bill and Frank’s. Stock up on everything we need.” He tells her.

Tess agrees to the plan, nodding a few times as she stares at the wall. Assessing the plan and the trip over in her head, Joel assumes. After a few seconds she turns her head back to Joel, staring at him.

There’s that silence again.

That thick silence that came when they were in the hallway minutes before. That deafening quiet meant that Tess was going to bring you up again and he couldn't run from it this time. But he’ll try to, he’ll dismiss it as much as he could despite everything.

“That’s her isn’t it?” Tess asks him softly. She doesn’t question him with anger, or jealousy. Just a simple question but it rubs Joel the wrong way all the same. He didn’t want you here. He didn’t want to talk about you, especially with Tess.

He had brought you up once years ago when he had felt vulnerable enough to speak about it. Four glasses of whiskey deep mixed with a couple pills would do that to you. He only spoke about you very briefly, and what he said wasn’t much despite being under the influence. But it was enough for Tess to remember and bring it up now.

“Does it matter?” annoyed that she’s continuing to push the question of who you were to him. But Tess still stares, her eyes flooded with an emotion that he could never properly entertain with her. Not as much as she wanted him to anyway. She scoffs softly, “I guess not.”

Joel readjusts his stance but does not push her statement any further. He can tell she’s upset and that she wants more, but they both knew that he wasn’t going to give it to her. “We leave after dark, stay with the kid.” she says to him abruptly, walking past him and heading down the hallway. She’s leaving him with the kid and you.

He didn’t know if it was a punishment or if she just wanted to give the two of you some time alone. Either way he didn’t like it. “Wait, why do I have to-” , he couldn’t finish his sentence as Tess got farther away from him. “Tess.” he calls out to her and the woman doesn’t turn back. “Tess!” he calls out again, but she turns down the hallway and leaves.

He lets out a huge sigh. He’s exhausted both mentally and physically. In all honesty, he would prefer if he could just sleep for ten days. But like always, there were things to do. And even if given the chance to rest for such a long time. Joel would probably put up a fight and find an excuse to not do it.

The front door to his apartment opened, you stepping out and closing the door behind you.

It was just the two of you now. No Tess, who was long gone. No Ellie who was still protesting behind the door of not being involved. Just the two of you. And if Joel closed his eyes, he could make himself go back to twenty years ago.

The salt and pepper in his hair are gone. His calloused fingers from construction work instead of survival. Your hair, longer from the cut it is now. The look in your eyes, more playful and loving. Instead of being a glare that you hadn’t gotten rid of since you both saw each other again for the first time in such a long time. But that is just a dream. A memory too faint to even feel real. And from the look on your face you didn’t want it to.

Yea, Joel didn’t want you here.

“So what’s the plan?'' you ask him. Joel doesn’t respond to your question immediately. Hesitating on if he should even tell you what would happen next in the first place. “We stay here for a bit, lay low until it’s darker out. When Tess comes back we’ll leave.” You nod your head at the information, “Okay.”, with that you turn, headed back into the apartment.

But for some reason Joel stops you. Despite his best efforts, despite his years of pushing back anything that burned too bright about his past. Despite the constant denial he gives Tess. His curiosity of you gets the best of him for just one moment.

“Ad-” he starts to call your name.

“Don’t.” You hiss at him, turning yourself back in his direction.

You’re angry now, desperate even. Not the kind of desperate that Marlene reeked of when she begged for them to take Ellie. But a desperation in not wanting to have the conversation both of you knew you probably needed to have. “It’s Woods to you.” You side step your balance on your other foot and point your finger at him. “This,” you start, pointing back and forth between both you and him. “We don’t need to talk about it. We don’t need to make it a big fucking deal.”

“Never said I was gonna make it one.” Joel responds with a quickness.

The open chance for you both to have a brief moment washed away quickly with your attitude.

“Good. That makes it a lot easier.”you state.

He scoffs, “You sure are a ray of sunshine.”

If you were offended by his remark you didn’t say anything. “Once we get out of here, and Ellie is safe and we’re on our way with the rest of the Fireflies, we can put this behind us.”

“We both go our separate ways and you can run off to your brother.” You finish

“Fantastic.” He says monotone

“Great.”

You turn to open the apartment door and Joel follows you inside. Joel walks past the two of you and places his bag against the couch before taking a seat. “So who’s Bill and Frank?”

Joel sees you sit down at the table, letting your bag fall next to you.

Ellie continues, “The radio’s a smuggling code, right? ‘60s songs, they don’t have anything new, 70s, they got new stuff. What’s 80s?” Joel never answers the young girl's question, already annoyed at the fact that not she hadn’t been here even five minutes and the young girl was already snooping in things that didn’t belong to her. He gets up and takes the book out of her hand and tosses it at the table you were sitting at and heads back to the couch to lay down.

“Next time ask before you go snooping through people’s things please.” he can hear you say to her.

“Well how could I when they kept me in here by myself for so long?”

“Patience is a thing, Williams.” you state with a small tune in your voice.

“Yea, yeah Woods.” she mutters back.

He listens to the whole ordeal, the playful tone of banter between you two. Do you let Ellie only call you Woods too? Is there a reason why you only go by your last name? He assumed ‘Williams’ was Ellie’s last name. But the way the two of you said it back to each other, it didn’t seem like a standard. But a simple play at words that meant more than just saying each other's name.

Joel lays down on the couch with his eyes closed. He can hear the footsteps of a person who assumed was the annoying girl. “What are you doing?”

“Killin’ time.” he says simply

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” the young asks loudly

“I’m sure you and Woods will figure it out.”

Joel hears you sigh and the sound of his kitchen chair creaking. Indicating you stood up from where you were sitting previously. “Actually, you got a mirror? I need to clean and cover up some of these cuts but I can’t see much.” you ask him nodding your head towards the window, the sky getting darker and darker with each minute.

Joel opens his eyes at your question to see you already staring at him. Your hands on your hips in question. The same thing you used to do 20 years ago when you were annoyed with him and asked him something. He points his finger lazily, “The door behind you.” He watches as you turn around and mutter a “thanks”. Grabbing your bag, you open the door which leads you to the bathroom. There wasn’t much for light and the bathroom amenities barely worked as is. But a mirror doesn’t need power to work.

He closes his eyes again to try to get some sleep before it’s time to move. Ellie sighs as she walks past Joel opting to sit in the chair by the window. “Your watch is broken.”Despite it being a simple sentence that didn’t mean anything to the young girl. Meant everything to him. The watch that was gifted to him by the one he held so dear to his heart, gone. The woman he loved was just a painful memory now real and alive, now an entirely different person as was he. The day, the night which was supposed to be a wonderful night turned to hell in a matter of hours.

Joel opens his eyes and sees you. With how he lays on the couch, he has a full view of his common area. The front door, to see when Tess comes back. The kitchen table you once sat at, now the bathroom you stood in with the door open. The small lamp used for light illuminated the small room with its white hue.

He had a full view of you as he watched you patch up the wounds and bruises you had received from a now dead member of Robert and his crew. Your jacket was off, in the sink that you leaned over to look at the cut that was blazing red on your neck. You were applying a piece of cloth to stop the bleeding. You grunted from the pain as you applied pressure. His eyes trailed your body and stopped at your waist. Your tank top rising from you reaching towards your neck. A sliver of your lower stomach showing everytime you lifted your shoulders.

With the help of the dim lamp light, Joel could see a small glimpse of a tattoo peeking through on your right side. Joel’s heart sank and his blood ran cold when he realized what the tattoo was.

