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bits-and-babs · 1 year

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𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐞 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Other Joel Fics: Atta Girl [10.2K], PlayBoy [3K]

Summary: A betrayal causes both you and Joel to fight for your life.

Word Count: 5.1K!

CW: In order: Horror themes. Bodies. Gory imagery, fighting infected. Wearing Joel’s clothes. Fluffiest, softest, sappiest, most tooth rotting smut. Orgasm denial. Fingering. I have been a fan of the game for YEARS, given it is the first episode of TLOU TV I am basing most of Joel’s character off game Joel. Gif credit unknown.

Tease: “… You’re not wearin’ anythin’ under that, are you?” He whispers.

The static firework-like display of spores ejecting from the corpse slumped against the opposite wall had captured your attention despite the delicate situation you found yourself in. The tendrils of fungus creep up the walls, painting them with streaks of muted peaches and reds, not unlike human flesh. It bursts from the fruiting body as violently as a bomb going off. You suppose that’s what it is, a bomb detonating slowly, killing those that breathe in the cordyceps spores.

Your gas mask sits tight on your face, digging into the skin of your nose to effectively create an airtight seal to prevent the malignant disease from entering your lungs and turning you from the inside out. Even through the dirtied visor of your mask, you can see that the corpse has fused to the ground and wall it was once sat up against, calcifying to the brick and plaster. It’s reaching its final stages of the infection: complete takeover, encroaching upon any space it can find. You didn’t doubt that in 6 months it would fill the whole room.

Despite the crawling sensation that itches across your skin at the idea of fungus creeping from your body in the cover of darkness, you couldn’t deny the morbid beauty of the scene before you. It oddly reminds you of different breeds of coral, like the kind that clings to the Great Barrier Reef. There are tan-coloured, fan-like protrusions, long strands of crimson and tubal fungi that bust directly from the chest of the deceased. Silvery dust spores glisten under the beam of your flashlight, giving the abandoned house you had entered an almost glittery effect.

“Oi. C’mon.” Your smuggling partner's Texan typically cold baritone cuts through the uneasy hush in the room. “We stand in this shithole any longer and we’ll be ambushed.”

Peering up from the putrefied body, you find Joel Miller gazing back at you, jerking his head to the door in a silent order to urge you out of the rotten room. Stepping away from the body, you walk towards the exit.

“How much longer?” You ask, studying his weary expression. The two of you had been travelling for hours, on red alert for infected or human danger alike. Outside of the quarantine zone was a death trap, and Joel always insisted you both never get too comfortable. Always be cautious.

“Half an hour tops,” Joel rumbles, holding the door open as you step through. His hands smear it with blood as you walk by, the ghost of his fingerprints leaving ribbons of crimson against the surface.

The blood had belonged to a medicine dealer called Cain. Joel had been working for him, the two of you smuggling the precious supplies into the quarantine zones in return for ration cards and weapons. You and Joel must have made ten, hell, fifteen runs for this crooked fuck, only for Cain to send the two of you on a dodgy mission. You’d both been jumped by the middlemen who were meant to hand off the medicine- when under duress, they admitted to ‘just following orders’.

It hadn’t taken you both long to find Cain and took even less time to dispatch him. Joel had taken his time and, as always, you turned your back on the shrieks of agony as Joel delivered justice. Though he had been particularly brutal this time around, the crunching of bones and cartilage was loud enough to be heard over the dying screams.

Said cries of pain and the extended period of torture had drawn the attention of several Runners and Clickers. They’d overrun the smuggling tunnels somehow, obstructing your return to the quarantine zone and safety. It had been the fight of your life, and the two of you were damn near out of ammunition and energy to battle the waves of infected.

“You okay?” You croak, almost afraid to speak into the silence between the two of you as you stumble through the darkness, navigating using only the dying light of Joel’s torch. A small reprieve from the onslaught of runners.

“Yeah,” he grunts, his eyes drifting over in your direction. “Wanna get home. Think I hurt my ankle back there, fighting the clicker.” If it hurts enough to admit it, it must be bad. Yet Joel maintains a strong pace, refusing to allow the pain to slow him down. He was stubborn like that, the two of you always arguing about his thick-headed disposition.

You nod in silence, eyes on the floor and focusing on not tripping over loose bricks despite running this smuggling tunnel with Joel for years. It was probably so familiar that you could walk it blindfolded. The walls of this small passage had seen the slow and subtle changes in the dynamics of your relationship.

It had seen the beginnings of your partnership and witnessed you constantly vying for Joel’s approval to extend the coalition you had fought so hard to convince him for. The cracks in the walls had observed the slow-growing kinship between the two of you, jokes told and three-sentence conversations shared. The shards of glass swept into the corners of the floor had heard the difficulty you both had continuing those discussions after you had stupidly gotten drunk on this old whiskey Joel had found, kissing him in the early hours of the morning when he finally carried you to bed.

That was a few weeks ago, and he still hadn’t been able to maintain eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. Like a child unable to look into his mother's eyes when telling a lie.

Grabbing ahold of the cold handle of the metal door ahead of you, you force it down to open it. The door jams on the opposite side, not moving despite putting all of your weight behind it to the point the edges of the handgrip leave a rectangular imprint in your palm.

“Joel?” You call him, “Gonna need you to open this.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he responds, the same way he always has. He steps forward, the soles of his boots scuffing the floor as he approaches.

Joel shifts his shoulder against the flat of the door, hooking the handle downwards with his calloused, bloody palm and uses his strength to push against the blockage. The hinges of the door strain under the pressure, squealing in the silence as Joel grits his teeth.

He grunts loudly, heaving the door so the obstruction falls away from the entrance, clattering to the floor with a racket that ricochets off the wall. It echoes all the way down the corridor. You freeze, the deafening sound causing the hair on your forearms to stand on end.

The chill on your skin only intensifies with the blood-curdling groans that sound from the blackness.

“Fuck-“ you stammer, Joel’s hand quick to settle between your shoulder blades to push you forward through the open door. Adrenaline courses through you like a live wire, singeing your extremities and curdling your stomach as Joel forces his way through the door and pulls the pipe from his backpack.

Amongst the panic, you still manage to note that a metal storage unit that had once been set against the wall had been tipped on its side, forcing the door shut. Joel had used it just this morning to grab ammo before heading out for the medicine drop. Someone had forced it over- didn’t take a genius to figure out who.

“Gonna have to run,” Joel pushes you forward, causing your feet to stumble as you desperately grasp for your rudimentary shiv. It slices your fingers open as you grab for it in the darkness, terror pushing your body forward in a sprint. You can hear the thudding of Joel’s boots just behind you, and the screams and wails of the infected as you chase you down the tight corridors.

It feels as though seconds and hours pass simultaneously, your lungs burning as you suck in gasps of air through your gas mask. Your muscles are seizing, cramping up and your fingers sting with the cuts that you sustained from your blade. Over the all-encompassing sound of shrieking from the creatures and your sharp, shakey inhale, you can hear Joel urging you forwards. “Go Go Go! You got it darlin’ keep goi-“

It hits you like a runaway freight train at top speed. Thundering into you, a Clicker knocks you from your feet with an utterly horrifying scream. Pain shoots up your ribcage as you slam into the uneven floor, a discarded glass bottle shattering beneath your body and cutting into you. You’re scrabbling with the beast, its nails digging into your flesh as you stab blindly at its shoulder, your other palm on its sternum to hold it away from your throat while you scream for Joel.

“Joel, fuck!” You sob in fear, the clickers jaws gnashing at your exposed jugular, growling and snapping. In the pitch blackness, you can smell the damp, mouldy scent weeping from the fungus on its skin, the metallic, bloody twang of human meat on its tongue that wafts over your face as it heaves its breath onto you.

Your biceps scream under the strain of its weight as you feel the fungal growths on its face lightly brush at your throat as the creature goes in for the kill. Just as you feel its teeth skim your flesh, a sickening crunch sounds, and a hot splatter of viscous blood drenches your face as Joel removes the blade of the shiv he had plunged into its skull.

“Fuck, y’alright?” His gruff voice shouts over the din the approaching runners make from down the hall. He doesn’t really give you the chance to answer him, grabbing ahold of your hand and wrenching you out from underneath the limp body of the Clicker before pulling you along in a sprint.

You sob with relief as you both turn the corner to the exit. Joel wastes no time, running ahead to force the door open so it’s ready when you approach. It swings open so easily as if it senses your desperation, and you launch yourself into the safety of the building that serves as an entrance to the tunnel. Joel isn’t far behind, slamming the door shut on the hoard and bolting it shut with a thick wooden plank that you’d both been using as a stopper.

The room swims, the image of the door swirling in your vision as you lean your back against the wall, taking deep, heaving breaths in what both was an attempt to feed oxygen back to your lungs and also to alert your body to the fact you were alive.

You barely have a moment to thank God when Joel is on you in an instant.

“Good Christ,” he heaves his gas mask off his face, blood-soaked palms taking ahold of your chin as his deep, earthy irises flit over you, searching for damage with a panicked expression. You note it’s the longest he’s looked at you in weeks. “Sure you’re okay? Jesus fuck, I thought-“

He’s twisting your head from side to side, checking your throat for bites. The infected are pounding on the secured metal door, but the noise is drowned out, faded as you watch Joel tend to you. You like him this close, you can see the freckles under his eyes. You’re not sure whether it’s the adrenaline of survival or if there was a crack in your mask and the spores had driven you crazy, but you are almost certain that Andromeda lies somewhere within the constellation of the minute spots of melanin.

“Joel,” you whisper, breathless for a whole other reason than the fact you just fought for your life, “Joel, I’m okay.”

You watch your partner hesitate for a moment, checking over you one last time before setting his lips in a firm line, his panicked eyes growing protective in an instant. “Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that again. Y’hear?”

Cross-legged in Joel’s bathtub, hours after escaping the tunnels, you use rainwater and a sponge to scrub the Clicker blood from your skin. Even now, years after the outbreak, you found yourself silently pining to the walls in the bathroom for hot, running water. They were no genie, and never responded to your wishes, but your wordless complaints often made you feel better as you scrubbed cold water over your body.

The droplets are tinted maroon as they run down your legs, seeping down the drain beneath you as you meticulously work each disgusting patch of blood from your skin. Despite telling Joel that the Clicker hadn’t bitten you, it still came as a palpable relief to scrub away the grime and not see a single mark in the crescent shape of teeth anywhere.

You did, however, have some brutal cuts across your ribs from falling into the glass bottle in the tunnel. They’re like lightning slashes, open and sore as you run a fresh washcloth over the wounds. At the very least, they were superficial and didn’t need stitches. The last thing you needed was to be burdensome right now.

Stepping out of the bath, you wrap yourself in a towel, scrubbing at your face with your sore hands. At least the slices on your fingers from your blade had stopped weeping blood. You’re sore, and mildly damaged, but otherwise alive. Alive. The proof is in the reflection that stares back at you when you glance in the bathroom mirror. Though- you certainly look as though you had just stared death in the face.

You open the door of the bathroom slowly, tentatively stepping into Joel’s bedroom. He’s sitting on the bed, slowly easing his boot from his sore ankle with a hiss of complaint. It does look painful, swelling until the definition in the bone was encroached upon by inflammation, and you have no doubt it’s been throbbing with pain inside his boot the entire journey back home.

“I think you’ll need to take a break for a while,” you gently urge Joel from your place in the doorway, who nods simply in return. Yes, he was stubborn, sometimes downright pigheaded, but he would never be stupid enough to go outside hindered by an injury. There were more than enough ration cards to tide you both over until Joel was fit enough to do another run safely.

“You can- uh, grab some’a my clothes from my closet, if you need,” he rumbles, moving to untie the boot on his other foot and avoiding your gaze. “Don’t want you to have’ta put your clothes back on. They’re covered in clicker brains.”

“Thanks, Joel,” you whisper, despite the shiver of disgust that runs down your spine. Slowly padding your bare feet across his wooden floor, you approach his closet. All of the shirts and flannels he owns are thread-bare, soft to the touch from wear. You grasp at a grey and black flannel, dropping the towel to the floor as you pull the comfortable clothing over your head.

Joel is silent, his back turned to you as you dress. Perhaps it’s from years of knowing him, or it’s seeing how tight the muscles of his back are through the fabric of his shirt, but you know something is amiss. The discontent rolls off him in waves.

Wordlessly, you climb onto the mattress, approaching Joel from behind. He seems to tense up further, even if momentarily before his muscles ease again. You stay seated firmly behind him, just outside of his peripheral vision as you attempt to breach the topic of conversation in a way that the stubborn mule of a man won’t shut down.

“Is it the pain?” You ask delicately, voice soft as a feather as you watch him feel his swollen ankle with the tips of his fingers.

“No. No, it ain’t, I just-“ he exhales sharply, as though he’s urging the words from his mouth, expelling them from his lungs. “No I just really thought that I’d lost you for a minute there, ‘n’ I just…” He trails off, leaving the unspoken words to admit what he couldn’t.

That he couldn’t bear to lose you.

You nod slowly, despite knowing he can’t see you, as the realisation sets in. He cares about you more than he shows, more than he lets on.

Softly, you lay your palm against his back, between his shoulder blades. In the low light of the bedroom, Joel’s silver hairs gleam as he turns his head around to look at you. You feel his nerves before you see them, feel the shaky exhale he lets out against your hand.

“I’m still here,” you whisper to him, capturing his gaze as you attempt to bring him down from the fear that must have seized him. You drag your palm down his back slowly, and in turn, he leans his body towards you at an achingly slow pace. Your stomach is doing somersaults thanks to the way he gazes at you, watching the nervous trail of your tongue over your lower lip.

“I know,” he answers back, his gruff voice so much softer sounding in this fragile moment. He inches towards you, and you can see the fine creases in the edges of his eyes, the constellations of his freckles even in the limited lighting. “I know I just-… Wanna feel it.”

It’s almost as though there’s a static moment, fizzling in the air as the tip of his nose brushes yours. He parts his lips softly, ghosting them over your own in a touch CW that’s barely there but sets your blood ablaze. His breath, exhaled through his nose, tickles your red-hot cheeks and you grip onto his t-shirt until your knuckles turn white. You wait for the plunge, for the powder keg of your heart lodged between your ribs to burst with his kiss.

Cautiously, Joel touches his lips to yours in a kiss that sparks up your spine. His lips are slightly chapped, his moustache and beard scraping gently against your skin as you lean into the kiss, letting out a soft moan of relief.

Your fingertips are tingling as you brush them up Joel’s neck, cupping his face to hold him there. He’s so gentle with you, like he’s afraid you’ll turn to dust in his hands. Joel has lived the past 20 years surviving, trying so desperately to stay alive. You’re not sure what that meant for him- the horrid things he had to do- but in this moment he’s so delicate with you, his knuckles brushing across your jaw as if those same fingers hadn’t squeezed triggers for two decades.

Working your own fingers into his curls, you feel the vibrations of Joel’s moans against your lips. It isn’t overtly sexual, it’s as though it’s a sound of comfort- of appreciation for being shown some tenderness. He responds to your touches by tracing his tongue over your lower lip, deepening the kiss and pulling you closer.

“Joel,” you whisper against his open mouth. He’s panting softly, hands moving to your hips to hold you in place like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. “Joel, lay back.”

“… Yes Ma’am,” he murmurs, a hint of a smile spreading against your lips. You find yourself relieved he didn’t argue, finding this nerve-wracking enough. It’s as though the two of you are inexperienced teenagers, fumbling with each other and fighting the butterflies in your guts. As brutal as the world you both fought to survive in was, there’s an innocence settling between you, nervous laughs shared as Joel lays back slowly against the pillows.

He gazes back at you as the crown of his head settles, holding his breath as he awaits your next move. Swallowing thickly, you watch Joel’s hand slowly reach for your knee. He swirls his thumb in uneven circles over your patella, gently coaxing you out of your shell. “You good, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” You whisper breathlessly, the soft and innocent touch leaving tingles in its wake. “Yeah ‘m fine.”

Joel, the hardened bastard that he is, doesn’t give much away. However, you see the edge of his lips lilt upwards at your less-than-convincing answer sliding his palm up the bare skin of your thighs. His hands are warm, calloused from hauling ass across the country and slicing open Clicker throats to protect you.

Swallowing thickly, you loop your thigh over his hip to straddle his waist. He watches you, his dark lashes dipping low as he witnesses you seat yourself across his abdomen. As you sit, the leather of Joel’s belt bites into the soft skin of your flesh.

“… You’re not wearin’ anythin’ under that, are you?” He whispers. It’s less of a question than it is a statement, those dark, mahogany eyes gazing up at you with a knowing expression. It’s intimidating, and you find yourself unable to answer with anything other than a slow shake of your head.

Joel responds with a low chuckle, tutting slightly as he brushes his palms further up your legs. They disappear under the worn fabric of his flannel, settling against your hip bones as his fingertips brush the curve of your bare ass.

Ever the gentleman, Joel stills his movements there and awaits your next orders, his eyelids heavy. You let a shaky breath escape your lips despite trying so hard to appear cool and collected, and you can practically feel the amusement emanating from the man beneath you.

Taking control, you trace the hem of Joel’s shirt and ease your fingers beneath it. Again, he’s warm to the touch, a human bonfire. It reminds you of the same level of comfort, the heat of the flames licking the skin of your cheeks in the cold autumnal air and providing relief from the numbing chill.

You don’t rush this, dragging the shirt from his body achingly slowly. Scars litter Joel’s skin, silver against the melanin. Sometimes large, wide and brutal across his ribs, others small and circular, barely noticeable. You notice them. You love them all.

Joel lifts his arms for you to raise the fabric over his head, and you reward him by pressing gentle kisses to the exposed skin of his neck. He hums softly at the gentle touches of your lips, his fingertips squeezing into the soft flesh of your hips. You’re almost certain he can feel the way you’re smiling.

“Mhm, Darlin’” he grumbles softly, using his hold on you to slowly grind your hips down over the soft flesh of his stomach, angled perfectly. It causes you both to stutter to a halt, your own pause caused by the spark of arousal that blooms through your abdomen at the friction to your clit.

Joel slowly uses one of his hands to grab the back of his flannel that you wear, sitting you up. His irises are inky black as he looks up at you, startling you into submission. Stoic, he says nothing, but looks pointedly down at his stomach to divert your attention. Uncertain, you follow his gaze.

It’s utterly mortifying. Across the tanned, freckled skin of his stomach is a silvery-pink scar. Following the same direction, a wet steak of your slick traces where Joel had pushed your hips down onto him. Shock and humiliation flood you all at once.

“Oh my God, Jo-! I’m so sorry-,” you stammer quickly, but Joel is grabbing ahold of the collar of his flannel with both hands, using very little of his impressive strength to pop the buttons on the stupid thing. The buttons go flying, rattling as they roll across the wooden floor and banging as they ping off the wardrobe. He exposes your breasts to his eyes, drinking in the view like he does whenever he sees a beautiful sunset while smuggling across the state. He stops and stares and takes it all in, just like he does with you.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about,” he insists, not allowing you to feel embarrassed a moment longer as he uses his grip once again to push your hips against him. Perhaps it’s the shock of his unfiltered satisfaction, or the arousal he draws from you once again, but you don’t find yourself fighting with him. Instead, you lean your head back as he directs your body exactly where he wants it, pushing your cunt against him and drawing delicious swirls of pleasure throughout your abdomen.

“That’s it Darlin’. Just relax,” he murmurs, clearly pleased as you begin to match his movements by rolling your hips along with his touch. Your palms rest against his muscular pectorals, nails digging in whenever he catches your clit just right. Sometimes he hisses in pain, sometimes he groans in delight.

The muscles of your thighs clench against his waist as the walls of your cunt flutter around nothing. Your jaw is slack, your mouth falling open as you crease your brows together and feel the surge.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel curse, the gravel of his voice tipping you ever closer, “I can feel your pulse.” He sounds incredulous.

“D-Don’t-“ you gasp, teetering on the edge of an utterly devastating orgasm. Your eyes are squeezed shut, focusing on that feeling that barely holds the seams of your soul together when he shocks you completely, using his strength to lift your hips from him just as your release bubbles up.

A sound of utter anguish reaches your ears, and it takes a moment for the pulse of your heart in your ears to subside before you realise it came from you. Joel is chuckling, kissing your trembling hands in an uncharacteristically soft move. Though- you suppose all of this is out of character.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel chastises you gently, in an almost mocking tone. He’s enjoying seeing you fall to pieces for him, even if it is just because you look so pretty over him. “I want you to look at me. Want to see it in your eyes when you cum.”

“Joel,” you wail, in utter disbelief as he shakes his head at your complaint. He’s not listening. Instead, he draws tight circles on the inside of your thigh. His touch is wet, your slick drenching the inside of your legs and showing how desperate you are if your impassioned whining wasn’t enough to convince him of your need to come undone.

“Listen here, Darlin,” he orders in that same tone he uses when on supply runs, the kind that makes you warm and fuzzy, “I ain’t gonna ask you to do nothin’ for me. Want you to feel good. The least you can give me is that pretty face.”

You swallow again, like you’re parched and only he can quench your desperation. Silently, in bitter defeat, you resign to a nod.

“Yeah?” He urges, wanting to hear you say it.

“Yeah,” you choke out.

“Good girl.”

Again, you moan out like you’re in pain, Joel rewarding your vulnerability by slowly slipping two fingers into your drenched cunt. You’re so worked up, so slick he doesn’t need to open you up. Your cunt takes the intrusion of his digits greedily, and your thighs begin to shake at the intense relief it grants you.

Agonisingly slowly, Joel eases his fingers out of you before plunging them back in. He doesn’t need to go fast, the drawn-out drags of his fingertips against the walls of your cunt enough to work up your arousal, but you know that he’s setting this pace to watch the micro-expressions on your face.

Your brows pinch together, and your lips form subtle shapes that indicate his technique is working. He’s watching your pupils dilate, your nostrils flare as you inhale sharply when he touches that spot inside you that makes your vision go fuzzy.

“Joel,” you wheeze, the dexterity of his fingers driving you very quickly to the precipice of something soul-shattering. The pads of his finger focus on that spot that makes your body tremble, and you’re sobbing above him, tears streaking your face. “Oh God, Joel, I can’t last-“

“It’s okay,” he urges you, so calm that he almost appears lazy as he curls his fingers inside you. “You know what to do.”

The bastard hurls you over the edge of the cliff he’s built for you, pushing the pad of his thumb against your clit. The most intense burst of pleasure explodes beneath your skin, streaming through your blood vessels as your body crumbles inwards. You’re not sure if he’s even circling your clit, if he’s moving his fingers because it’s so visceral that you can’t see, can’t hear, don’t experience anything other than the liquid heat that drips through you.

When you come to, Joel is humming softly, stroking his palm over the back of your head and easing you down from the clouds he sent you to with a gentle touch. You’re lying across his chest, his arms seemingly having pulled you against him during your blinding relief. You’re sticky with sweat, as though you’re coated in honey.

Joel smells like the apocalypse. Like earth and mud that has been wet with rain. The sharp smell of gunpowder clings to his skin, having coated the shirt he wore only minutes before. There’s the musk of his sweat, the tang that sticks to his skin despite the rain that you had walked home in after leaving the tunnels. It had washed away the smell of the blood and the grime but left every part of Joel.

“Oh fuck,” you choke out, and Joel can’t help but chuckle at the way you sound so fucked out. He presses a gentle kiss to your temple as he soothes your aching muscles from their contractions.

The rise and fall of his chest ease you down from your heightened state of shock, and your partner slowly peels the destroyed flannel from your skin. The thin bed sheets float across your body to give you some privacy, Joel wanting you to feel comfortable and respected despite him utterly destroying you literally moments before.

“That good, mhmm?” It’s said with Joel’s typically flat intonation, but you know he’s amused.

“Shut up Joel,” you whisper, still breathless. God, had he just stolen the air from your lungs? It’s as though every functioning part of your body has stalled, taken up entirely with bliss.

“Hell, you’re stubborn,” he mumbles, and it’s like he puts a spark up your ass, body jolting into action.

“Excuse me?! I’m stubborn-?!”

END

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spaceshipellie · 9 months

Text

everything’s about you to me

ellie williams x reader

prologue (masterlist for other parts) *✧･ﾟ: wc: 1.7k

summary: in the midst of the apocalypse, you and ellie find each other after you’ve both lost everything. what started out as a mere safety in numbers pairing, turns into something imperishable. however, after some time you get separated, leaving you both to believe the other is dead. four years later you find a commune in wyoming.

warnings: set in tlou universe. reader is 16 in the prologue but is 19+ for the rest of the story, weapons, gunshots, death, violence, no mention of ellie yet but all in due course cuties, is this going to be a slow burn? maybe… 18+ mdni

author’s note: this fic was originally inspired by the song everything by muna. i’m so excited for this, if you want to be added to the tag list lmk! i have no idea how many parts this will be but i expect it’ll be quite long. thanks for reading loves <3

♪ ‘cause the world could be burning, and all i’d be thinking, is “how are you doing, baby?”

˚ · • . ° .

You didn’t know it yet, but your time in the Pittsburgh QZ was wearing thin. You had lived there your entire life, sixteen years to be exact. For people who lived pre-outbreak, a military-controlled quarantine zone probably didn’t seem like much of a home, but it was all you knew. Your dad was a smuggler and whilst for the past few years had managed to keep you and your mom out of it, his current job was proving to be riskier than originally anticipated.

“You said it would be quick,” you heard his seething whisper whilst you backed yourself against the other side of the wall, listening in.

“It was supposed to be! look, man, I’m sorry,” another man’s voice said.

“Just–fuck, just make sure we get the stuff we need before we hand anything over, alright?”

“We’ll try.”

“No,” you could hear shoving, “you will, understand?”

“Yes,” you could tell the man was nervous despite trying to hide it.

“If this goes wrong, they’ll come after us, and my family. I know this is a fucked up situation and I should never have got involved with that fucking Aaron guy in the first place but here we are and I am not letting my wife and daughter die because of me, got it?”

Die? Your blood ran cold wondering what on earth your dad had gotten involved with this time. You heard the man mumble out a “yes” before the door shut and your dad sighed and banged his fist against the table. Not wanting to get caught, you creeped back to your room.

Once inside, you settled into the beat-up armchair that you had pushed against the window and stared out at the night sky. Stars twinkled and the moon shone a bright white. For a moment, you could pretend you were somewhere else. Somewhere where everything looked this beautiful. It was a stark contrast to the withered frame of dust and peeling paint.

You could hear muffled voices coming from your parent’s room. They sounded like they were arguing and said something about talking to this Aaron guy on the radio. They did that a lot these days. argue. You knew they still loved each other but after silently analysing their relationship over the years, you could see that something of a ‘spark’ had gone. Then again, what did you know, it’s not like you had ever been in love. The closest you had ever gotten to a connection with anyone had been with Amy. When her hair would get caught in her mouth as you both stood on a roof laughing at how the wind parachuted your coats, you wanted to reach out and untangle it for her. Sometimes she would give you this look where her eyes would soften and her dimples would make themselves known as she smiled. It would make your heart skip a beat and you would forget what you were supposed to be doing. You guessed that’s just how best friend’s felt about each other. Completely lost in a trance, you didn’t notice the sound of thundering footsteps down the hall until a rough hand grabbed your arm.

“What?”

“We’re leaving,” your dad’s voice was indignant and stern.

“Leaving? where?”

Your mom burst through the door, her face soaked in fear.

“Charlie, please,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry but we have to go.”

“Go where?” you demanded. You could feel the goosebumps raise on your arms. He couldn’t be talking about escaping, could he?

“We’re leaving the QZ. Come on, grab your stuff.” You just froze.

“Come on!” he yelled before running a hand over his face. He collected his anger just enough to look you in the eye and speak clearly.

“I don’t have time to explain, but some guys have fucked me over and it is safer for us to escape and leave.”

“But we’ll be killed!”

“We will be if we stay here. Now please, grab your stuff.”

His last three words came out with a bite and you thought better of arguing further. You looked across the room to your mum and she made a poor attempt at giving you a comforting look. Tears stung against your waterline and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve before grabbing your things together. Not everything of course. Not the Thelma and Louise poster you found once or the sketch Amy had drawn of the two of you before she died. But the essentials. Torches, jackets, guns, knives.

Your dad looked out the window, making a mental note of military whereabouts, before encouraging you and your mum out the door. You didn’t want to leave. You had never been outside the QZ and had only heard horror stories. Thoughts of where you would go once you got out, if you got out, clouded your mind. It scared you to think of what kind of trouble your dad had gotten himself into that needed such drastic action. You knew he did bad things but you knew he wasn’t the only one and there wasn’t much you could do about it. When he first started smuggling you had been afraid all the time, but over the years you became numb to it. That’s just what he did. But now all of those fears were resurfacing and you weren’t ready to face the high chance that you could die tonight.