He couldn’t see all of it, as it looked like the tattoo seeped farther down into your jeans. But he did see a part of it. Before he could be sure what it was, your shirt was shoved down. He looks back up at your face to see you already staring back at him. With a fierce look in your eyes, you grab the door and close it shut, away from Joel’s view.

Now slightly embarrassed and interested all at the same time, the man closes his eyes and lets sleep rush over him.

— — — —

You had finished cleaning up your wounds a long time ago.

The door now closed and away from Joel’s curious stare, you stand in the barely lit bathroom. Deep breaths going in through your nose and out through your mouth. You assess everything that's happened in only a few short hours.

Marlene and Kim are badly wounded. The rest of the team that was in that hallway was wiped out. One of ‘Robert’s’ goons trying to make you join them a few hallways down. Marlene making the decision of you and Ellie being “cargo” to Tess and Joel.

Joel. A man you tried to put behind you for years now. To keep that part of your life dead and buried for as long as you could. It was forcefully dug out of the dirt and thrown back into your life without a say on either of your parts. Unwanted feelings and memories resurfacing with every waking minute you stand close to him.

He was supposed to think you were dead. You wanted to keep it that way. And if you had the right idea, you would grab Ellie and take her away when he was sleeping and get to the rest of the Fireflies yourself. But Marlene was right, it was too risky to do it alone. You would never forgive yourself if you died and left Ellie alone before getting there. The plan wasn’t to die, but in this world there’s always a risk. There’s always a “what if”.

Plus, you cheated death once, you didn’t think God would let you do it again.

The only other option was to let Joel and Tess take you both there. Let the man you onced loved so dearly, with every fiber in your being, bring Ellie safely to the group. The man who you knew like the back of your hand. Twenty years can change so much about a person. If there was no such thing as infection or the world didn’t go to shit, age would be the main reason for that change. Both older, and both having to do things to survive.

You knew with time, if you weren’t careful with your anger towards him or if Joel would stop staring at you. Ellie will get curious and ask questions. You loved that young girl with everything you still had in you but the questions you knew she would ask would bring up things you wouldn’t want to talk about.

After a minute or so, you finally looked at yourself in the dirty mirror. Giving your wounds a final once over and put your jacket back on. Open the door to see Ellie sitting at the window next to the couch Joel was sleeping on. The girl turned her head at the sound of the door opening, her thumb against her mouth as she bites her nail, a dirty habit you’ve been trying to get her out of. “He mumbles in his sleep.”

You walk over to place your bag back on the kitchen table. “Oh yeah?”

“He said your name a few times… and something about daisies.” she tells you.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It wouldn’t be you and your angry comments or even Joel’s intense stares that would get Ellie to bring up your past. It would be Joel and his stupid mumbling in his sleep. His own subconscious coming out to bite you in the ass. You sigh, not even bothering to try to come up with something to change Ellie’s mind.When you don’t respond back to her, simply just placing the items you just used back in your bag, Ellie speaks.

“You got anything to say on that?” Ellie questions.

You grab a chair and drag it across the floor, closer to where Ellie was sitting. You hope the annoying sound of the chair legs scraping the floor would cause the stupid man on the couch to wake up. So he can endure the same questioning you knew Ellie was going to give you. He stays asleep to your disappointment, eyebrows furrowed as if he’s having a bad dream.

You sit down with a grunt, propping your feet up at the foot stool. “Not really.”

Ellie squints her eyes at you, something she does when she tries to “intimidate” you into telling her the truth about something. “If you try to lie it wouldn’t work either. Because he said your name.” You roll your eyes and shake your head, “He could know another person with that name.”

“Would that other person have a bunch of daisies tattooed on them?” She got you there. You don’t say a thing, which gives her the confirmation she needed. Eager to know more she turns herself more towards you, giving you her full attention. Her eyes light up as they always do when she learns something new or does something exciting. You could already tell the thousand of questions that were piling up her tongue. “So you two know each other?”

“Knew. Knew each other.” you correct her. Emphasizing the past tense.

“Same thing. Either way you both know something about the other.”

She wasn’t going to let this go, you knew that. And once Joel woke up, she’d probably ask him and you’d rather not be in the same room when that happens. You rather be a thousand miles away and preferably still dead in his mind but you can’t always get what you want. “It was a long time ago, El.” you say to her softly. You look up at her and hope she can see in your eyes and in the tone of your voice that you really weren’t up for the conversation.

She seemed to catch on, her raised shoulders in excitement now relaxed. Her eyes less dim as she sighs. “Later?” asking if she can ask you about it another time.

“Sure.”

Joel wakes up with a deep breath. “You mumble in your sleep.” Ellie tells him.

You watch Joel sit up from his layed position. Stretching out his shoulder, probably sore from sleeping on the couch. “I’ve never been on the other side of the wall. Addie tells me stories but I never saw it for myself.” Ellie states.

You can feel Joel turn his head at you when Ellie says your nickname. After your stern statement of telling him not to say your name or anything in relation to it. You’re not surprised that Joel is shocked to hear Ellie say it so casually.

You don’t look at him though. Your eyes linger on the blue and purple butterfly taped on the window. Your mind lingers to old memories that still hurt after so many years. “You guys go out there alot? You and Tess?” Ellie asks.

“I guess..” he replies.

“When was the last time?” You can tell these questions Ellie asks aren’t with excitement or positive curiosity. She was scared. And with being so young and never seeing much of anything except the QZ or the FEDRA school you didn’t blame her.

“Maybe a year. What’s it matter?” he questions in annoyance.

“What matters is do you know where you’re going?” You ask him, helping Ellie ask the question she truly wanted to know. “Do you?” Ellie pushes, “So we’re going to be okay.”

You watch Joel, his annoyance leaving slightly once he realizes what you already know. Despite everything, despite how fierce Ellie may seem. Or brave or determined she may look, she is still a young girl. A young girl that is experiencing all these new things in the span of such a short time and she’s scared.

His eyes flicker to you briefly before answering. You raise your eyebrows with your arms crossed. Waiting for his answer. “Yeah.” he finally says, leaning back on the couch.

Satisfied with his answer, Ellie turns her attention back to the window. Looking outside in the dark streets of the Boston QZ. “Look how dark it is.” You hum in agreement. From where you're seeing you can get a view of what's outside the window. Your eyes flickering back to that butterfly every so often.

“So what’s the deal with you anyway?” Joel asks curiously, “You some kinda bigwig’s daughter or somethin’?” You laugh quietly at his question. If that were the case, this trip would be a whole lot easier than what it probably is going to be. “Something like that.” Ellie tells him, with a smirk on her face as the two of you look at eachother. Joel looks between the two of you for more commentary on the matter besides what Ellie had said.

“Oh, that radio came on when you were asleep.” Ellie told Joel.

Your eyebrows furrowed, not remembering hearing the radio go off. Maybe it did when you were in the bathroom but either way you still would’ve heard something. “What? What was the song?” Joel’s now relaxed position turned interested as he leant forward to listen to what Ellie had to say. “He kept saying, ‘Wake me up before you go-go?” the young girl looked at you confused then back at Joel. You knew the old song, hadn’t heard it in a long while but had no clue what it meant to Joel.

“Shit.” Joel whispers to himself, you curiosity perks up at his reaction and from the corner of your eye you see Ellie smile smugly.“Gotcha. 80s means trouble. Code broken.”

“Ellie-” you begin to scold her for what feels like constantly for her nosyness.

“Listen-” Joel speaks up to more than likely scold her also for her nosyness.

You and Joel both didn’t get to finish what you were going to say when the apartment door opens. Tess was back from wherever she had gone.

“The spot under Lancaster looks good.” She says to Joel, placing her bag down on the chair you once sat in. She looks at the three of you until her eyes land on you. “She got a jacket?”