The three of you were pressed against the outside wall, your dad in front holding his finger to his lips indicating you needed to be quiet. Your parent’s both held guns whilst you clutched your switchblade. It was dark but blinding lights from patrolling tanks occasionally illuminated the dank alleyways.

“We need to get over there, we move on my signal,” you could barely hear your dad’s whisper as he pointed at a metal fence on the other side of the road. You tried your best to be silent but couldn’t help the way your breath shook as you nodded.

After peering around the corner once more, he lifted his hand up, signalling for you to follow him. You had to be agile in order to make it across safely, which luckily was a strength of yours. You may not have ever been outside of the QZ but you had snuck around with Amy enough times to know how to go unnoticed. This was nothing like that though. Sneaking around and being teenagers didn’t feel like a death sentence.

You bumped into your mom’s back as you all suddenly stopped behind a parked truck. It started to rain and you were thankful that the splatters of water might cover up any sounds of laboured breaths and footsteps from you. A bright light casted over the truck as you strained to keep your head below the window. You were moving again and the fence was in sight. The closer you got the more you could make out a chained padlock on a gate. A menacing sign saying “UNAUTHORISED EXITS FROM A QUARANTINE ZONE ARE PUNISHABLE BY DEATH” was hung up next to your heads. Your palms began to sweat as your dad pulled a key from his pocket. You didn’t even want to know what he must have done to get that. He started to unlock and unwind the chains from the gate. You were so close. Maybe this insane plan would actually work.

“Drop your weapons.”

You all froze and slowly turned, initially to squint as a torch shone directly in your eyes. After a few blinks, your vision cleared to see a guard holding up a gun. You felt like you were choking and if anything the grip on your knife tightened instinctively.

“I said drop your weapons.”

You threw your switchblade to the ground. Your parent’s followed suit with their guns. The guard took a step closer.

“Let me exp–,” your dad attempted to reason but was cut off.

“On your knees and put your hands on your head.”

You glanced at your mom and she hesitantly nodded. You sunk to your knees, the cold, wet gravel soaking through your jeans to your skin. Your hands trembled as you placed them on your head. The guard, still aiming his gun at you, checked you all with the infection scanner before stepping back to his original spot.

“Sir, I’ve got three clean but armed people here by gate three. How would you like me to proceed?” he spoke into his handheld transceiver.

“Uh-huh… yes… yes sir.”

Before you could even think, two deafening gunshots went off in quick succession. Your head snapped round and you saw your dad pointing a gun at the guard, as well as a mass of blood soaking his shirt. You noticed the guard stumble and in a blind rush of adrenaline you snatched your switchblade from the floor. Your mom’s hand grabbed you, pulling you back from where the guard was aiming his gun again.

Another bullet fired. Your mom screamed. You grabbed her arm to support her and looked up at your dad for help.

“Go!” he yelled, firing again. You could hear more guards charging towards you.

“Dad,” your voice came out weak and strangled.

“I said go!” you had never heard his voice be this frightening. Fear carried your legs as you pushed your mom through the open gate. You shoved yourself through it as well, not knowing what lay ahead in the darkness before you. You could only focus on getting away from the constant gunshots. You didn’t stop moving but your movements had slowed as you looked back.

“Dad, please!” you yelled, tears making your cheeks hot.

He was being pushed against the fence by three, maybe four faceless guards. You could hear the struggle in his distant grunts as he fought against them. They were beating and shooting until his body went limp on the ground, next to the guard he shot.

“No,” your voice was a mere whisper to yourself. Shock and disbelief ringing in your ears.

“We have to go,” your mom pulled you away, she was crying too, “before they catch up to us.”

You both frantically ran whilst the adrenaline was still controlling you. Your mom groaned with each step. You didn’t even know where she had been hit but at least she was alive. You had got out and there didn’t seem to be anyone chasing you, but your dad was dead. Escaping seemed so futile now. It had been his idea. his plan. His doing that meant you needed to leave in the first place and yet it had ended like this. And now, to no avail, you had no protection. Nothing except what you carried on your back. You were out in the big wide world. A big, wide, terrifying world.

*✧･ﾟ: taglist: @bellasfavelesbo @ximtiredx @abbyily @heartzjules @gold-dustwomxn @sawaagyapong @aouiaa @pinkigirl @nil-eena @ucannotcompare @cherriesxinthespring @blvebanisters

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writerslittlelibrary · 4 months

Text

I'll protect you

masterlist apocalypse au masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3

summary: infected had been roaming the earth for years, and you, being born after the outbreak, just had to be special. what happens when a certain redhead finds out about your secret? (based on tlou part 2)

pairing: Natasha x teen reader

warnings: angst, guns, fighting, injuries

genre: angst

words: 5223

a/n: finally the apocalypse au is here!!! I’m pretty sure I’ll just make this a compilation of one shots rather than an actual story, but we’ll see :)

(reader is basically Ellie, just with some big twists ��)

(If you played tlou part 2, but haven't seen any mcu movies, it is still totally possible to read this fic, as Natasha will just be an unknown character for you. If you've seen the mcu movies, but haven't played tlou part 2, it might be a bit more confusing)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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Natasha walked through the streets, her gun in her hand, ready to shoot anything and anyone that would dare come her way. She had been in Seattle for a while, and even though the streets were destroyed due to the bombings, a lot of the building were still standing. They were probably fragile and looked extremely unstable, but they were still there.

She carefully entered an apartment building, scared to get either jumped by Scars or Wolves again. She had run into both of them before, and she wasn’t much of a fan.

Her shoulder still hurt from the arrow that Scar shot her with…

After going up the floors slowly, ensuring the hallways and rooms were clear, she found a stable, and somewhat clean looking room almost all the way at the top. The stairs were blocked, keeping her from going further up, and keeping others from being able to sneak up on her.

The only entrance to the floor was the stairway, and that was exactly how Natasha liked it.

She checked the room one more time before setting her backpack down next to a sleeping bag on the floor.

She checked the sleeping bag over, and it didn’t take long for her to realise it had recently been slept on. She reached for her gun immediately, keeping it close to her, and she searched through the room for supplies or a bag of any kind.

It didn’t take long before she found one. An army green bag was stashed into a small hole under the desk. It was obvious someone tried their best to hide it.

Natasha looked through the bag, finding nothing that she didn’t already have. Once she checked the smaller compartment, her heart stopped for a second. She had found a stuffed animal. The bag belonged to a child…

Natasha dug through the bag a little better, finding an old, damaged notebook. It had clearly been used a lot, and Natasha admired the artwork as she flipped through the pages.

“Drop it,” a voice behind her suddenly said, and Natasha could hear a gun being loaded. She carefully laid the notebook down, raising her hands and turning around to face to gun. Turning around to face you. You were just a child…

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Walking around the city was boring, especially because you had to stay hidden and on the look-out for Scars and Wolves. Moving around the city was a lot harder and went a lot slower with those guys around.

You had met some of the Wolves years ago, when they still called themselves the Fireflies and were on some holy mission to make a cure for all of humanity.

You never bought their shit, and even though you grew up in a QZ, close to a Firefly nest, you never believed for even a second that a cure could ever be made. That was, of course, until you got bitten, and you survived.

You had tried to get out of the QZ, wanting to leave the quarantine zone and explore the world by yourself. You hated living in the QZ. It may have been safe, but it was far from ideal.

When you left, you had to go past hundreds of soldiers, making your escape a whole lot more difficult. Luckily you had always been good at sneaking around, being quiet and not making a sound.

Once you were out of the QZ, it didn’t take long before you ran into a hoard of infected, and when you managed to only kill a few, due to your bullets running out, you had tried to run, fighting off any infected that came at you with your knife. You were pretty successful, apart from the fact that one of the Clickers had managed to bite your arm.

You were upset to say the least, and frustrated that you had been so stupid to leave a safe place for some idiot adventure. You spend what you thought was your last two days in an apartment you found.

You didn’t want to turn, but you were out of bullets and you were to afraid to kill yourself with your knife, so you didn’t, instead settling on just waiting it out.

After waiting two or three days, you still hadn’t turned, and after inspecting the bite, you settled on the fact that it had not gotten worse over the days. The infection seemed to have stopped, and even though you were confused, you didn’t really question it.

After travelling around on your own for a while, you were found by a group of Fireflies, who, during a medical check-up you had no say in, discovered your bite mark.

They locked you up, performing all kinds of tests to make sure you were still sharp and alert. Eventually, after about a week, they settled on the idea that you were not going to turn, and that you could be the answer to making a cure.

You didn’t really know what that meant, and you didn’t really care as you were finally allowed to get out of the chains and go to an actual room.

Occasionally, Fireflies would enter your room to perform some more tests, taking your blood and asking follow up question on what exactly happened, and what you did after you were bit. You didn’t really bother to question them, because if you were actually the key to making a cure, you would want nothing more than your life to mean something.

You were only 12 when you got to the Fireflies, and you hadn’t met a single Firefly that was around your age. That was, until a 16-year-old girl snuck into your room.

Her name was Abby, and she told you she was the daughter of the doctor who could make a cure. She became your best friend, and she was there for you when the Fireflies announced you had to go into surgery. Dr. Anderson assured you everything would be fine, and after the surgery a cure would exist.

What he failed to mention, however, was that making a cure would cost you your life.

You didn’t know that, of course, nor did Abby, as she walked with you to the operating room, trying to help calm your nerves.

You were scared, and you didn’t really had a good feeling about the situation, but you didn’t really bother to question it, knowing the only goal the Fireflies had was to make a cure. They wouldn’t endanger your life, would they?

It was Abby who killed her own father that day. It was Abby who got you out of that hospital. It was Abby that helped you run as the Fireflies hunted you down.

No one knew it had been Abby, except for you, and her father as he laid dead on the floor of the surgery room.

Abby found out you wouldn’t survive the surgery, and she had asked the other Fireflies if you knew that. They lied and told Abby you did, and that you were still okay with it. Abby knew you better then that, and she knew you would never lay down your life for the possibility of making a cure.

When Abby discovered you weren’t the first immune person the Fireflies had tried to make a cure with, she was furious, knowing you were just another experiment to them. You weren’t going to survive the surgery, and the chance of making a cure was near to zero.

And so, Abby had made the hard call to try and safe you, even if it meant going against her own father to do so. She had told him to let you go, but he threatened her, saying the surgery was the only hope humanity had left. It was one of the hardest things Abby had ever done, but she was determined to safe your life.

After you two had left the hospital, she drove you far away from it, heading for Seattle.

You two stayed in Seattle for a while, but it didn’t take long until you were kidnapped by the main group inhabitating it.

The Wolves.

The Wolves had tried to get you on their side, but you simply refused, all the while Abby was pretty quickly convinced with everything they were offering. They had food, apartments, safe places to stay and work, and even schools.

Abby had tried everything to get you to stay, but you had simply refused, saying you were afraid they’d find out about your immunity and they’d try to kill you to.

You simply didn’t trust them, and so, you and Abby went separate ways.

You were 14 when you found Jackson, a town not to far from Seattle. They had taken you in and cared for you, and when Joel found out about your immunity while seeing you breathe spores on patrol, they hadn’t tried to kill you.

Joel, Tommy and Maria were the only ones that knew about your immunity, and they kept it a secret as they helped you hide it.

Joel helped you when you tried to hide the bite with a chemical burn, and a girl from Jackson had given you a tattoo to cover that scar. You were pretty happy with how it turned out. It was safe and hidden, not to mention it looking absolutely badass.

When you were 15 and a half, someone in the town had information of trading with an outsider group. They told you they wanted information on one of their deserters, and when you heard it was about a blonde, muscular woman around 20, you knew you had to go look for her. Abby was there when you needed her, and now you wanted to return the favour.

That’s how you ended up in Seattle, staying in the apartments high of the grounds, away from the floods and the Wolves and you avoided the Scars high up in the air.

You had been in Seattle for a least 6 months now, and you were yet to find Abby, although you were certain you were getting closer. You had gotten multiple leads of the scars looking for a woman that fit her description.

What on earth had Abby gotten herself into this time? Not only the Wolves, but the Scars were looking for her as well.

That’s how you ended up in this position, gun pointed at the red-headed woman as she stood there with your stuff in her hands.

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“What are you doing here?” you demanded, and Natasha tried her best to give you a reassuring smile. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise,” she explained, but you kept the gun pointed.

“I don’t mean you any harm. Do you think you can put the gun down?” Natasha asked you, but you just shook your head.

“How did you find this place?” you asked her, keeping the gun pointed at her head.

“I just stumbled across it-”

“Did the Wolves send you?” you interrupted her, and Natasha looked confused for a second before realising you must’ve ran away from the Wolves. She shook her head.

“I swear I was just passing through, looking for a place to stay for the night,” she explained, carefully taking a small step closer. “You can trust me, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured you, but you were careful to believe her.

“Why on earth should I believe you?” you asked her, yet Natasha merely shrugged.

“I’m not a Wolf, and my face isn’t covered in scars,” Natasha reasoned, and you looked her over before slowly lowering you gun, keeping it loaded just to be sure.

“I’m Natasha,” Natasha said as she slowly lowered her hands. “What’s your name?” “y/n” you told her, and Natasha smiled at you. “That’s a beautiful name. How long have you been here?” she asked, and you merely shrugged.

“I dunno. I don’t care. I’m just passing through,” you said, repeating what Natasha had said just now, and watching as a smirk formed on her face.

“Just passing through huh? You seem to be on incredibly high alert for someone who’s just passing through. Why would the Wolves have send me? Are they looking for you?” Natasha pushed, wanting to know what you could possibly be doing in one of the most dangerous cities she had crossed.

You simply shook your head, putting the safety of your gun back on and putting it away in your belt. “You’re good with asking questions, but I’m not stupid,” you told her, taking a step closer and walking around her.

Natasha seemed to get the hint, and she moved around you as well, taking a step away from your stuff and letting you put it back in your bag.

“What are you doing here, all on your own?” she then asked you, and you smirked slightly as you shook your head. “Just passing through, like I said.”

Natasha smirked at your stubbornness, before deciding to open up herself, hoping that would help you trust her. “I’m looking for my sister. The last message I got from her came from Seattle,” Natasha explained, and you stopped packing your bag for a moment as you looked at Natasha, confused as to why she’d tell you such a thing.

“Are you looking for someone too?” Natasha urged, and you sighed slightly as you finished stuffing your objects in your bag.

“Maybe your sister joined the Wolves. You aren’t allowed to have any contact after that,” you explained, and Natasha simply nodded, thinking for a moment before speaking again.

“Did the person that you’re looking for join the Wolves?” she asked, and you looked down, not knowing what to say. “Maybe we can help each other,” Natasha suggested, and you looked at her confused.

“Why would I trust you?” you asked her, and Natasha merely shrugged.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now,” she told you, and you glanced at the gun strapped to her thigh.

“Fair point,” you told her, walking to the desk and using a key to open the top drawer, taking out some bullets and medicine.

“So that’s where you hid the useful stuff? Smart,” Natasha commented as she watched you load your stuff into your bag, making sure to keep her distance. “Are you planning on moving locations?” Natasha asked you, and you nodded.

“Scars build bridges high up to get around the Wolves and the flood. I’ve been using the bridges as well, but sometimes they sent patrols through the routes. The patrols are always small, yet I still don’t want to be here when they arrive,” you explained, walking to the door and checking if it was clear.

“Can I come with you?” Natasha asked, and you looked at her for a moment, contemplating on letting her go with you.

You didn’t really trust her, how could you, you just met. Yet you also didn’t get a bad feeling with her, and you liked that. You simply nodded at her question, and Natasha smiled as she took out her gun.

“Did you see anyone come up here when you did?” Natasha asked, scanning the halls.

You shook your head, taking the safety off your gun as you walked to the stairway.

When you made it to the stairway, you spotted seven figures on one of the bridges, heading straight towards your location.

“I do now,” you said as you motioned for the group of Scars approaching you.

“What do we do? This is the only way down?” Natasha asked as she loaded her own gun.

“Not exactly…” you told her, pointing to the other side of the hall. “There’s a stairway over there, and it’s never used by Scars…” you explained as you trailed off, checking the location of the patrol group before making your way towards it.

“Why do you say that with such hesitance?” Natasha asked, and you made an awkward face as you opened the doors.

Clickers could be heard coming from every direction, and Natasha grimaced as she realised that was your only way out. “Can you be quiet?” you asked her, and Natasha nodded as she screwed a silencer on her gun. She handed one to you, and you took it gratefully as you screwed it on your own gun.

You were so screwed…

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After you and Natasha had cleared one floor, avoiding the Clickers and only taking out the Runners, you had made it to a second floor.

The only problem, you could see the amount of spores floating around through the small glass window in the door. Natasha took out her mask, but you didn’t, as you didn’t have one.

“You don’t have a mask?” Natasha asked you as you slowly shook your head, not wanting to tell her about your immunity, but not really seeing any other option than to go through the spores.

“It’ll be fine,” you assured her, but before you could open the door, Natasha grabbed your arm.

“That many spores will take you life within seconds,” you told you, and you gave her a small smile. “Trust me, it won’t,” you told her as you opened the door, walking inside and breathing in the spores.

Natasha was beyond confused, but when you didn’t start coughing she decided not to question it until after you had gotten out of the building.

You and Natasha made your way across the floor, mindful of any Clickers that may have been on it, yet the only infected you had seen were the two Bloaters in the hallway. They were easily avoidable, but perhaps you had spoken too soon as you got jumped from the side, a Stalker on top of you, trying to bite you.

You panicked and tried to fight it off, the commotion only alerting the two Bloaters as they now headed for the room you were in.

For a second you thought Natasha had abandoned you to safe her own life, but that thought soon left your head as the Stalker’s limp body fell on top of you, a bullet hole straight through it’s skull.

“Come on!” Natasha yelled as she pushed the Stalker off of you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to your feet, running to the nearest door and trying to open it.

“BLOATERS!” you yelled as you shot at the two infected behind you. The Bloaters were getting closer and closer, and yet Natasha could not get the door open.

“We’re gonna fucking die!” you yelled.

“Like hell we are!” Natasha yelled back as she finally pushed the door open, pulling you through it and immediately barracting it from the inside. The two Bloaters ran against the door, and a loud ‘bonk’ could be heard as they tried to push it open.

You leaned against the wall, hunched forward with a hand on your chest, trying to steady your breath.

“You okay?” Natasha asked as she tried to catch her breath herself, already checking on which way you could go. You tried to speak, but you were breathing so heavily you opted to just raise your thumbs.

“Why don’t the spores bother you?” Natasha then asked, and you looked up, surprised she asked so kindly.

You simply shrugged, wanting to put off telling her about your immunity for as long as possible. “I just saw you breath enough spores to take down a dozen men! Yet you seem to be fine,” Natasha stated, and you sighed.

“Spores just don’t bother me,” you told her, and she looked at you sceptically, wanting to continue looking for an answer, but when the doors started to get dents from the Bloaters running in to them so often, she decided against it, instead deciding to try and get down to the street as fast as possible.

“We can move through here, but it’s gonna be a bit of a squeeze,” Natasha said as she pushed a fallen closet away from an opening.

“I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” she then said, inspecting the small opening.

You walked towards her, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I can fit,” you told her, and she nodded.

“I’ll go first,” Natasha said as she pushed herself through the opening, turning back to you. “Try to stay close,” she told you, and you nodded.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you told her before taking a deep breath in, squeezing yourself into the opening. “Cozy,” you mentioned, and you heard Natasha let out a little chuckle.

“Let’s just go and get out of here as soon as possible,” Natasha said as she continued walking.

The two of you were going at a slow pace, but you were moving forward. That was until the ground beneath you became unstable, and after hearing a few cracks here and there, the ground gave up completely, sending you and Natasha tumbling to the floor below you.

But the fall wasn’t one floor, or two. You fell three floors down until your back collided with the ground, and some of the rubble fell on top of you.

Natasha fell down next to you, she herself being seemingly fine.

After a second of laying there, groaning on the floor, you heard growling and screaming coming from beside you.

You turned to look at it, and when you did, you immediately regretted it. It looked like a Shambler, but even more mutated. There were arms and feet and heads sticking out everywhere, and you couldn’t even tell where the head of the original person was.

It came running at you with an incredible speed, and while you tried your best to get the rubble off of you, Natasha scrambled up to help you, running towards you as fast as she could to help you get the rubble off.

Once the mutated infected got to close, Natasha turned around, shooting it a few times, but it wouldn’t die. It didn’t even look bothered by the bullets Natasha impaled it with.

You frantically tried to get the wooden planks and rubble from you, nearly crying when you realised you weren’t strong enough, and the mutated infected would probably get you. It came closer, and Natasha fell backwards as she kept shooting it.

Once it got too close, the weight of you three and the rubble pushed the floor to collapse, making you all fall another floor down.

Once you hit the floor, the rubble landed next to you, and Natasha helped you get up and dragged you as she ran to a place to hide. You both had landed in some sort of parking garage, a layer of water and old cars filling the space. The infected, which you had decided to call the Rat King, was quick to scramble to its feet, growling as it started to walk around, trying to find you two.

“Are you alright?’’ Natasha whispered, her hand still on your shoulder as you both crouched down behind the car.

You nodded, yet flinched slightly when you heard the Rat King growling.

“What the hell is that thing?” you whispered back, and Natasha shrugged a little while glancing over the car, wanting to get the Rat King in her vision.

“I have never seen anything like it before,” she told you. “It’s like it’s three infected grown into one…” Natasha trailed off, pulling you out of the hiding spot and out of the way, just seconds before the Rat King slammed itself into the car you had hid behind.

Natasha started running, dragging you with her as she ran towards a wall, pushing you behind it.

“Try and find a way out. I’ll distract it!” she told you, pulling out a gun as she started shooting at it. The Rat King seemed affected by the gun she used now, and it seemed stunned for a few seconds before it continued it’s way towards you two.

You turned around, running towards the wall of the parking garage, hoping you could try and climb out that way. You didn’t find an opening, and you were about to climb up when you heard Natasha yell to turn around. You did, and the Rat King was charging straight at you, growling and extending one of it’s many hands.

You ducked, running towards Natasha as she pushed you behind her, continuing to shoot at the Rat King.

The Rat King stopped for a moment, a part of him ripping off, and a Stalker fell off. It ran towards a car, hiding behind it. The Rat King itself quickly regained it’s posture, charging back at you. You shuddered, standing behind Natasha closely as she kept shooting at the Rat King.

You could have cried. You were absolutely terrified and it just kept going. It didn’t look like the Rat King had even suffered any amount of damage.

“Keep looking!” Natasha yelled, and you took another look at the Rat King before turning to the other end of the parking garage, trying to see if you could find an opening there. You heard Natasha’s gun firing, and before you could even reach the wall, the stalker from before jumped you from the side, taking you down to the ground.

You couldn’t move for a moment, the shock making panic run through your body. Once you regained your ability to think, you reached for you knife, stabbing the stalker in the head and killing it.

You stood back up, using a car to climb on top of a truck, making you stand high enough to reach the ceiling.

You found a vent, pushing some of the rubble away and finding a way to climb through.

“Over here!” you yelled at Natasha, looking at her as she was still shooting. How many bullets did she even carry with her? Seeing Natasha trapped in a corner, you took out your own gun, shooting at the Rat King. The moment your first bullet collided with the Rat King, it turned around, facing you.

It started walking towards you now, and you froze as you kept shooting. It got awfully close until, suddenly, it stopped moving, falling to the ground.

It groaned and screamed and moved for a few moments, until it finally settled, giving you and Natasha time to breath. You fell to your knees, moving into a sitting position to catch your breath. That thing must’ve been the scariest thing you had ever seen.

Natasha quickly came towards you, climbing the truck and kneeling next to you.

She laid her hand on your back, her other hand coming up to your cheek to turn you face towards her. “Are you okay, did it get you?” she asked you, and you shook you head as you closed your eyes.

“What the fuck was that thing?” you asked her, and she shook her head as she replied. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen anything like it. It looked to be some mutated version of a Shambler.”

You nodded, sighing deeply.

“Maybe that was patient zero?...” you thought aloud, and Natasha seemed to think for a moment before looking at you.

“Maybe, we are close to a hospital,” Natasha confirmed, and you nodded.

“Let’s hope we never run into such a thing ever again,” you mentioned, and this time Natasha nodded. “I found some vents, maybe we can get out through there,” you said, pointing towards the opening.

Natasha stood up, walking towards the vent and glancing inside, shining a flashlight in it to get a better look.

“It looks clear, and it’s probably the best shot we got at getting out of here,” Natasha confirmed, and you nodded as you stood up too, walking towards her. You looked around the parking garage one more time, confirming that there was no other way to get out.

When you turned around, Natasha motioned for you to get in first. You turned on your flashlight and crawled in, feeling even more squished than before.

After crawling for a little while, you finally found daylight, pushing the vent at the outside away and crawling out.

“Fucking hell,” you stated as you stretched, immediately recognising the three figures that were standing close by as Wolves. When Natasha crawled out as well, you pulled her up at her arm as fast as possible, ducking behind a crumbled stone wall.

“This day just keeps getting better,” you mentioned as you reached for your gun once more, ready to take the Wolves out if they got to close.

“Let’s try and get around them,” Natasha said as she laid her hand on your arm, pushing it down. “If they see us, we’ll just draw more of them,” she stated, and you nodded as you put your gun in your belt.

“What’s your plan?” you asked Natasha, and she thought for a moment before pointing towards a street. “We make it over there, follow the road down and we’ll get to a movie theatre. We can rest up there,” Natasha explained, and you looked at her sceptically.

“Are you sure?” you asked her, and she nodded.

“I’ve been staying there for a few days before I tried to make it further into the city,” Natasha explained, reaching for her silenced gun.

You reached for yours too, and Natasha laid her hand on yours again. “Only for emergencies,” she stated, and you nodded as you loaded it.

“I’m almost out anyway,” you told her, and Natasha checked her gun, mentioning that she was almost out as well.

“We’ll just try and not kill anybody then,” Natasha stated, as she checked the position of the Wolves before moving towards a cafe, climbing through an open window and disappearing behind it.

You checked over your shoulder, seeing the Wolves still looking the other way, before you too moved towards the cafe, following Natasha’s movements.

Moving through the cafe, staying low, Natasha led you to the back door, going through it and sneaking to the next building. You could hear the Wolves talking, but so far they seemed to be oblivious to the fact they were being watched.

You and Natasha made it all the way to the end of the street, and you didn’t appear to have been followed when you looked back.

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

After walking a few blocks, you two finally arrived at the movie theatre. You two got inside, barricading the door and plopping down on a couch, finally being able to catch your breath.

You sat down on the couch, dropping your bag at your feet as you sat back, exhausted from the days happenings. Natasha on the other hand, was still standing, telling you she was gonna try and find if the electricity was still working.

You acknowledged her words, laying back on the couch.

After a few minutes, the lights turned on, and you knew Natasha must’ve found some generator.

Natasha made her way back towards you, setting her own stuff by the couch in front of you.

“We can stay here for the night,” Natasha stated, sitting down on her own couch. You nodded, to tired to respond.

Natasha chuckled, seeing your exhausted state and deciding not to push you to talk anymore.

“Get some sleep,” she simply said, and you hummed in acknowledgement as you let sleep overtake you. Natasha laid down on the couch as well, she herself following close behind.

part 2

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @slut4johansson

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amywritesthings · 5 months

Text

boston holiday. / a joel holiday ficlet

pairing: joel miller x f!reader ( the last of us ) word count: 1.5k summary: You're decorating for the holidays in your Boston Quarantine Zone apartment. A begrudging Joel Miller gets involved. tags: domestic fluff, pre-tlou, explicit language, holiday decorating in the apocalypse, set 6 months after 'seeing you / seeing me' credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the third day of the twelve days of amymas 2023 !!!

“The hell’re you doing, girl?”

Only two people have the key to your place.

One of them is Tess Servopoulos.

Giving Tess a spare key was necessary — or so she's claimed, since according to her, she can't trust you to stay out of trouble for longer than twenty minutes.

(She isn't wrong.)

However, you’d love to argue that somehow you have become the saint in this duo.

Ever since that week at Miller's place, every deal has gone smoother than running water. For the last couple of months, you've been clean. Unseen. Invisible.

Tess, on the other hand, has always been a bad influence.

The older woman opens her mouth, starts a Boston-wide battle, and boom — sleepover for two at your place.

(After saving your ass, you'll hide her away from wandering eyes without question. Curfew punishments be damned.)

The other person that has the key to your place, well —

The other is the salt-and-pepper man watching you in mild horror as you teeter on the arm of your dilapidated couch.