“Yea, in her pack.” you respond back.

“Good, get it out and let's go. It’s time.”

Everyone gets up with her announcement. You get your bag that was on the floor and put it across your shoulders. Ellie does the same after she puts her jacket on. The both of you head toward the front door as you watch both Joel and Tess speak without words.

“We’re ready.” you tell them.

With that, the four of you head out the door. You were hoping this would be easy, but that was asking for a lot.

----- ----- -----

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smok3r7 · 2 months

Text

One Door Closes & Another One Opens

Joel x OFC!Divorce Lawyer

Explicit, 18+

I Need Help

Main MasterList & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: She’s a divorce attorney and he’s a husband looking for help to save his daughter, and himself, from his gambling addict wife. Renae Russo is a woman who fights for her clients and wins. She’s satisfied with her life and what she does - but she wishes she could have a little more. What happens when Joel Miller becomes her client and an old flame of Renae’s reignites in the same breath?

Chapter Summary: How can a diner affect two peoples lives and the way they live? It’s like the butterfly effect and weird coincidences all wrapped into one, for both Joel and Renae.

Word count: 10.1k

Warnings: Angst, verbal fight

—

Joel can feel the tension in the truck between him and Sarah, it seems every other second he’s glancing over at Sarah next to him in his rear view mirror and he just watches the way her small face contorts, like she’s trying to find a way to talk about it. He can only imagine the questions she has about this morning, or the situation as a whole. But frankly, he’s more worried about his answers to her - how would he explain it in a way she would understand, but without totally degrading Annie?

Because she is still her mom.

His palms can’t help but sweat and constantly re-grip the steering wheel multiple times, and his stomach softly growls but it’s hidden by the country music that flows through the truck. He’s so nervous and the lack of sleep has him feeling even more on edge. He’s never been like this around Sarah - but she’s also never witnessed first hand, or at least to Joel’s knowledge, how bad Annie actually is.

“So, dad,” the sweet angelic voice soothes his ears, but also scares him, “What exactly is going on with mom?”

There it is - the one dreadful question he didn’t want to hear, especially today. Umm, well, he’s trying to think of something, really anything to say to her while he’s focusing on the morning traffic in front of him, only about a block away from her school.

“She just isn’t the same. Did- did I do somethin-“

“No,” he blurts out and turns his head, loud enough to startle her for only a second, and look back at him as he stares into her beautiful doe eyes, “Don’t ever say that alright? Mama’s just got some of her own things she’s gotta sort through - I can’t help her, Grandma ‘n Grandpa can’t help, only she can. It's never your fault, ‘kay?”

Sarah just nods her head and whispers, I love you. Joel can feel the water glaze over his eyes, so he glances back to the driveway that leads to her school, then back to her. “I love you too baby girl. Now,” he clears his throat as he pulls up to the front of the building, puts the truck in park and twists his torso to look at her fully. “I don’t want this mornin’, or the things about Mama, to mess with your head. Go have fun with your friends, learn somethin’ new that you can tell me at dinner t’night, alright? I love you so much, my little princess.”

A genuine smile takes over the meek one she had, and she leaps out of her seat and wraps her arms around Joel’s shoulders and tightly squeezes. You’re the best, she whispers into his neck and he’s somewhat surprised, but he whisks those thoughts away and mindlessly hugs her back.

This is his daughter, and Annie may be her mom, but Joel will be damned if he continues to let her act like this, especially since he knows that it’s starting to affect Sarah.

“Alright, dad,” she laughs, “I’m gonna be late!” Joel lets go of her, sorry sorry kiddo, and watches as she slides over to her door and hops out the truck, but before she closes it she tells him she loves him one more time. Joel blows a kiss to her and waits until she’s in the school to pull away.

Sarah picked out her outfit today and surprisingly, it turned out cute; A simple light purple t-shirt, white capri cargo pants, and her purple and white sneakers. Her gorgeous brown hair was pulled back into a low bun, one of her favorite hairstyles for school.

He can’t help but feel warm and proud about his intelligent, beautiful daughter. He pulls out from the school and continues down the main road to his house and he dreads having to face the reality that waits for him.

—

With his house key in the door knob, Joel takes a deep breath before he twists the key to unlock it and deal with Annie. This is the last time, he mumbles as he pushes the door open and locks it behind him. Deciding to not dwell on this anymore than he has to, he walks down the short hallway that leads to the kitchen where he sets his keys down and grabs cleaning supplies from the cabinet under the sink.

Again, this has become part of his egregious routine and Joel despises it every single time, mainly because he never would’ve guessed this is how his life would’ve turned out to be. He married Annie because he genuinely loved her, and she loved him.

Maybe they were naive to get married only after two years of dating and knowing each other. But Joel felt that she was the love of his life, he was acting like a teenager trapped in a thirty year old body.

Their chemistry was like they were meant to be, Annie completed him in ways he never imagined and he matured a lot in their relationship - more than her it seems now. The sex was nothing Joel expected out of her, it became one of the main reasons he loved her was because of her skills in bed. The way she could take his whole cock in her throat and let him ruin her face how he wanted, had Joel obsessed. A major red flag now that Joel looks back on it. But they were so happy the twelve years before Sarah and the couple years after but Joel’s love for her has vanished completely; all he cares about is Sarah and Tommy.

When Annie was hammered one night about a year ago, she told Joel that she simply fell outta love with him because he gives so much time and attention to Sarah. Joel absolutely lost his mind that day, he came this close to kicking her out then and there but he just packed a bag for Sarah, picked her up from school, and they stayed at Tommy and Maria’s for the weekend.

This has happened more times than he’d like to admit and Joel is not proud of it or himself for allowing it, but he is proud of Sarah and how well she’s been handling herself.

Her grades have never slipped past a B-, she’s never been in detention, she still is the bubbly little girl that Joel remembers, and she’s still very involved with her group of girlfriends - Joel just worries a lot about her, always will. He just prays that it stays that way, even though he knows as she gets to be a teen, she may have some issues with things, in which Joel will be there every step of the way with her.

“Joel?” Annie’s tired voice comes from the living room, “Is that you baby?”

“Yep.” His voice monotone as he stands up with a small plastic bag full of dirty paper towels in one hand and cleaners in the other. “Be there in a minute.” Although Joel wants nothing more than to eat some greasy food and go to sleep - he’s probably accumulated four hours of sleep this whole week - Joel knows that he’s not going to be able to do any of that, this Wednesday is going to kick his ass.

After throwing away the soaked rags away in the trash can that sits behind the garage, he heads back inside, washes his hands, and grabs a small brown wash cloth and runs it under cold water, making sure to ring it out so it’s not sopping wet, otherwise she’ll complain about it dripping down her neck, and he doesn’t wanna hear it.

Joel walks into the living room and spots Annie laying on the brown sectional that’s against the huge front window. The suns blocked by the blackout shades that are partially over the window, a beam of light shines through the sliver in the middle.

“There you are,” Annie purrs, shifting to her side to look at Joel. “Worried me for a second.” He can tell she’s sobered up since he left her in the bedroom over an hour and a half ago. She showered, her damp blonde hair clings to her shoulders and neck, she’s wearing Joel’s gray sweatpants and his Texas Longhorns shirt.

Before he lost his love for her, this would’ve had Joel drooling while crawling to her, then fucking her into oblivion. But now, he has no physical reaction to her anymore, hasn’t for two years. Any time she tries to initiate anything sexual, Joel’s body doesn’t react - April fifth, two-thousand twenty-two was the last time they fucked and there was no attachment from Joel. He only did it to see if the chemistry and spark was still there, which it was not. It’s pretty sad if you really think about it.