(You just haven't seen him yet.)

Joel Miller has been known for his subtlety, his silence, but not around you.

Not when he holds the key to your place; a recent development.

He tends to simply show up when he wants.

You don't mind that — usually.

But his bark scares the shit out of you in the middle of stretching high, your bare toes barely touching the arm of your couch.

The hell're you doing, girl?

Hoping to tack this starting string of garland to the ceiling suddenly becomes you fighting for your life.

"Ah—!"

The surprise intrusion causes you to falter, ankle losing its balance.

You wobble once, violently twice, before falling backwards.

Joel wastes no time — he slams the front door shut, not bothering to lock it behind him, and rushes to the couch.

Like some fucked up apocalyptic fairy tale, he catches you well before you hit the ground.

Joel Miller, the reluctant hero.

For a moment you stay suspended here: feet barely touching the ground, the older man’s arms wrapped around your torso.

Joel's weather-worn face twists in a concerned scowl.

All you can do is cheekily smile.

“Hey, Miller.”

“Don’t fucking hey me,” he snaps. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“To be fair, I thought I could reach it.” He stares, so you supply: "The ceiling. I thought I could reach the ceiling."

“You’ve got the tallest goddamn ceilings in the Boston Q-Z,” Joel argues in return, setting you down to properly stand. You hold onto the sleeves of his flannel shirt until you get your footing. “Ain’t no way in hell you were reaching anything.”

He lets go of you to stare at the ceiling like he's ready to pick a fight with it, before dropping his chin.

The man stops moving when he picks up the fallen string of fake green vines strewn across your scratched hardwood floor.

The question is silent: what the hell is this?

You cross your arms over your chest, wishing you had a better excuse.

A funny one that doesn't make you look so childish, especially in front of Joel Miller.

Still, you're a bad liar around him, so you choose to stare at the garland instead of him when you confess.

“I was trying to get the holiday spirit going.”

When you blink up to Joel, your suspicions of confusion are correct: he stares back like you’ve sprouted a second head and become a clicker in the flesh.

A beat passes.

Then another.

“The what now?”

You playfully roll your eyes and walk away towards your radio. Hovering over it, your fingertips reach to toy with the dials until white static takes over the apartment silence.

That radio is the only reliable device in your endless collection of junk, though it's had to go through some repairs this year.

Thanks to Joel it still works, though he won't let you thank him.

(Not verbally, anyway. There are always loopholes in the middle of the night.)

“Every year I do this,” you explain, turning each dial with care until the local radio station comes over the airwaves.

"You... decorate."

Clearly he's unimpressed.

"Yeah," you reply. "Between leaving the Q-Z and scavenging the nearby neighborhoods, I find junk all the time. Snowman trinkets and elf knick-knacks and other stupid shit no one ever touches because it's all useless. I keep all of them in a box until the holidays. My collection's actually grown exponentially over the years.”

Two boxes full, actually.

Forgotten treasures of other families, now kept sacred on your mantle.

“Sounds like a waste of time,” Joel scoffs.

“It is,” you agree once you find the right channel before standing at full height with a tiny smile, "but that time makes me happy, so I’m happy to waste it. What else am I supposed to do between jobs?”

He considers those words, if just for a moment.

Joel scrunches his nose and eyes in a way that says he's debating on being mean.

You don't expect him to get it.

He's been through shit, but so has everyone in this quarantine zone.

(So have you.)

The Eagles croon in the background — not exactly holiday cheer, but any vinyl or CDs of the greats like Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra singing holiday songs are probably nonexistent from the decay of time.

Besides, you can’t imagine many others are trying to keep the holidays afloat in the quarantine zone. Some families, sure, but not many.

Too much heartbreak. Too much loss.

But you've had enough sadness, so you try to bring a little light to your humble abode.

"Don't worry about it, Joel," you add after an uncomfortable amount of silence passes. "I know it's stupid. There's a fresh bottle of stored whiskey in the—"

All words die on your tongue when some kind of winter miracle happens:

Rather than tossing the garland string to the side, Joel turns on the heel of his boot and away from you.

"Joel?"

He carefully slips off his shoes, revealing worn-white socks, and steps on your couch cushion.

With care, he reaches for the ceiling.

A strip of his bare lower back reveals itself in his stretch.

“What are you... doing?” you inquire, stepping around your couch to face him.

He doesn't look down, determined to stare at the white canvas of your ceiling.

Searching.

Your line of sight is in direct contact with the dark happy trail poking from his shirt, causing your face to burn.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” he retorts.

“You said it was a waste of time.”

“You dying because you wanna try and stick some stupid tree shit up on your ceiling is more of a waste of time. You got tape or something?”

“Seriously?”

He peers down at you.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?" he retorts. "Get the damn tape.”

You have to try not to smile too wide when you step away, rummaging through your box of supplies.

Truthfully nothing in this box is worth keeping — none of it will save your life in the apocalypse — but your mental sanity thanks you for it every year.

After finding a roll that’s still sticky, you return to the couch and hold it up for him.

Joel grunts in gratitude, focusing his efforts solely on the line of green above him.

He manages to press the start of the decoration in place, holding the bottom of it to you.

“You want big loops or little?”

“What’ll stick better, Miller?”

He gives you a warning look. “Joel.”

A smile spreads like wildfire against your lips.

“...what’ll stick better, Joel?”

That seems to satisfy him.

“Hell if I know,” he grumbles, “just tell me what you prefer and I’ll do it.”

Something stirs in your lower belly as he speaks.

Joel didn’t have to do this.

He didn’t have to do any of it.

You were perfectly fine with keeping your need for holiday cheer to yourself, but he’s stepped in without so much as a fuss.

He’s had a hard life. Tess has alluded to the fact that he was once a father before.

You can only imagine how much he hates this, but he’s still trying.

For you.

It’s not a favor you will easily forget.

Your fading candles burn out in the background as the two of you go through every part of your assorted holiday decorations, popping open a bottle of smuggled whiskey to keep yourselves dehydrated.

You direct. Joel places.

After some time you both get too tipsy to put the finishing touches.

(Too busy slow dancing in the middle of your living room to the ballads of Patsy Cline.)

Making jokes.

Enjoying warmth.

Choosing life.

It’s the first night Joel Miller ever sleeps at your place.

You both stay in bed long after the sun rises.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fluff #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #holiday fanfic #holiday one shot #holiday fluff #twelve days of amymas #amywritesthings #fic: boston holiday

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elliespuns · 2 months

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They made passports in TLOU?? I mean, how come Ellie has one? She was born after the outbreak? That doesn’t mane sense, does it?

If you look closer, it's a Federal Disaster Response Agency (FEDRA) passport. It's not the usual passport you have to travel with. This is basically to order people around to make them obey you, to send them someplace you want to send them, etc. It's not like, 'yeey, I have a passport, now I can leave this fucking place.' Unless you were ordered to go someplace, the passport was pointless. You still had to play by the rules. It was dictatorship again in the quarantine zones when the people got used to living in the post-apocalyptic world. That's why Joel and Tess had to show their passports at the gate to "identify" themselves, yet they still had to 'run away' from the QZ.

Here are all their passports.

#the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #tess servopoulos #tell tlou #tlou game #the last of us game #the last of us part 1 #tlou part 1 #tlou passports #elliespuns answers

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floppymixtape · 4 months

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tlou x tgh au where katniss is ellie and haymitch is joel because i am loosing it ^_^ more thoughts under the separator

SO. ok. I think the story of tlou would have to change drastically for it to make sense with thg character but here are a few ideas about where things would go.

Katniss looses Prim when she is a lot younger. Gale finds this mall just outside of the quarantine zone and they all go together. Which leads to Prim and Katniss getting bit.

Gale ends up killing Prim and promises to do the same for Katniss and to take care of her mother. Time goes on and Katniss doesn't turn but she can't get over the image of Gale killing her sister, she can't stop blaming him.

So the fireflies (which i think could be called mockingjays in this au) find the two of them and take them. Gale becomes a firefly rebel and Katniss follows the Ellie storyline of having to be taken across country.

Tess is probably Effie. LISTEN I KNOW. i know they are NOTHING alike. but Tess is the person that Joel has been working with the longest after his daughter died, and they have this weird romantic tension and guilt to them that just fits Haymitch and Effie. So what i think is that Effie is closer to the higher ups of the fedra and gets Haymitch jobs to complete for money/things. She doesn't usually go with him, but when she knows it's missions that Haymitch cannot go through alone she does her best to help. Which is how she ends up completing the role of Tess. By urging Haymitch to take Katniss.

I debated also having Peeta be dragged around with Haymitch, but i think he is much better suited to live in jackson and meet Katniss and Haymitch there. (Who is tommy? i have no idea honestly. Maybe another victor?) Peeta is a jackson boy to me.

aaaaand that's all the thoughts for right now!

#art #thg series #thg #the hunger games #haymitch abernathy #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #tlou #hunger games au #thg art #thg au

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devnmon · 1 year

Text

Long, Long Time.

'Cause I've done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think I'm gonna love you For a long, long time

Summary: Irrevocably in love with the woman you can’t have, a wine drunk night over classical reading and a fireplace aids in decision making.

Ao3 version | tess masterlist

prequel fic

Warnings: smut [a tiny bit], reader hopelessly in love with Tess, use of y/n (a couple times); based on ep 3 of TLOU

wc: 13k

A/n: Okay ummm first of all don’t blame me for writing this much on one character that i’ve never written before, but this fic is literally my baby. It’s my favorite thing i’ve written. I thought it was my turn to take a spin with writing for Tess. Since tlou came out i’ve been obsessed with her and… well you can tell by how much I wrote. Here it is, my perfect Tess fic. Enjoy <3

Today was the day.

A warm morning in September, 20 years after the Cordyceps infection sunk into the deepest depths of society, crumbling down its once high, strong walls, to a brittle, cracked dictatorship of community. The Boston Quarantine Zone was one of your least favorite places in the world, but from what you heard about other cities' QZ's, it was a walk in the park.

As a smuggler, you handled runs for more than 75% of the place, with the help of a few desperate FEDRA officers that offered to look the other way for a price.

If risking your life for bottles of pills and useful supplies was the most dangerous thing to do, then so be it; you were the unlucky one.

Most runs, you were accompanied by one of your two partners, Tess Servopolous or Joel Miller. They were older, skilled, smart, and resourceful, and they knew how to kill. Especially Tess. She could handle her own like it was nobody's business. Hard headed and courageous, Tess became a good partner and soon enough, a close friend.

Although, there was another part of you that found her alluring, captivating and so, so gorgeous. She was confident in herself no matter what, which only drew you towards her more.

Ever since the early days of the outbreak, you three had each other's backs, and nothing could come between you. To you, they were the only thing you'd known after being found by the older woman and taken in. The day she found you, beat up and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.

Now a part of Joel and Tess's smuggling business, you were off to a town called Lincoln, a five hour hike from the walls of the QZ.

The hot sun glared down on your skin, a chill September breeze flowing in gusts that kept you cooled off enough throughout your journey.

A majority of the trip was spent in silence, lost in your enamor for Tess, eyes trailing over the back of her figure. She had glanced back once or twice at you, like she could feel your eyes burning into her body.

Some nights you lay awake wondering what it would be like to drag your fingers up and down the expanses of her skin, trailing over her back and caressing the soft skin of her figure till you fell asleep.

Time passed as you traveled behind Tess and Joel, and the image of a metal fence coming into view.

"This is it," Joel stated before approaching the gate. You begin to follow the two older individuals before you pause, stopping a minute to remember something that Frank had mentioned about their gate.

"Wait, I thought you said this thing was booby-trapped or something.. How do we know it won't get triggered?" The concern of your safety was imminent, the unknown patiently waiting behind the metal gates.

"Well we don't, but Frank said if we came from the road instead of the forest that it wouldn't get triggered. They'd see us coming that way, too. Trust me, I know Frank. He wouldn't lie, not when he knows we can work together."

Tess was the expert on the two men that lived behind the gates of the completely deserted town; she was the one who arranged their meeting, after all.

"Alright.." You sighed, walking right up to the gate with them.

There was a box attached to the entry gate with a few buttons on it. You watched Joel walk up to the gate and press a button labeled 'Call'.

A loud buzzing sounded out after he'd pushed the red button in, and a moment later, a male voice responded from the intercom.

"Password."

The voice sounded deeper than Frank's, only assuming the speaker was Bill, the other half of the couple that resided in Lincoln.

"Uh- Ahem," Joel cleared his throat, before stating the code word Frank had given you three before coming.

The feedback rang out as Joel spoke, another buzzing sound coming from the gate as you hear it unlock.

"Alright, let's go. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, since we really don't know what we're walkin' into here."

Tess scoffed at her male partner's words, a smirk on her face saying otherwise from your tense anxiety of meeting new people.

"Tess, hey," you grabbed her arm ever so softly as you trailed behind her, and she looked toward you, "Are you sure we can trust these guys?"

A tiny smile formed on her face as she recognized your nervousness. She thought it was adorable and sweet how you went to her for comfort at any point in time. It warmed her heart and made her feel important to somebody again.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Frank wouldn't hurt a fly. Bill on the other hand.. he might be a bit standoffish at first. From what Frank said, I'm sure he'll warm up to us with time. Don't worry."

Tess rubbed your arm up and down a couple times, hoping it would soothe your worries. As she did, your face broke out into a small smile, nodding before you dropped your grip and continued walking. You could get lost in the hazel of her eyes like it was hypnosis, or something close to that. The way Tess made your world stop by even being in your presence was something entirely familiar to you, and it kept you up at night, pondering about the simplest things.

It seemed the little town of Lincoln, Massachusetts was surrounded by this perfect bubble of safety and security. Like a dream, the familiarity of a place as different from the QZ.. felt a bit unreal. You never thought you'd have the chance to make friends in a world with infected, much less one with access to such a large range of supplies in a deserted town, highly protected by its sole residents.

The feeling surrounding you was oddly similar to how you felt around Tess, her warmth and beauty heart-warming, much like a hug.

Your focus is brought back to reality as you almost bump into Tess's back, her and Joel had abruptly stopped walking.

"Oof- sorry Tess-"

"Y/n.." Joel says abruptly, not realizing they're both holding their hands out to the side, the cocking of what sounded like a gun putting the realization into place.

"Shit.." You whispered, stepping out from behind Tess, arms out in the same fashion as your partners, and you realize there's a man holding a gun out at the three of you.

Then, from the house the man stood in front of, another man came running out. He calls the name of the man who's holding his pistol at you, Bill.

Which means.. that's Frank. You thought to yourself, as the sweater-wearing man approached and tried to beckon the other man to lower his weapon.

"Bill, these are the people I met over the radio. We can trust them.. they aren't going to hurt us. Put the gun down, please? I don't want to scare off people we could potentially be working with.." The man named Frank said with a chuckle, almost having to force the gun down himself. After another moment of brooding stares being passed between Bill and Joel, he lowers the gun and places it in his holster at his thigh.

Your hands drop to your sides after freezing with them out in the air due to fear. It wasn't the first time someone's pointed a gun at you, but it sure as hell was one of the times you thought someone would actually shoot. Relief washed over you as Bill's arms lowered.

"Perfect, thank you," Frank says to Bill, before wrapping his arm around the man's shoulder, "Welcome to our home, I'm Frank, and this is Bill. I'm so glad to finally meet you guys. We have a lot to talk about! Come on, follow me."

Frank had a home-like smile that was warm and welcoming. It was the first time in a long time you'd seen anyone smile like that. So carefree. You guessed it was the effect of not being behind the walls of a QZ for too long. That, or Frank knew how to stay true to himself in such a rugged, rough around the edges world.

The uncomfortable gaze Bill shot your way made you realize that it probably took a lot for him to even agree to let the three of you come into their town, much less want to work with complete strangers.

While being led back to Bill and Frank's home, you can't help but marvel at everything around you. Lincoln was much different than the QZ and open city; a town quite literally frozen in time from when it had been evacuated. A place like this was one you dreamed of settling down in, with a partner before the outbreak; it seemed like the perfect place to do so. Quiet, quaint, and bare of any infected or dangerous militia and resistance groups.

As their home came into view, it was exactly as you thought it'd be: another one of the huge houses a place like suburbia always had. It was one of the biggest you'd ever seen, almost out of a storybook. Except for the leaves blowing through the streets, it was as if the house hadn't aged a day. Everything about their home and its surrounding yard looked as if it had been tended to regularly; a mowed lawn, bushes with budding flowers, and not a single area of chipped paint to be seen.

"This is our place, I do my best to keep it looking its best and Bill... well he's just one hell of a cook. Aren't you, dear?" Frank turned to Bill with a smile, only to look away from his lover and back at you three.

"It's true, one of the many things I'm good at. Including defending my home." Bill's hand went to the gun strapped on his thigh.

"Yes, of course you are. Now, could you whip us up some lunch while I get to know our lovely guests here?" Frank turns his head towards Bill again.

"But-" Bill begins to speak, wanting to name all the reasons he doesn't want to leave his lover alone with strangers. Though, you notice Frank is quick to reassure Bill that everything will be alright.

"I'll be fine, I promise. They aren't going to hurt me, I've been extra careful with who I talk to, you know that. These people aren't dangerous. At least not to us." Frank's smile breaks Bill's resolve, trusting his lover enough to retreat into the house with haste.

Now alone with Frank, he guides the three of you over to the table on their lawn. You sit down next to Tess on your right side and Frank on the left.

"So.. Tess, I assume the lovely man you arrived with is the famous Joel Miller?" Frank turned to Joel with his hand out, receiving a firm handshake and nod from the Texan man.

"And you must be..." He turns to you.

"I'm y/n, the secret.. not-so-secret third partner." You laughed awkwardly, feeling somewhat out of place with the man and woman.

"That's right, I've only heard your name a handful of times, but it is so nice to finally meet you in person." Frank read your nervous state like a book, giving you peace of mind with a warm smile. Your nervous state diminishes when Frank's words set in, easing a smile onto your face and raising your eyebrows in slight surprise.

He's heard of me? I wonder what Tess's told him...

"It's nice to meet you too, Frank."

The four of you conversed with small talk, only butting in here and there to add something in, mostly keeping to yourself and not wanting to make the wrong impression on Frank. Tess and Joel discuss the details of a trading business between you all.

Soon enough, Bill began to come out with plates and silverware, to which Frank jumped up to help with setting the table.

"I can help if-" You started to speak, feeling a little guilty at not doing anything to help out as a guest.

"No, no. Sit, relax. You're our guests here, and I'm sure your trip has been long and tiring. Besides, it's been a while since I've set the table for more people than just me and Bill, and it's something I've always loved doing." Frank's kind smile once again eases your worries. But you swore to yourself you'd find a way to repay them for this.

You nodded as the two men made several trips to set the table, appreciating every little thing they added to it one after another. Spices, napkins, fine china plates and silverware with no scratches or rust on them. It was all a marvelous sight, one that reminded you of the old world and missing little things like this in times like these.

The amount of objects they'd placed on the table made you forget just how many of those material things you realized living without was doable. Even if you wished there were more aspects of the old world in the present one.

Fiddling with your thumbs again, you listened in to Joel and Tess's muttering about whether or not they could convince the two males on agreeing to work together, until you heard an exclamation from Tess.

"Oh my god.."

Your head jolted up towards the woman, about to ask her the reason for her outburst, until you picked up what had caught her attention.

The smell of fresh, hot food surrounded the three of you, hunger scraping at the edges of your stomach, making it even more evident that your last meal hadn't been as much of a hearty one as you'd wished. Dishes with meat and vegetables were all neatly placed in the same portion sizes as Frank and Bill put each plate down.

Before you dug in, you heard a familiar pop of cork from what you could only assume was a wine bottle. Sure enough, as you looked at Frank, the bottle he'd brought out resembled one you'd buy for a nice meal like this.

It wasn't until you heard the same cocking of Bill's pistol that you froze in your place. You watched as he placed it on the table for you all to see, a statement of protection and untrustworthiness he clearly still saw in the three of you.

Maybe not you or Tess specifically, but Joel, most definitely.

You decide to ignore the firearm's presence on the table, and begin eating the food that's so delicately placed on each of your plates. Instead of scarfing it all down like some rabid animal, you savored each bite of the flavorful, nutritious food and sip of wine like it was your last.

It might as well have been, since you had no idea whether or not you would be working together.

You wondered how people even ate on china plates that were as delicate and prettily detailed in the most extravagant ways. The silverware and wine glasses were also detailed and etched in such a beautiful way. It made you appreciate the smallest things before you had to go without them again.

A while passes, and everyone's finishing their food up. Light gusts of wind flow through Tess's hair as you look over to her, holding the glass of wine in her hand.

"Well, this really is just-- it's amazing." A slight smile on her face brings warmth to your chest, heating your body despite the cool air.

"Right?" Frank looks from Tess to Bill, who still has his pistol on the table, "Can you not please?"

He reaches over Tess's glass to fill it with the dark red alcohol, then reaches over to yours to do the same as you smile at him.

"I'm the same way," Joel states, understanding where Bill's actions are coming from. You realized in that moment that Bill and Joel are more alike than you thought.

"Oh, you're a paranoid schizophrenic too?" There's a slight chuckle that sounds out from you and Tess as Frank speaks.

"I'm not schizophrenic." Bill suddenly retorts, knowing the validity behind the methods to his madness.

Tess clears her throat, attempting to break the awkward tension that's so clearly grown between Bill and Joel.

"Well can I just say, gun aside, which I get, by the way, how nice this is to have a civilized meal in such a beautiful place? It's been so long. I mean it, I just- I wanna thank you. Even if we don't end up working together. I really needed this."

Her words seemed genuine, a slight twinge of silent and repressed pain in what she said. You only knew an extent of Tess's emotional wounds, ones she pushed down to do her job better.

As Frank lifts his wine glass to Tess with a small smile, he states, "We are working together."

The two clink their glasses together, making you raise yours to do the same.

"Cheers." Tess and Frank clink their glasses, and then Tess turns to you in the same fashion, quickly lifting your glass to clink together.

You all finish up your meals, occasionally glancing over to Tess with appreciation that you got to share something this special with your best friend.

And then the realization hit you, she was only your best friend, and you'd wanted to be more with her since she'd revealed a different side of her to you throughout the years. It was a kind, warm, caring side of Tess that made her feel like the familiarity of those strawberry candies that were hard on the outside, but soft, sweet and gooey on the inside. Tess was rough around the edges, but when she was alone with you were the times she revealed a softer side of herself.

Frank hadn't glanced anywhere other than Tess and Joel, picking up the way they discussed with one another, as if they were good business partners and friends. He'd been blinded by the fact that you sat furthest from Joel, barely even glancing his way for a split second.

The moment Frank gets a good look at you at the table is when he picks up on the way you look at Tess; it's different than the way you look at Bill and Joel, and by god does it open his eyes a mile wide. He only hides it behind his all-knowing warm persona and recognizes a light in your eyes that he saw similarly in Bill's the minute before he'd kissed him, that one day in 2007. Three years later, he saw that same spark of light in you, whenever your eyes glazed over to the only other woman at the table.

The warm younger man looks to his partner, who's anything but, to reassure you all again.

"We are." A moment passes as he sips from the wine glass and speaks again, "You know what? Let's go inside. Tess and y/n, I wanna show you something."

Frank begins to stand, lifting his wine glass from the table, Tess following next before you stand as well.

"Oh yes, it sounds amazing, I'd love to see inside." Now more sociable with the two glasses of wine in your system, you catch your balance before pushing your chair out from the table.

"Actually, I have been wanting to see inside, thank you."

Your words and Tess's overlap at the same time, chuckling a little at the synchronized movements and words between you and the older woman.

"Bring your wine. There's more inside."

"No, not inside. Frank.. Frank!" Bill's voice echoes from the table, as Frank holds the front door open for you two.

You're looking down at your feet as you walk up the porch and into the house, unaware that Tess was glancing back every few seconds to see if you followed. As you step inside, you wipe your boots off on the mat and Frank shuts the door behind him.

Your eyes finally pull away from the mat you've wiped your boots off on, to the inside of Bill and Frank's home. A deep breath of air fills your lungs to the brim as the sight of it all is a bit overwhelming.

"Wow..." you sigh, Frank stood behind you, Tess a few feet ahead, "I haven't seen anything like this in so.. long..."

You trail off as the sight of it all renders you speechless. There's candelabras with fresh wax from candles and picture frames with black and white photos. The image of inside makes it feel like a home, something you haven't felt in a very long time.

"Come on, it's right over here." Frank speaks out loud to the both of you, only you're still standing a few feet in front of the door, as the two walk into the open room just right of the stairway.

"Oh wow, look at these photo albums! I haven't seen one of these in forever.. Are they all Bill's?" Tess's voice carries to you from the other room, noticing her slight chuckle as you gaze over to where she's flipping through one of the albums.

"Yeah, yeah they are. Just don't tell him I showed you.." The two continue to giggle to themselves over the old pictures.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even notice the extensive vinyl collection.. You know, I used to have a turntable back in college. I'd play the same old records every day, annoyed the hell out of my roommates.." Tess chuckles as she talks about her past life, something you always enjoyed hearing about when she brought it up.

With you, she could bring up anything from her old life, and you'd listen to every word.

You still had the suspicion that she and Joel had a thing going on, and your not-so-little crush on her was doing more harm for you than good in that aspect.

Tess and Frank are looking through the collections of vinyl and photos while you nonchalantly watch from afar, eyes glazing over to the massive shelves of books. Most of the ones on lower shelves were Bill's books on survival and guns, but the ones resting on the higher shelves were classics.

Before the outbreak, you'd been a sucker for those. There was something about the art of classic literature, the subtext and deeper meanings under every word. The beauty of those stories was unmatched.

I'd love to read one of those over some wine.. Matter of fact-

"Hey Frank? Where's that other bottle of wine?" You call out to him from the doorway, with your glass still in hand. Frank glances over to you from a few feet away.

"It's in the fridge, wine opener is uh- somewhere in there. You'll find it."

"Okay, thanks."

You finally break off from the two, eyes glazing over every single picture Bill and Frank have of themselves in their home, as well as the paintings Frank's done of Bill and himself.

Striding into the other room, the kitchen was in a state of what looked freshly used; pots and pans were everywhere, the scent of once heated oil lingering.

Your curious eyes peel over all the older pictures, then notice one in color that's stuck to the fridge with a rainbow magnet.

A twinge in your chest comes as well as joy for the two men that happened to find each other among a world of infected and dictatorships.

You just wish it would have happened to you already.

Bill must have had some vintage cameras lying around, ones Frank knew how to use, or learned to use for things like this. You crouched closer to look at the picture of the two men, bodies pressed together and hands clasped in each other's like they never wanted to let go.

And in such a world, why would they want to?

You pull the refrigerator door open, spotting the unopened bottle of red wine in the door. Reaching for it, you read the label, Beaujolais.

Huh, fancy name for a wine. It'll get me drunk all the same though.. Now where is that damn cork opener?

You're rummaging around in the kitchen drawers until you finally find it, oblivious to the fact that Tess has walked up behind you in your haste to find the damn thing. Her grey shirt is unbuttoned, with a white tee underneath. She always had the simplest style, but it didn't stop her from looking fucking stunning in anything she wore. Tess makes her presence known to you, arms folded across her chest as she leans against the doorway. Picturesque light chestnut strands of hair frame the soft features of her face.

"Whatcha got there?" your body whips around, wine bottle and opener in each of your hands (and almost slipping from them), to which Tess smirks a little at the sight.

You were surprised to not have heard the sound of her boots on the wooden floor, but Tess always had a way of surprising you like that.

You smile sheepishly, raising the bottle and wine opener in both your hands. Truth was, Tess popped in at the perfect time; you could never get the hang of opening things like this.

Opening bottles of liquor for you was always Tess's thing, since you didn't have the skill or strength for it. Your hands were just naturally smaller than hers as well, which meant it was only a job for a person with bigger hands.

How you wished you could hold them.

"Just in time. Could you open this for me? It's more your thing than mine.. Please? Before I drop it or something.."

Tess strides towards you and grabs both objects from your hands. She inserts the opener into the cork and twists until the similar pop from earlier indicates she'd removed it, the wine's aroma filling the area between you two.

Her strength was so attractive, the way she could make the simplest things such as opening a wine bottle look hot. The veins in her hands protruded when her grip strained, making you wonder what her hands would look like doing different things.

Tess lifts the cork to her nose, smelling the wine more intensely now, looking angelic as she breaths it in. Then, she lifts it to your nose, the gesture so familiar to you, but yet you've never seen Tess in a moment like this before.

The scent of the liquor paired with how Tess looks in the sunlight peering through the window is intoxicating in itself, as she places the bottle on the counter. Glancing outside, the golden light began to fade fast, darkness approaching quicker than you'd like it to.