Yeah yeah, Joel mumbles as he slightly bends over and sets the washcloth on her forehead while she just stares at him. He can’t help but feel livid about this morning, it’s the latest she’s come back and he can’t stop hearing Sarah’s, dad, on loop. It breaks his heart every time.

“You can’t keep doin’ this Annie.” Joel scolds her as he takes a step back, folding his arms over his puffed chest, “This is not healthy, or safe for you.”

Annie sits up, moving the cloth to the top of her head, and stares back at Joel, her bright blue eyes glowing, he can see the gears turning in her brain. “Wait…what?” Her expression is one that Joel hasn’t seen since she was sober, it’s like she’s actually listening to what he has to say. Which rarely happens anymore.

Now he’s getting angry, because she’s acting like she’s done nothing wrong or that this is all normal - which it’s not. Joel can’t help but scoff at her, “You’re a piece of work, ya’ know that? Did you not hear Sarah this mornin’ when I had to carry your drunk ass to bed?”

“No, I-“

“Didn’t think so.” He turns to walk away, he can’t have this conversation right now because he will snap on her. Then that will be something he will regret.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Annie stands up and walks to him, the cool rag being thrown to the floor, “Huh?”

Joel spins around and in seconds in her face as he calmly, but strongly tells her, “I’m filing for divorce ‘n full custody of Sarah. That’s what I mean.”

“You can’t- Joel, no-“ Annie can’t form a sentence, she’s speechless from his threats, which she knows he’ll act on. Joel knows it too and he’s not scared, so he starts to walk away again. But Annie snags his left forearm, forcefully spinning him to face her, the pleading demeanor now forming into an evil one.

“You are not taking my daughter.” She snarls, her eyes never leaving him in a death stare, her body is vibrating from the adrenaline flowing. “Over my dead body, Joel.”

Joel can’t help but smirk at her sudden confidence, even though he knows she somewhat means it, there’s no way she’s gonna stick to it. “You’re already halfway there,” he leans down so he’s inches away from her face and whispers, “Why don’t ya’ go finish the job for me?” He knows he shouldn’t say it, but he can’t help himself - he’s been a doormat for so many years.

Something changes in Annie’s eyes, something dangerous. Joel should’ve seen it coming, but he doesn’t or at least not until it’s too late. Annie winds her right hand back and smacks Joel across the face, her acrylics scraping his cheek and tip of his nose. Fucking asshole, she whispers behind tears filling her eyes. Joel can’t do anything but smirk with his tongue in his cheek as he stands back up and just turns around to leave.

“You know,” he’s about to reach the corner that leads to the garage when he hears it, “A real husband would help his wife, not abandon her when she really needs him.” This punches Joel in the gut more than the slap did, because all he’s done for the past four years is be the husband who takes care of his wife who has an addiction, multiple, that she won’t admit to.

He’s the one who’s given up everything for her, he can’t remember the last time he had fun or a night to himself - his life revolves around Annie. But he has no fight left in him, he wants to give up on this and he has every right to. Joel knows there’s nothing left for him to do or to try to fix - this is the end.

“Same could be said ‘bout the wife.” He mumbles loud enough for her to hear and he sees the vengefulness and pain spread across her face before he continues to leave. Snagging his keys off the counter where he left them, Annie continues to cry and shout at Joel; everything from I’m sorry, to fuck you, Joel, to you’re not taking my daughter, until he slams the door behind him.

Now in his truck, Joel flips between skipping work or sucking it up and going in, but he decides there’s no way he could have a good work day, or even be productive. He’s simply too exhausted to be any kind of help to anyone right now. As he exits the cul de sac and hits a main road, Whitney st, he grabs his phone from the seat next to him and calls Tommy, he knows he’ll understand. Tommy’s the only one who Joel can really talk to about the things going on with Annie, so he knows how bad it is.

After the first four or five rings, he picks up, “Hey Joel, what’s up?” With one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding the phone to his ear, Joel sighs and tells him he’s not gonna make it in today.

“Annie again?”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow ‘bout it all.” He sighs, turning down one of the million dirt roads, Cherry Ave, in silence.

“Alright, go get some sleep, big bro. Tell Sarah I said hi for me. ‘Kay?”

Will do, see ya. Joel hangs up and throws his phone back on the leather seat next to him, then moves to turn up the radio so he can mindlessly listen to it.

“There are days every now and again

I pretend I'm okay

But that's not what gets me

What hurts the most

Was being so close”

“Damn song,” he mumbles as he leans to his left and grabs his pack of Marlboro Red cigarettes while listening to the music. He grabs one and lifts it to his lips where it sits between the top and bottom, he flicks his baby blue lighter on and holds the flame on the end of the cigarette, quickly glancing to the road and back while he inhales lightly at the same time, making sure it’s lit. Once he feels the rush of nicotine hit his throat and flow through his chest, and a cloud of white smoke fills the truck and billows out the window, a sense of calmness swarms him from the inside out.

Joel continues to drive aimlessly for the next two hours, losing count of how many cigarettes he smokes, just wishing him and Sarah could just run away and start somewhere else. A place where she could flourish without the fear of her mother, where Joel could be the father he knows Sarah needs. And who knows, maybe even find someone for himself, to be an actual partner.

The dinging of his gas tank brings him back to reality, he glances down and sees the light is on, god damnit. He did not mean to drive that much, he needed this tank to last him till Friday but looks like he’ll have to fill up now and be broke for the rest of the week. Luckily he was on his way back, so he’s close to the city so he can make it to a Speedway that’s less than a couple blocks away.

“Three eighty-six?” He can’t help but laugh in disgust at the ridiculous gas prices as he pulls up to a pump,“What a joke.” Shutting his truck off, he rubs his eyes with his fingertips to help relieve the fuzziness that sits behind them. After recouping himself enough to go inside, he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and checks how much cash he has, pulling out two fifties and six twenties. Not as bad as he thought.

While debating which would be the best financial decision, his stomach growls like a pack of wolves. It hits him that he hasn’t eaten anything - he glances at his wrist watch that reads eleven twenty-two - in about twenty hours and it’s starting to affect him.

Joel remembers Jes’s Diner is only a mile away from here, his favorite place for brunch, which sounds fantastic to him right now. So he decides to use one of the fifties and one of the twenty’s, seventy should get him close to a full tank. So he puts the rest of the cash back in his wallet and hops out his truck to go pay for his gas before he heads to the diner.

—

Renae takes one last puff off her cigarette before she throws it to the sidewalk and smooshes it with her larger part of her heel, squishing it making sure it’s out. She’s meeting up with Gia and Bianca at the same restaurant they always do when they come home, Jes’s Diner, it’s just before noon when she gets there. She feels relaxed mainly because she doesn’t have any appointments until three thirty PM, so she can spend a good chunk of her time with her sister and niece.

The restaurant has an outdoor seating area with multiple large fans on the ceiling which helps to keep the air flowing, and since it’s the middle of May in Austin, it's warm.

“Auntie!” Bianca basically yells and leaves her chair to run to Renae when she spots her about two tables away. “Hi Lovebug!” Renae cheers back as she holds Bianca under her armpits and lifts her up into a tight hug, slightly swinging her small body side to side. I missed you so much, Bianca mumbles into the crook of Renae’s neck, and she tells the girl the same before she walks on over to the round table where Gia sits with rosy cheeks and a warm smile.

The cement causes her white colored heels to take over the slightly enclosed area, if she’s getting looks or stares she doesn’t care. Renae always has heels on her feet - it’s a rare sight for her not to. The only place she doesn’t is at the gym - other than that, you never see her without them. She knows the clicking of them on hard surface floors can annoy or distract a lot of people, but she doesn’t let the opinions of others influence things she loves.