With a smile, you walk over to the countertop and pour yourself another glass of wine.

"Thanks... you'll have to teach me that sometime." You couldn't tell if the flush on your cheeks was from the wine, or the gesture Tess just did for you.

"Yeah, but then what would you need me for?" Tess cocks her head to the side, a slight smirk on her face again. That damn smirk.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed.

As if I could ever go without you, Theresa.

"Oh, please. I'll always need you, Tess."

"Right.. So, Frank said we could stay the night, since it's more dangerous to travel when it isn't daytime. Our visit was longer than expected.." Tess's eyes move from you to outside, where Bill and Joel were still sat, discussing in what looked like a more civilized way than earlier.

"They have enough room for us?" You asked, sipping at the red wine.

"Yeah, they've got two extra bedrooms. So, I figure you and I could share one and give Joel the other room for himself. Plus they said we could use their shower," Tess shuffled closer to you and lowered her voice, "I hear they have hot water.."

Your eyes widened at the thought of a hot shower, something you hadn't realized was accessible anymore. Though, before speaking, you cleared your throat to minimize any indication of nervousness in the fact that you and Tess would be sharing a bed tonight.

"You sure you wouldn't rather room with Joel? I.. move around a lot in my sleep."

A confused look displays itself across Tess's face.

"I mean- I wouldn't want you to wake up with me on top of you or.. anything.." A nervous chuckle erupts from your chest as you laugh your awkwardness off.

"I think that second bottle of wine is what I should be worried about, not your restlessness." She smirks again, "But have fun with that. I'm gonna go wash up. Talk later?"

You only nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of your best friend any more.

As Tess left the room, the strain of your journey finally set in. Soles of your feet began to twinge with pain, carrying you to the next room with the wine bottle and glass in hand.

You saunter into the living room, the amount of wine you've consumed making your cheeks, not to mention your whole body, flush with heat. The weight of your figure flopped down in a corner of the room as you placed the wine bottle down.

You gulped at the rest of the liquid in your glass, putting it on the side table. Gazing around the room at all the vintage items in perfect condition, your eyes meet the tall shelf of classic literature once again.

Pulling yourself from the chair, you pick up the bottle of wine by its neck, instead of pouring yourself another glass.

They're not gonna miss one little bottle... they've got a whole vineyard to themselves.

It's then you hear the front door open finally, Bill and Joel coming in, their discussion a little lighter than the one they were having earlier. You hear a chuckle fall from Joel in his Texan accent and your eyebrows raise.

Wow, they're finally getting along. Maybe we will have new business partners after all..

You stumble over to the bookshelf, about three glasses of wine making your bodily strength diminish with every sip you took. You were in a more tipsy state than usual; not having drank alcohol for years had more of an effect on you than it usually would.

The higher bookshelves are littered with dust, not having been touched since who knows when; you're just tall enough to drag your fingers across the top shelf on your tippy toes, the one below it littered with the many classic stories.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence, Emma by Jane Austen.

You read the titles off in your head, fingers trickling over the necks of each hardcover novel, stopping at Little Women and pulling it from the bookshelf. You also grabbed Pride and Prejudice, planning to ask Frank or Bill in the morning to borrow them till your next visit.

Slumping over in the chair again, you open Little Women, pages crinkling as the smell of the vintage book hits your face. It almost makes you sneeze, but you stifle it and begin reading.

You're mumbling to yourself in the little cozy corner of Frank and Bill's house, perched in a red armchair, and it's the most domestic you've ever seen yourself be in a long time. Granted, you were becoming more intoxicated with each gulp of the bitter alcohol you ingested. It floods your insides with warmth, your train of thought sidetracking from the story in your hand to the thought of the gorgeous woman that was Tess Servopolous.

She felt like home, the sweet smile she revealed to you your favorite thing about her. Her hardened exterior cracked and withered away bit by bit with every day you lay in her apartment healing from your injuries.

You're pulled out of the daydream when footsteps descend down the stairway, until the figure turns the corner. Frank's face comes into the warm lamp light, silently walking into the room and fiddling around with a few things before making his way over nearby where you sat.

Over the edges of the book, you watch him grab a few logs of firewood, placing one in the brick fire pit, before lowering your eyes back to the book. A few more minutes pass of his fidgeting before you realize the fireplace has come alive with flames of light.

Waves of heat flood the room, completely bringing your attention away from the book in your hands.

"No way..." Your voice draws Frank's eyes to you.

"Way. You know, my favorite thing to do in the fall is make fires.. Bonfires, campfires, any kind of natural warmth feels so home-like and safe. Don't you think so?"

"Yeah.. my childhood home had such a nice fireplace like this. It's really nice to see and feel again after so long." The two of you share a smile and look at the fire. Flames crackle and burn high, popping at times, the same way it used to before. Silence is adamant throughout the room, clutching the novel in your arms as the flames continue to burn.

"So.. you gonna tell me what's got you slumped over in a corner reading classic literature? I can't imagine it's that riveting.." Frank's tone tells you that he's joking, but you can't help from being at least a little offended in your drunken state.

"Classic literature is actually my favorite genre of novel, for your information. And you wouldn't get it…" The irony of your words slaps you in the face the minute they manifest themselves because.. Frank does know what it's like to feel the way you do. He’s just still in the dark about it.

"Hey, hey. You can tell me what's going on. I may or... may not have any experience on what you're going through."

Then the realization sets in that he's probably felt the way you do his whole life.

It's at that moment you decide to trust him. You close the book over, and look Frank in the eye.

"Okay, but this stays between us. Promise?"

"Of course."

A sigh leaves your chest and you begin to tell him how you feel about a certain one of your smuggling partners.

"Tess saved me... however many years ago it was... I can't remember how long it's been now. I've just always been around her since then. She's done things for me and- and I've done things for her... But I never knew why I always wanted to be around her.. until one night when I had a really, really rough day and she comforted me. I never wanted to leave her arms, and that's when I realized.. I liked her. She's my best friend, Frank.. What would I do if she doesn't feel the same? I don't think I could live with myself if I ruin our friendship because of some stupid fucking crush."

You finished speaking, letting out another sigh like you'd just thrown up all the thoughts reverberating in your head the second you made it out of the QZ walls.

Frank's silent until he speaks, analyzing and connecting dots in his head about this afternoon and the way you'd been acting.

"All that... doesn't sound just like a little crush to me, hon. You love her.. and you want what's best for her. Protecting yourself from the hypothetical hurt of her not feeling the same is valid.. but you're not gonna know how she feels about you if you don't tell her. Take the night, and think on it. Or... go ahead and keep on reading your classic literature while the love of your life goes to sleep upstairs. I'm just saying, if you don't try, then what's the point?"

The next time you look Frank in the eyes, they're filled with kindness, and you can tell he sees you for who you really are. There's no hiding your true self around him, he reads you the same way he read Bill the day he fell in that hole in the ground.

"You know what, you're right. I'm gonna take the night to think about it, thanks, Frank. I don't know what I'd do if I was alone in this."

Frank places his hand over yours in a compassionate and friendly way. He understood where you'd been coming from, especially with the way you both were.

The rest of your night is spent cuddling up under a blanket Frank had placed over your legs before he headed up to bed for the night. The wine drunk put you in an exhausted state, eyelids as heavy as weights until you ended up falling asleep curled up in the chair, fire dwindling away to nothing but embers.

A nudge to your arm slightly pulls you from your slumber, wine bottle abandoned on the floor from earlier. The next thing you feel is a strong grip lifting your body from the chair. With a groan, your arms flail weightlessly to the side, as you're picked up bridal style, the creaking under the wood indicating you were being carried up the stairs.

It's probably Joel who's lifted you like this with no effort at all, no chance it was Frank or Bill. Tess was already asleep too, and once she rested her head, there was no waking her. She slept like a rock.

You figure you're finally up the stairs as the steps steady, pushing the door open silently to the dark bedroom. Finally, you're placed down onto the soft bed, boots being tugged from your feet and placed on the floor. Rolling over a bit, you groan at the comfortable state of the bed.

Already comforted by the blankets, the heat of your body diminishes in the cool, dark room, as you doze off to sleep for the night.

As morning peeks through the shades of the cool bedroom, a pounding headache rammed behind your skull as your eyes inch open. Fluttering profusely, your pupils adjust to the rays of sunlight slowly, head still spinning.

Groaning at the pain, your eyes shift from the window to the side table, where there'd been a glass of water and two pills of Tylenol placed next to a small piece of paper. You sit upright in the bed, truly unable to recall the events of the previous night. The only thing you remembered vaguely was that second bottle of wine, one you regretted even picking up.

You reached for the note, headache only pounding harder as you attempted to read it.

For your head, since you really thought that second bottle of wine was a good idea. We've got breakfast made when you feel well enough. - Frank

It's at that moment you realize your mouth is bone dry, concluding on the fact that you hadn't drank one drop of water last night. As if a desperate plea for the quenching of your thirst, you drop the note in your lap abruptly, gravitating towards the very full glass of water sitting just a foot away.

The liquid slides down your throat as you desperately gulp it down, only stopping for a moment to pop both Tylenol into your mouth. After finishing the glass of water, you look down at the note again.

Signed Frank, but I've seen this handwriting before. Somewhere.. My hungover brain cannot remember right now for the life of me.

A yawn breaks through your chest, your hand instinctively going up to cover your mouth. When the smell of your breath hit your nose, it became apparent to you that you should probably take advantage of the hot and running water in the home.

Quickly, you threw the covers to the side, glancing down at your legs, body covered in the same clothes as yesterday. You didn't even dare attempt to sniff those articles of clothing, knowing how sweat stained they had become on the hike yesterday.

Yeah, you really needed to shower.

Standing from the bed now, you reach over to grab your bag, when you realize you've left it downstairs. Only when you look around the room is when you see a plain grey t-shirt sitting on the arm of a chair.

Tess's shirt, no doubt.

You pick it up and hold it in your hands, the scent of her sure enough surrounding your head.

As tempting as it would be to head back to sleep, you walk over to the bedroom door, opening it to the hallway. It seemed there was nobody remaining upstairs, evident due to the light conversation coming from downstairs. Your socked feet patter across the hall, peeping around a corner before b-lining straight for the bathroom.

Placing the clothing on the countertop, you reach into the shower and start the running water. As it slowly heats the small room, you stride over to a closet, pulling it open to find an abundance of everything you could've ever needed to bathe in the world before. Shampoos, conditioners, body wash, shaving cream and razors.

Wow, these guys really know how to keep inventory. They won't mind if I make use of some of this stuff, I definitely need it more than they do right now.

Steam fills the bathroom as you pull each article of sweat-stained clothing from your body, landing all together in a pile. As you pull the curtain back and step in, the warm water washes over your work-weathered body, goosebumps rising at the comfortably warm liquid.

It was euphoric, the temperature of clean, filtered water paired with the privacy of the shower.

You can only stand still as the dirt and other liquids patter to the tub floor, bringing you lighter in mood and vibrance as well.

As you scrub your scalp with the shampoo, the events of last night finally return to you.

Reading Little Women, admitting how you felt about Tess to Frank- the decision you told him you'd take the night on and think about.

You caught your head in your hands as embarrassment for yourself washed over you, much like the warm water of the shower.

"Ughh, I can't believe I told Frank that stuff.." Although you didn't regret it, not completely. The chat you had actually made you feel better, getting it off your chest after so long of holding it in.

You just wished it would be that easy to tell the person of your affection.

The spray of water from the shower ceased as you turned it off, stepping out onto the bath mat and wrapping a towel around you.

Regrettably, you had no other clothes to change into, so you pull on everything you'd worn the day before, except for your shirt. You put on the grey one for now.

Yep, it definitely smelled like Tess.

Pulling your cargo pants on, you stride out of the steam-filled bathroom, and your feet lead you into Bill and Frank's room.

Though you feel it's trespassing on an already stepped-over line, you head towards their closet, quickly opening the door and taking in the massive amount of flannel shirts hanging there.

Frank had impeccable taste in clothes, deciding to yank one or two of the darkly colored button ups from their hangers. You took a pair of socks as well, since yours had holes in them from their constant use.

You thought about not telling Frank about your thievery, but it's going to become imminent when you walk down the stairs with his shirts in your arms. So you shove them in your bag once you find it resting next to the bed.

Heading back into the guest bedroom, you pull the fresh pair of socks onto your feet, beginning to reach for your black boots sitting on the floor. Reaching down for one, you hear a knock at the door before you can grab it.

Quickly, you stride over to the door, expecting to see Frank or Bill on the other side with a message from your partners about hurrying to leave or something along those lines.

To your surprise, the face on the other side of the door is Tess.

Shit, Tess. The person you promised Frank you'd confess to last night over a drunken conversation.

She looks well rested, wearing a different shirt than the one from yesterday. It's a dark green, that compliments her eye color and the wisps of her caramel hair framing her face. Her hair is in that half up-half down bun, the rest of it resting behind her shoulders.

She looks fucking perfect, and you look like a wet dog, hair still damp from your shower.

"Hey, morning. How'd you sleep? I uh-" Tess is pulling at her collar awkwardly, standing in the same fashion as your eyes finally trail down to what she'd holding in her hands.

She had a plate in her grip, covered in freshly made, very appetizing breakfast foods. Some so freshly made, there was still steam coming off of it.

You're thankful in this moment to have taken those Tylenol earlier, or else the smell of any food whatsoever would've sent you hurling over the toilet like a hungover sorority girl.

"Oh my god, Tess. What is all this?" Your eyes widened in surprise, the smell catching your attention even before you had seen the plate of food in her hands.

"Well, you need a big breakfast for the journey back to Boston today, and I figured you could use it after last night.." A chuckle breaks through her chest, head dipping downwards before looking at your freshened state.

"Come- come in." You move aside for Tess to enter the bedroom, assuming you'd slept alone in here for the night. As she places the tray down on the bed, you sit down, Tess standing a few feet away.

"Tess, did you make this? What the hell- This looks amazing.. Eggs, sausage, hash browns? These are all my favorites.. Seriously, thank you. Wh-what can I do to make it up to you?"

"Well, first of all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And second of all, don't thank me, thank Bill and Frank, it's their food I cooked. Consider it a hangover cure. Once I get so drunk that I fall asleep in an armchair with a classic book in my lap, then you can pay me back. It better be a damn good breakfast." She chuckles again, in that low voice that keeps you up at night when you think about it.