And her main love will always be her heels - next to Bianca and Frankie.

“Alright B, sit down please.” Gia looks up at Bianca, who’s still in Renae’s arms, “You’re gettin’ too big for that, soon you’ll be as tall as Auntie Renae.” She can’t help but laugh as she watches Renae let Bianca down to the floor and turn to face her.

“And hi, Mrs. New York!” Renae smiles and slightly bends over to hug Gia, so she doesn’t have to stand up from her chair. Gia coined that name for herself when she first moved and, when Renae started saying it, it just stuck. So she calls her that every time, it’s even Gia’s contact name in Renae’s phone. Hi baby, Gia hugs her tightly for a moment, then let’s go and let's Renae walk to the other side of the table and sit down.

As she sits down she adjusts the hair clip that holds her vibrant loosely curled hair so it’s off her neck. Even with the fans, the Austin heat is rampant this time of day and year almost unbearable if not taken seriously. Gia always tells Renae she’s crazy for still having her vibrant long, thick hair down or how she wears jeans a lot of the time but Renae has become accustomed to the weather by now, after living in Texas for her whole life.

“So what’s new? Give me all the ‘deets!” Renae questions as she rests her chin in her right palm, while her left hand lays on the table. Bianca’s coloring one of the kid menus that they have here while Gia starts talking about their wonderful little world.

“Well, little miss Bianca here,” she lightly pinches Bianca’s cheek before letting go, “just finished her fifth grade class and will be at the middle school next year!” Renae looks over to her and she can’t help but grin from ear to ear about her niece. Look at you lovebug, she raises her left hand causing her jumble of thin gold bracelets to slide down her arm, for a high five and Bianca returns with a slap. She then goes right back to her coloring and not really paying attention to the conversation between Gia and Renae.

“Hi, welcome to Jes’s! I’m Ariana and I’ll be your server today. What drinks can I start you beautiful ladies with?” The cheery waitress asks as stands between you and Gia with her small notepad and pen.

“Chocolate milk, please!” Bianca tells her, lifting her eyes off her menu for a second before going back to it. Alrighty, miss? Ariana nods her head towards Gia. Just a water with a lemon, thank you. Renae’s thrown off by her request, usually the two of them would get the bottomless mimosas. She cocks her head to the side at Gia, who’s now trying to avoid eye contact.

“And for you miss?”

“Uh, I’ll do a mimosa, please.”

“Perfect, I’ll be right back with those for you guys!” Then she’s off to retrieve their drinks.

“Just water? What is goin’ on?” Renae can’t help herself, she’s gotta know if something is up because the only time Gia will order only a water is when-

“Wait- are you pregnant?” She doesn’t mean for it to come out as loud as she did. Gia can’t help but laugh and nod her head at Renae’s expression. Oh my god, Renae squeals as she scoots her chair back enough for her to stand up and slide over to the other side of the table where Gia is.

Gia stands up and Renae is finally able to see the medium sized bump that she’s been hiding. “Holy fuck- congratulations!” Renae says in pure love and shock as she hugs her younger sister, “What are you having?” Renae can't get the words out fast enough before she proceeds to pay attention to her bump. Hey, little thing in there, she whispers as she lightly holds her hands over the sundress that covers her sister's growing belly.

“We’re not sure, so we decided we wanted to find out in the delivery room. Robert is excited, he’s gone out and gotten piles and piles of things for the baby - a mix of boy things, girl things, and neutral things. I almost feel like he’s more excited than I am,” Gia laughs before Renae hugs her for the last time before returning to her seat.

“How do you feel, lovebug?” Renae asks Bianca, as she dabs her waterline with the napkin, trying her best to not ruin her makeup. I can't wait to be a big sister, I’m gonna be just like you auntie! The three of them giggle amongst themselves as Ariana comes back with their drinks.

“Are we ready to order or do we need a couple more minutes?” She asks with her animated hands and voice, the three of them look at each other and agree they're ready. Bianca orders first, followed by Gia, and then Renae. Ariana tells them it should be out soon and to just wave for her if they need anything until then.

Gia and Renae get back to chatting about Gia’s life in New York and with the new baby on the way. Renae is ecstatic for the both of them; but that hidden jealousy creeps up on her even though Gia and Robert totally deserve this. She just wishes those kinds of life changing experiences would happen to her before they did with Gia, or even in Renae’s life at all.

Maybe it’s an older sister thing. Always wanting to be the first to do something special, which she did; Renae was the first one in the family to get a college degree and to become an extremely successful woman, a lawyer even. She’s highly proud of herself for believing she could do it, but there’s still something missing and with Gia having it all, it hits Renae directly and hard. But after really thinking about what exactly that something is, she gets it.

Love.

“I have to pee, I'll be right back. B, do you have to go?” Gia asks her daughter, who agrees and goes along. Renae’s left by herself, with her second mimosa in hand, she decides to chug it so she can get a little buzz to take the edge off. She wasn’t expecting to hear this wonderful news from Gia but something about it just hurts Renae’s heart.

When she swallows the last bit of the mixture of orange juice and champagne, she spots this handsome older looking man on the other side of the outdoor patio, seated and eating by himself.

The man looks disheveled, but in a hot way, and Renae feels her heart skip. His hair is curly, but messy, she wonders if the grays she observes are natural, or from a source of stress - maybe a mix of both. What really convinces her is the scraggly beard that also has grays throughout. His age lines prove her point more. The two scratch lines on the tip of his large nose catches her off guard just a bit, she’s not sure what to make of them. His bulky arms stretch out the fabric of his soft dark shirt, she can visibly see the sweat stains that are forming in his armpits while he cuts his food up and brings it to his mouth.

Renae can't stop staring. Her light green eyes won’t leave the man that sits on the other end of the restaurant, who’s simply eating. There’s just something about him that has her feeling foggy and dazed, maybe it’s the way his sharp jaw moves as he chews or the way his large hands grip his silverware and wrap around the handle of the coffee mug making them look like they’re meant for a mouse to use.

Who are you? she whispers to herself right before Gia and Bianca return from the bathroom. At the same time Ariana comes back with a tray that holds three different plates of food that is steaming hot.

—

Joel’s been to Jes’s Diner many times over the course of his life, so much that he doesn’t need to look at the menu. He gets the same thing every time; An omelet with all the fixings, a side of potatoes, two over-easy eggs, and a small side of bacon.

”No Sarah today?” Polly, the forty year old waitress asks, as she pours the black coffee into the mug that’s on the table. Polly and Joel were neighbors growing up, she was like one of the guys. So whenever Joel comes in, she gets his order.

“At school. It’s her last week as a fifth grader ‘n I don’t like it. Not ready for her to grow up ‘n leave.” He states as he grabs a packet of sugar and opens it, pouring it slowly, then picking up the silver spoon to stir the mixture. “It’s not easy, but you got this. I’m sure about it.” She chimes, trying to perk him up even just a little.

Thank you, he puts a weak smile on his face as he takes a sip of the steaming coffee, wake me up just a little bit, he thinks to himself. “I’ll be back with your food, dear.” He nods and thanks her again, taking another sip trying to jump start his head for the second time since Annie came home this morning.

While he waits for his food he does a quick overview of the patio; ten large round metal tables spaced out and about 8 of them are filled with small groups of families or women chatting amongst themselves. Then he spots her. This woman is stunning, even though his view is somewhat obstructed because of the other woman and young girl with their backs to Joel.

Her vibrant orange hair seems like it’s clipped back, but a few pieces hang in front and on the side of her face. Joel can tell she’s younger by the way she maintains herself, her eyebrows are thin but arched and her lips plump with a light red tint to them. Her skin is tan, like she was just at the beach or somewhere similar, strong thin tan lines from a bikini lace her skin. The way her eyes light up and her smile gleams in the conversation she’s having has Joel almost drooling into his coffee.

Her black tank top sticks to her skin perfectly, like it was made for her, causing her cleavage to spill out a little. He leans back in his chair a bit so he can catch a glimpse of her legs and he has to stop himself before he gets caught; light washed jeans that hug her waist, thick thighs, and calves perfectly.

Exactly his type.

Joel feels his cock grow in his pants as he continues to watch her. He shifts from in his seat and his belt buckle to try to relieve himself, then shifts his eyes back to his Home Screen on his phone that sits flat on his table, trying to think of anything other than this woman that has him feeling like a creep.

“Omelet, potatoes, eggs, and bacon for you, sir!” Polly comes back to the table and sets down his couple plates of hot food, his stomach grumbles again. Joel clears his throat and thanks her again and she’s off to work other tables.

Joel instantly dives into his omelet, eating like someone who hasn’t eaten in days - which he kind of understands, to an extent. Hopefully he won’t have to feel that way anymore, which brings him back to his fight with Annie and the divorce. He starts building a quick checklist of things that are his; The house, his truck and her car, has a full time job, all the bills are in his name - even her phone bill - and still has plenty of time for his daughter.

He shouldn’t have much of a hard time getting what he wants out of this situation, the only thing he could see is Annie trying to come after Sarah. Which Joel has a reasonable concern about because he knows first hand how bad her addictions are and that she has shown no interest whatsoever in trying to better herself. She’s simply not mentally competent to be a parent to Sarah, not even the slightest.

Joel has given her chance after chance to get help and she denies it each time. Says she’s gonna do better and actually try, but that never lasts more than two weeks, at most.

After two hours of breaking down everything and eating about ninety percent of his food, he’s finished everything but his couple strips of bacon that are left. He spots Polly walking his way so he stacks up the few plates and silverware he used and slides them to the edge of the table for her.

“Thank you, baby, you treat me so well,” she blushes, “but I wanna ask, everythin’ okay?” She points to her nose, suggesting what happened to Joel. He’s quick to dismiss it, Tommy’s kitten got me yesterday, he knows it comes off as a lie but he’s not ready to talk about his failed marriage with people. “Damn cats,” she fake laughs, catching onto his subtle warnings, “Well, here’s your check, just go up to Ben in the front and he’ll take care of you! Tell Sarah I say hi and I miss her dearly!”

“I will, dear, hope you have a good rest of ya’ day.” Joel nods his head and hands her two twenties before she picks up the dishes, you’re too kind, she smiles then starts her clean up process and she’s gone.

But before Joel stands up out of his chair he turns his head and looks for the gorgeous redhead from before, but he’s not prepared for how close she is to him. She’s a few feet away from him, her and the two others she was with are walking to the front door but they pass his table.

She’s even more beautiful in front of him; she looks to be around Joel’s height, five ten-ish, the heels make it difficult to tell. The sight of her under the table before was an absolute understatement of how she actually looks, her ass and thighs look like they could suffocate Joel - in the best way - and he can’t help but melt at the sight of her belly not being flat, she looks healthy. Proportional to her body type. Far too many women don’t have the love handles that Joel loves to grip or the plush skin he can bite into - his cock twitches again, making Joel incredibly aware of the situation.

Just wanna tear her ass apart, fuck her until she’s pleading for me to stop. Mhmm. Wonder if she likes it rough? Or if she’s a sweet little thing, who doesn’t have much experience… ‘n will let me show her a good time.

It’s quick, maybe three seconds but it feels like eternity the way they stare into one another. He’s infatuated with her and he hasn’t even spoken to her. Joel and her locked eyes, he memorizes the color; forest green with a hint of brown in the middle. He’s hit with the scent of vanilla, jasmine, and a faint smell of cigarettes, a smell that he would love to come home to everyday and take over the smell of his sawdust and sweat.

Instantly he can feel his cheeks warm and his lips curve into a dumb smile, and to his shock, she does the same thing - then she’s around the corner and gone, like an apparition.

Joel shakes his head twice, what am I doin’? He waits a minute or two for his dick to calm down, so he doesn’t make a fool outta himself, what is goin’ on? Joel can’t remember the last time he felt like this. It’s not like he doesn’t get the random moms of the neighborhood or in the PTA that flirt with him and try to be extra friendly. They’re nice and all, but he’s never been attracted to anyone other than Annie and if it wasn’t her, it wasn’t anyone.

After about five minutes of him yelling at himself in his head, he stands up and heads towards the front to pay, leaving him only eighty bucks left for the week, and heads back to his house.

Now back in his truck, only about ten minutes away from his shell of a home, he’s now back in his head about what to do. He figures the best thing tonight is to grab Sarah from school and head straight to Tommy’s. He wants to avoid as much trouble as possible because he hasn’t told Sarah anything about his decision, he just hopes he can do it before Annie manipulates the whole thing like she always does.

Pulling into the garage, he notices Annie’s Toyota gone, thank fuck. Joel for the second time today feels totally relaxed, parks his truck, takes the key out of the ignition and heads inside to shower and pack for him and Sarah. He wishes he didn’t have to do this, but he knows it’s the only way to stay separated from her because she won’t leave when asked to. That’s when the real problems begin.

As he walks into his house he’s instantly confronted with the smell of weed, it smells like it could be coating the walls. Joel never understood why she smoked in the house when they have a balcony from their bedroom and a back patio off of the kitchen. Joel doesn’t have a problem with weed, he smokes more than most people know, but he absolutely despises when Annie smokes in the house. It takes forever to get the smell out of the rooms and furniture, clothes even.

A part of him feels like she does it on purpose, because she knows that Joel is going to take care of it before Sarah gets home. So it’s almost like her form of punishment for whatever Joel did is response to her bullshit behavior.

“So much for a shower,” he grunts and begins opening all the windows and doors that have screens in them to avoid bugs getting in. He turns on any and all ceiling fans, lights some incense, and begins wiping down countertops in the kitchen - where he found his rolling tray and his weed, not hers of course.

About twenty minutes later, Joel’s alarm starts blaring on his cell phone in his back pocket, causing him to jump and drop the towel he was ringing out in the sink. He pulls it out and hits the stop button and checks the time. Two fifty five PM it says, informing him that he’s got thirty minutes to get to Sarah’s school. It usually takes at least twenty-five to get there from any of his job sites, so he gives himself plenty of time. But from the house the school is no longer than ten minutes away, which is nice, one of the main reasons why Joel picked the school - other than it’s the number one public school is his county.

Shit. He’s still gotta pick up around here and pack up her things, he really doesn’t want to come back later on. He needs to get outta here, preferably sooner than later. After double checking the house smells clean, closing all the windows and doors, he goes into Sarah’s room, which thankfully her door was shut and the only room that didn’t reek.

Joel can’t help but release a heavy breath and lean all his weight on the door, bringing his dry hands to his face and massaging his whole face in distress. He’s hit his breaking point; the lack of sleep, aggravation, disappointment, and sorrow that seep out of his skin and soul are escaping the strong man act he has to maintain.

He starts to weep into his hands as he holds himself up - he refuses to sink to the floor, he can’t bring himself to do it without feeling like a chump. Mainly because he’s breaking down in his ten year old daughter's bedroom. He’s had to keep a secret life for so long to other people, they just don’t know how bad it really is. He’s been through so much shit with Annie these past few years and he hasn’t asked for help, even though it’s been offered by Tommy and some of Annie’s friends who have come to Joel.

It used to mainly be that Joel was ashamed that he found himself and his daughter in this situation, and he didn’t want people to know his business. But now, he doesn’t care about that. He cares for Sarah and making sure she’s okay, that’s all that he needs to worry about right now.

He sighs, wiping away the tears he let slip through the cracks, and pushes himself off the door so he can grab his daughter's things. He grabs her empty soccer bag, sets it on her lavender purple bedding, and turns to her dresser and begins to grab clothes; shorts, shirts, leggings, socks, underwear, and her bathing suit. He slides over to her bathroom and grabs her toiletries that she has in a little bag in a drawer, bringing it over to the bag and zipping it up.

Joel figures they’ll stay at Tommy’s the rest of the week and all weekend. He just needs to leave the house, it’s suffocating for him to be here, too many memories - bad ones - for him to enjoy being here. Even though he’s by himself.

Takes him a shorter time to pack; his toiletries, work clothes, comfy clothes, and his bathing suit - it’s all he needs. With Sarah’s bag in one hand and his on his shoulder, he jogs down the stairs and moves to snag his keys so he can leave.

A sense of security takes over. Just knowing that he told Annie what he’s planning on doing and that Sarah is with him and not her, it’s relieving. He doesn’t have to worry about Sarah wanting to see Annie or asking questions about why, she already knows, most of it not all. He heads out to his truck and he’s on the way to grab Sarah.

With fifteen minutes to spare, he sits in the pickup line that’s full of a variety of trucks and cars waiting for their kid to come tiredly walking out. While waiting for her Joel decides to get a jump start and at least take a look online for some kind of divorce lawyer. If he’s gonna do it, he might as well start now. No backing out now.

Lawyers near me, he mumbles as he types into google, he has to scroll twice until a name sticks out to him. Without reading anything he clicks on R&R Law Firm, and he’s shocked when he sees a picture of two women and the one with red hair sticks out. It then clicks, that’s the woman from the diner.

Renae Russo.

—

Right after brunch, Renae took Gia and Bianca back to her apartment where they’ll be staying until Sunday afternoon. They’ve stayed at her place numerous times before so they know to make the place their own, and now with Frankie there Bianca has a little friend.

Renae has enough time to change out of her casual clothes and into her skin tight black dress, that covers her chest and goes to her knees, with matching black heels. She lets her curls fall from her hair clip as she teases the roots of her hair, creating volume and letting the curls loose; it’s a cute, messy but natural looking style that suits her perfectly.

“I’ll be back no later than six-thirty, love you guys!” She tells her sister and niece before she’s out the door and walking to her BMW. Shockingly, the weather calmed down a bit, it can’t be any hotter than seventy-eight or nine - way cooler than the ninety degrees it was earlier.

Traffic isn’t terrible, yet. She’s sure on her way home, it’ll be awful. It always seems like she gets caught in the worst traffic on the way home. She just can’t seem to find the right way back, she thought after ten years she would be a pro. But guess not.

Searchin’ kisses, the man she misses, the man that he longs to be.

Renae sings along to the one and only Amy Whinehouse, her favorite artist of all time. That’s her girl. It was her first concert at sixteen and Renae has been in love with her ever since then. She knows all Amy’s songs and has been to fifty percent of her concerts. Renae actually made it to her last show in twenty-eleven in Serbia, and we all know how that turned out. It was truly heartbreaking for Renae to witness and listen to, live.

So he tries to pacify her, cause what’s inside her never dies.

Suddenly her phone starts vibrating in her purse that’s sitting in her passenger seat, since she’s at a red light she reaches over and grabs it. Now more of a mumble than actually singing, she reads the name on her screen and she can’t help but smile. Her cheeks turn redder and redder, she can’t help herself from slightly biting her lip as she stares at the ten letter name.

Dominic Amaro</3

Renae’s favorite and most recent ex, the one that she just can’t let go of, but knows that she ultimately has to. After two years of dating, he had to move back to Italy to take care of his mother who became extremely ill and help with his two younger siblings, and although Renae understood completely, it doesn’t mean she wasn’t hurt by it. She saw herself marrying him, even having kids. She thought he was the one, but she was wrong.

But even after breaking up three years ago, they randomly call each other and will chat about anything and everything. Sometimes leading into phone sex… Or, quite often, if she’s honest. It’s one of the highest reasons why Renae hasn’t lost her mind completely. Dominic has the voice of an Italian man - that of a gentleman, not a mobster - his octave is low but his accent is smooth, almost like an Idris Elba, but Italian.

The traffic light switches to green as she hits the green accept button, raising the phone to her right ear as she manages to fly towards her job. Hi Dominic, she purrs with one hand on the wheel and the other on her phone, anticipating his smooth voice.

“Hi amore mio, how are you?” His voice is relaxed and Renae can tell he’s had a couple drinks, his accent is loose, not as strong as sober Dominic.

This kind of irritates her, but also not, because he can’t hold his liquor and that’s usually when a lot of their fights start, and Renae does not want to do that right now. If she was at home, she would absolutely rip into him and let him fight back - then fuck herself with her fingers while he talks her through it and strokes himself to the sound of her arousal and her deep moans.

Renae chuckles at his words as she pulls into the parking garage of her building, “Things are goin’ well, work has been busy and Gia came into town for this weekend. So I’ve been pretty happy.” She confesses, pulling into a parking spot and turning her car off, throwing her keys into her lap.

“Va meglio?” Are things getting better? Last Renae knew, Concetta had liver and kidney failure, but that was a couple months ago by now.

Before he says anything, she hears him heavily sigh and take a sip of whatever alcohol his choice is. That’s not a good sign, she mentally says while she quickly pulls her phone from her ear and looks at the time. Three twenty five. Fuck me, she mutters. Raising the phone to her ear again she hears him mumble something. What, baby? she asks him with sincerity.

She hates that she’ll have to shorten the conversation because from the context clues she’s picking up, this isn’t going to be good news. But Renae always puts her work first, which might be why she messes things up for herself - like marriage or kids. It’s just how she lives her life right now and she’s content in living with it, until otherwise she’s going to continue living this way.

To be less of an asshole than she already is, she lets Dominic vent about his mother and how she only has a little less than a year to live, and how his younger siblings are rays of sunshine but he feels terrible for them because they’re so young. Renae can’t help but feel her stomach tie into knots at the news while she walks through the parking garage and waits in the elevator. She met Concetta once when she came and visited Texas for a month, the sweetest little Italian woman ever - feisty too, Renae and her were two peas in a pod really. So even though she doesn’t have much to go on about her, Renae still feels awful for Dominic because no one, especially him, deserves to go through anything remotely similar.

“Amore,” she drags out, leaning her ass against the back wall of the elevator, “I’m sorry. I mean like, Damn- I wish you and your family didn’t have to go through this.”

“Prego, um- but the real reason I called is cause, uh“ Renae can tell he’s having a hard time getting his words across, she’s not sure if the language barrier or if he’s just struggling. Dominic’s English isn’t bad by any means, but Renae can tell after he moved back to Italy, he’s reverted back to speaking Italian all the time because of the way he speaks.

She’s now out of the elevator and on her office floor, waiting to walk into the long hallway that leads to her destination. Since she knows her office is occupied, she decides to finish her phone call. It's just something personal that she doesn’t want people to know about. Gia doesn’t even know that she’s still in contact with Dominic, not because Gia would be disappointed about it but just because Renae doesn’t want to have to explain any of this to anyone.

Another big reason she doesn’t want to bring it up is because she doesn’t even know how to break it down to herself. Renae has zero idea of what to make of the situation-ship with Dominic and she hasn’t needed a reason to. As far as she’s concerned, Dominic is just another man that she can’t let go of and she feels like he knows it.

She checks the clock on her phone one last time and she’s two minutes from being late, but there’s also no way she can just hang up on him, even if he understands that she has a client. Renae can’t help herself, she still loves him, or at least thinks she does.

“In a month I’m coming to Texas for a couple days-“

“You can stay with me!” she blurts out, and she’s not sure why she says it. Maybe it’s the desperation for some touch, a familiar one, or it’s the empathy in her that has made her feel for him. “Just send me your flight information and I’ll grab you and give you a place to stay. ‘Kay?”

A second of silence comes from the other end of the phone before he coo’s, “è così difficile non amarti…thank you.” It’s so hard not to love you.

This hits Renae directly in the heart, hard. She wishes she could jump through her phone and hug and kiss Dominic, but she can’t. This thirty-five year old man has her wishing she never lived in Texas and met Dominic in Italy, just living their happiest lives together.

“Well,” she bites her bottom lip again in a poor attempt to hide her smile, “you don’t make it easy yourself, Dominic.”

With both her shoulders occupied with bag straps, she leans her back against the wall outside two wooden doors, and stares at her pointy black heels. She hears a tiny chuckle leave his lips, she can visualize the slight pinkness that overgrows his face - much like herself.

Suddenly Rachel Yonkers - the other half of R&R Law Firm - walks out of the double doors. Causing Renae’s attention to come back full force and on her as she says, I’m headin’ out for lunch, see ya’ in a bit.

Slightly pulling the phone away from her mouth she responds, enjoy, as she smiles and waves her free hand. After the elevator doors close on Rachel, Renae’s attention is back on Dominic who correctly guesses she’s at work and then lets her go.

“Ciao, my love.”

“Ciao, Dominic.”

She hangs up and gently throws her head back until she rests on the wall with her eyes closed. What am I doing? This is gonna ruin me. He’s gonna ruin me forever. Somehow, she stops herself from falling down yet another spiral.

Throwing her phone into her purse, she takes a deep breath as she stands herself up, slightly shaking her whole body to get rid of the jitters that flow through her entire nervous system. Smoothing the sides of her black cotton dress, then swiping a strand of thick hair on her left side behind her ear, her fingers drag along the shape of her medium size hoops that hang from her ears, before walking through the double doors.

“Hi, Riley!” She chirps as she struts through the lobby of her office, head on to her assistant who’s behind her desk. Riley is fresh out of college, she has her criminal justice degree and is currently studying for her law degree - so she’s been with Renae for the past year and she told Riley this can be a permanent job for her.

“Afternoon, Ms. Russo. Jackie Cora is waiting for you!” She informs Renae as she staples a stack of papers together, setting them down on a pile.

Awesome, thank you, Renae smiles as she adjusts her black Micheal Kors purse that hangs on one shoulder and her laptop bag that hangs on the other. Her three thirty appointment is with Jackie Cora, who wants to file a PPO on her ex husband, Charlie Frey. He won’t stop harassing her with phone calls and emails about wanting to try again with her or come back to get some of his things, even though they aren’t there anymore.

Police can’t do anything other than tell him to leave while they’re present because there’s nothing legally they can do. But he hasn’t stopped since the divorce which was 5 months ago, and Renae was the one who did their divorce, so she knows how dirty and hasty Charlie is.

“Hi Jackie!” Renae chirps as she enters her office and walks to Jackie who’s sitting on the opposite side of her desk. Jackie stands up and shakes Renae’s hand, returning to welcome, then sitting down as she begins to divulge into the things that have been happening and what she wants done about it.

—

Staring at the printer, Renae’s right hand sprawls on the counter and her pointer finger taps impatiently, her nails causing a tink tink noise that echoes through her office. She glances away from the stack of papers that are slowly piling, to the clock above her and it’s been two hours since her and Jackie Cora have been together. She sighs as she goes back to the almost dead printer and she only needs one more page, which thankfully comes out with no issues.

“Here we go,” she announces as she grabs the stack of papers and turns around to bring them to Jackie. Who sits at the table surrounded by two large envelopes, her and Renae’s laptop, and Renae’s notes. “The last of your copy of things. This one is the letter that you’ll read in court on the thirtieth, so two weeks from today.”

Renae grabs the last envelope and seals the papers, then hands it over to Jackie who then collects her belongings putting them in her large tote bag. “Thank you so much Ms. Russo, god.” She stands up, her long brown hair thrown behind her shoulder as she steps to Renae and hugs her, which Renae returns warmly. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Please call me if anything escalates, please.”

After a few minutes of back and forth farewells, Renae is left alone in her office. She can finally relax, she did not realize how bad Jackie’s situation actually was. The amount of text messages and calls that she had printed out for evidence was staggering, Renae has never dealt with anything quite like this. But she has no doubt in her ability, that she’ll be able to help Jackie out - if anything it should be easy.

“Fuck, man,” she groans, throwing her curls up in a messy bun that sits on top of her head with loose strands all over - it’s more of a real messy bun than the cute, intentionally messy kind. She digs through her purse that sits underneath her desk - I need a cigarette after that fuckin’ debacle, aha - she feels the box with her finger tips and quickly snags them out.

Her mood swings instantly as she sees her Marlboro Reds in her hands. She’s not proud of it but her cigarettes are her anchors in life; always there when she needs them to. But she’s not a crazy smoker, a pack will last her four to five days a week sometimes. It’s something that works to take the edge of just a little while.

Which is exactly what she craves right now.

Phone in one hand, Marlboro Reds in the other, Renae struts to her door but just before she pulls her glass door open. Her phone on her desk rings. Motherfucker- she mumbles as she hangs her head down while shaking her head, every goddamn time.

It takes her a second before she commits to turning around and answering her phone as she plops down in her office chair. Renae Russo, she forces herself to sound light and cheery, because work comes before cigs.

“You have a call on line two, saying he wants to talk to you specifically,” Riley tells Renae, “I don’t recognize the voice at all.”

“Hmm, okay thank you, hon’.” Renae doesn’t waste any time. She’s quick to switch lines, putting the phone on speaker so she can move around freely without the problem of the cord. Pushing herself out of her chair, she stands up and leans over her desk just enough so her hands support upper body, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Good evening, I’m Renae Russo and who do I have the pleasure of speaking to right now?” Even with her voice forced, she still genuinely wants to help whoever this person is - they just happened to catch Renae at a bad time. It’s a good five seconds of silence from her black phone that she now stares at from her position.

She knows some people have a hard time reaching out to divorce lawyers, which is why she gives them a chance. Uhh, he starts before he clears his throat, Renae can hear a faint mumbling that somewhat sounds like encouragement to continue.

“Hi Ms. Russo, um. I’m Joel Miller n’ I wanna- well, need to file divorce papers against my wife. Shit, ex-wife I guess now.”

Renae is trying her best to pay attention to what Joel just said because of the way his voice flows so effortlessly, but has much effect. Most southern accents sound the same to Renae at this point, she hears it all day long, she’s gotten so good that she can guess some towns or parts of the state based on their accents alone. However she’s stuck on his, there’s something about his that has her feeling gooey and mushy on the inside. Enough for her to have to sit back in her chair, leaning back just a bit as rests her elbows on the arms of the chair and she intertwines her fingers on her belly. Trying to contain herself and hide the butterflies that dare to escape.

“‘n I need to get full custody of my ten year old daughter.”

Her stomach drops and her nerves grow larger.

“Well, Mr. Miller,” she charms, leaning forward to grab a pen and a sticky note, “It’s a good thing you called me.”

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