The way it says your name, her low tone when she curses under her breath, the way she sounds in the early mornings when the sun still hasn't risen and she's drowsy enough to not make any sense in her muttering.

Tess went through all the trouble of making everything she knew you favored, the mere thought of her thinking about you as she cooked it all only made your enamor for her grow stronger, a fire of love burning behind your chest for the woman in front of you.

It's then she takes a seat on the bed with you, watching as you poke into the eggs and begin devouring the food on your plate. She wasn't leaving, by the looks of it.

In the middle of chewing your food, you speak again.

"Did Frank tell you I passed out down there?"

Her grin becomes larger now as her eyes move from the plate of food to your face as you consume your breakfast.

I wonder what else he told her. Hopefully nothing I haven't yet...

"No, I'm the one that found you, silly. Carried you up the stairs and put you to bed myself."

You continue chewing as your eyes widen, another realization from last night coming back to mind.

It wasn't Joel carrying you, it was Tess.

"You carried me up the stairs? Wow, I'm gonna have to start lifting weights if I have to do the same for you."

While you speak, you're enjoying every morsel of this delicious food Tess has made you, and you're grateful for her in so many more ways than you could express presently.

"You better," Tess says with a scoff. A couple more minutes pass by as you're finishing up the food on your plate. You notice that she's still sitting in the room with you, taking your silence as a sign of comfortability around her.

"So, what's up, Tess?" You say, shoving another fork full of hash browns into your mouth.

"Well, I came to check on you, since last night Frank told me you were drinking a whole 'nother bottle of wine by yourself.. and reading classic literature? For fun?" She laughs.. "I figured you might be hungover this morning and wanted to bring you something to fill your stomach. I can't have you fainting on me when we hike back to the QZ, now can I? Gotta keep your strength up, hun."

The name melts your heart a little and you smile. It was such a simple thing, one that indicated she cared about your wellbeing and didn't want to see you unwell.

"Yeah, always gotta be nourished and shit. Just human things, I guess. Though, a meal like this never gets old." You said with a smile.

It became more difficult to hold back the thoughts of holding and kissing the woman before you, her green button down shirt just aching to be pulled in order to kiss her. Those perfect hazel eyes of hers that resembled gems when they hit the sun just right, getting effortlessly lost in them every time they locked with yours. Her hands that completed her daily tasks so beautifully, with such care and concern in everything she did making you think she'd hold you the same way, love you the same beautiful way she did everything in her life with.

"I'm guessing you're feeling alright, then? Tylenol helped?" It was cute that Tess was still worrying about how you were feeling from the night before. Putting the fork down finally, you looked up at her.

"Yeah I- Wait, how'd you know I took Tylenol?" You hadn't mentioned anything to her about taking medicine.. so how did she know?

"Well I uh- I just.." She scoffed lightly before continuing, "I asked Frank to leave some by your bedside earlier and I was really worried about you, since yesterday. You don't drink like that unless something's bothering you."

Her eyes focused on you, hair lightly spilling over her shoulder, and she's in the moment with you now more than she had ever been. It's almost like she's reading you when you glance up again, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

"I know, Tess. It's just-" you sigh, thumbs fiddling with each other, palms beginning to prick ever so lightly with sweat.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?" Her voice was sweet and soft, lowering a bit to hopefully ease your worries. One of her hands grabs yours, and the sensation is enough to make the breath in your lungs hitch.

If there was any perfect moment to confess, this was it.

"Tess, there's something I need to tell you." A slight quiver of your voice tells her that this thing that had been bothering you clearly meant a lot. You keeping things from her wasn't a common occurrence, which only happens when something was beyond frustrating for you to talk about.

"Okay, what is it?"

You're infuriatingly beautiful and I want to kiss you right now.

"It's the fact that I'm over here pining like an idiot for you and you can't even see it.." You mutter, not wanting to look Tess's way for fear of judgment or rejection. She notices, and in that very moment she longs to see the fire in your eyes burn its brightest. "It's the fact that- that I love you, and you probably love someone else.."

"Someone else?" Tess scoffed, "And who do you think that is, huh?"

"I don't know.. Joel, maybe.." Head still hung, your hands shake slightly, chest filled to the brim with uneasiness and anxiety.

Was it just you, or did the temperature in here get hotter?

"Y/n, look at me." You hesitate for a moment, then slowly your eyes move from their locked position on your hands.

Tess's hands are fidgeting in her lap too, you notice.

The second you lift your head, the glossy state of your eyes catches her attention, and her face eases once you're looking directly at her. Tess's bottom lip catches between her teeth for a moment, and she glances down swiftly, then back up at you.

"Joel and I are nothing but friends, you understand? I don't want him, never have." The words hit your ears and it's as if a weight lights off your shoulders.

It's the most clarifying moment that makes you giddy to spill everything onto her lap.

"Tess.." you breathe, closing your eyes for a moment and making a decision, "Please don't shoot me for this..."

You begin to lean in towards her, eyelids hooded as you glance down to her lips, watching intently as she does the same. It feels like an eternity before you're close enough to pick up on her natural scent, consuming your brain and going fuzzy upon the close proximity.

A warm tingling fills your hands as they brush over Tess's thighs and hover just over the dark denim covering them.

Once, twice, three times you glanced down at her lips, pausing to drag your eyes across her flawless face.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or what?" Her snarky tone pulls your eyes back to gaze into her hazel ones, almost getting lost in them before getting the courage to do something you couldn't come back from.

"Shut up," You say, before your hands grab onto her collar, and pull her lips to yours. Her kiss takes your breath away, crawling into her lap, collar of Tess's shirt still in your grip. Sparks flicker in your chest, and they're coming off of Tess's as well, deepening the kiss with another push of your lips against hers.

The weight of you in her lap pulls a groan from the woman opposite you, separating your lips from hers. You almost couldn't pull away, but the thought of hurting her made your worry jump a mile high.

"Shit.. Are-are you okay?" Tess gives you another peck on your lips, before trailing her eyes down your face and neck. The smirk on her face makes the heat from your cheeks travel down your torso.

"Oh, I'm better than ever... you wanna know why?"

Nodding your head fervently, her hands trail up your shirt to your collar, watching as her pupils dilate around the hazel in her eyes. The grasp on your shirt is tight, even tighter when she beckons you impossibly closer to her. The next moment, she's pulling your lips to hers in another passionate kiss. Your lips are pressed together for so long, it feels like you're out of breath by the time she pulls away.

"It's because I love you." The three words fall from her lips like a siren beckoning you with its song. Her voice has never sounded more perfect, and when she says those words to you, it's an indescribable amount of joy that fills your chest.

Her panting is an indication of not being able to breathe, but she doesn't fucking care if she got to kiss you like that.

"You love me, too?" Out of curiosity, you ask again, just to make sure it registers in your brain. Disbelief makes your heart jump, even though you've just kissed her, and you never wanted to stop.

Even though she told you she felt the same way, it was still a dream.

"Of fucking course I do. Ever since I took care of you, those few months you were living in my apartment. How could I not?" One of her hands trails up your face, brushing some stray hairs obstructing her view, so she could look at you fully.

The woman you've pined after for years has loved you all the same, and the realization feels a lot like you've wasted so much time behind a closed door. Sleepless nights went by with you writing about her in your journal, detailing all the ways you would love her if she only loved you back.

Tess adored you, she just hadn't let herself show it or feel any other way than a friend, and she'd been terrified to lose you if she fucked any of that up. The years and years of pining built to this very moment, tension in the room thick as you gazed at her lovingly.

"Tess.. kiss me again..."

It was a desperate plea for that fucking woman to press your lips to hers so you could taste her even stronger than you thought you could handle.

"I don't think I'll be able to stop if I do." Her low voice made your legs tremble, a new kind of desire growing due to her.

"Then don't." Your lips clashed together with hers, tongues exploring each other's mouths in a feverish attempt to taste even more of you than she already had.

The truth was, she had all of you for a long time, and now she couldn't imagine needing anything more.

A soft moan is pulled from your chest as Tess's teeth nip at your bottom lip. The both of you seem breathless as you pull away again, but every time you glance down at her swollen lips is when you want to just press them to yours over and over again.

"God, you're so beautiful, it's hard to look directly at you sometimes." Her words catch you off guard, feeling your eager hands travel up her neck, one resting on her shoulder while the other sneaks your fingers between her soft strands of hair. Twirling a lock of it, the blush on your face makes her smirk.

"Stop it, I mean just look at yourself. You're so hot and intimidating and perfect and-"

"You saying you're not those things?" Her brows furrow in distaste, because how dare you suggest otherwise.

"I'm saying you are. Pretty girl." A giggle erupts from your chest, raking your fingers through her hair with appreciation.

"If you don't say you're all of those things right this second, love, I'm just gonna have to prove it to you. And you know I will."

Your eyebrows raise, wanting to pull a little sneaky trick on her.

"Say that I'm what?" The smirk on your face makes Tess blush a little, chuckling to herself because she knows exactly what you're doing.

"Say that you're..." One of her hands goes to the top button of your shirt and unbuttons it as she places a quick peck on your cheek, "Perfect, intimidating, hot, everything I want.. God, fuck. Look at what you do to me.."

Her nimble fingers trail down your shirt, undoing each button carefully, letting the shirt fall open to your sides. Hands rest on the skin of your sides, just under the shirt you're wearing. Her shirt you're wearing.

"Tess.." You sigh breathlessly, still trying to gain back whatever air was pulled out of your lungs just a moment earlier.

"Hmm? Tell me what you want, baby." She tilts her head ever so slightly, the smirk on her face only enlarging when she sees the desire in your lust-blown eyes. Her pet name all but pulls a squeal from your chest, scrunching your nose upon hearing her low words.

"I want you, Tess. God, I want all of you.. But we can't-" Your hands run up and down her sides, shaking ever so slightly at her intimidating smirk.

"We can do anything we want, sweetheart. I've got you, now. No one's gonna take you away from me, ever. And no one's taking me from you. Got it?"

It's so warm, so Tess, such a loving and nurturing side of her that spills those words into your chest like a goddamn golden light, and it brings tears to your eyes. Sniffling, you try to blink them away every second they threaten to fall from your eyes.

The close proximity of her immediately pulls you into a safe hug, tears dropping on the cloth of her shirt, dampening the fabric bit by bit. Her hand rubs up and down your back, comfort surrounding you in the moment like nothing else in the world.

"So-sorry, Tess, I didn't mean to get your shirt all wet," You say, pulling back from her embrace, "I'm just.. so fucking happy because I love you and- and you're finally mine."

The words come out like the easiest thing in the world, like you could tell her your deepest darkest secrets and she'd still love you completely as you are.

"Aw, you look so pretty when you're in love. 'Bout the most perfect thing in the whole world to me, pretty girl."

"Well, yeah. It's all your fault that I'm crying like a sap, dummy." You playfully punch her shoulder and wipe your face, tears finally ceasing their descent from your eyes.

"You love me that much, huh?" This time, Tess's smile is sweet, intimate and all but this time your eyes lock with hers in a deep gaze.

"Love you even more than that, Tess." A giggle erupts from your chest as her lips press ever so lightly to your neck, ghosting feather light kisses across your skin. Before she pulls back, she attaches her lips to your skin and sucks obsessively, in the same spot. A particularly sensitive spot she gets to pulls a whimper from your chest, the sound making her pull away from kissing you, eyebrows raised with curiosity.

"What was that, baby?" You whimper again, embarrassment washing over you while your cheeks are being painted with a blush.

"Need you, Tess. Need you so bad.." The last word comes out rather quickly, hips rolling against hers ever so slightly.

"I'm right here, honey. Tell me what you need from me, and I'll give it to you." Her words come out like a plead, work-worn hands and fingers trailing over the waistband of your pants. "Come on, we don't have much time. Joel wants to get on the road soon.."

Oh God. Joel. Bill. Frank.

Your thoughts freeze and think to the three other men in the house, or probably somewhere nearby, if not lingering just a few feet away down the stairs.

"Shit, should we-"

"Yes, my love, we should. After all this time, we should."

"But the door-"

The bedroom door; it was swung almost completely open.

"Guess you better be quiet then." She mutters, voice low with lust and the need for you to fall apart for her just once before their travels.

"Tess-" You whimper breathlessly, and before you can speak another word, her lips attach to yours again. Her hair smells like lavender, and her lips taste like strawberries.

"Do you trust me?" She asks, wanting to know you're okay with her going further.

"You know I do. I trust you with my life." You reply, almost immediately. Her soft eyes gaze into yours and she nods.

It's the most perfect vision of Tess you've had your entire life, and nothing in this world could tear you away from that.

Once you feel her hands unbuckling your pants successfully, one of her hands slips down under the fabric, bypassing your underwear right down to where she knows you need her.

Her middle and ring finger slide through the arousal between your legs, and the second she feels you throbbing against her, is when her kisses trail from your mouth to your neck.

"Tess, fuck-" You whimper out, as her fingertips swirl around the most sensitive part of you.

"Needy girl, aren't you? So gorgeous..." The smirk on her face turns devious when her eyes meet yours again, catching how your face contorts with pleasure under her doing.

Another mewl leaves your chest, nodding fervently once again.

"Shit, all wet for me? You really know how to make a woman happy.." The slight laughter from her chest makes you clench around nothing. Nothing, until her fingers pursue lower than your sensitive bundle of nerves. Deep breaths of air make your chest heave, and Tess is only relishing in the way you're falling apart completely for her.

Before you feel her fingers prodding at your entrance, your hand grabs her forearm and she halts her movements.

"What about you?" Your eyes seem to beg for her without saying another word more, and she hesitates for a moment, until she speaks.

"You don't have to, love. You feeling good makes me feel good and-"

She pauses her words, because your doe eyes make whatever was left of her resolve break, the instant she looks into them.

"Alright, baby. Go ahead, touch me.. I need you, too." A smile breaks out onto your face, hands gravitating towards her belt, undoing it as fast as she can complete her sentence to satisfy you.

One of your hands slips down between her legs, watching as her eyes close in bliss at the first light drag of your fingers down her heat.

"Fuck.." Her head gets thrown back while her eyes shut at the amount of pleasure and love you have for her in that very moment. Tess curses under her breath as you begin slow circles on her most sensitive part of her body, goosebumps trailing all over her skin.

"Now who's the needy one?" She glances back up to your eyes, and just like that, her intimidating demeanor returns.

You almost yelp aloud when she pushes a finger inside of you, but her lips press against yours before you could do so. The fervent exchange of moans between each swirl of your fingers, and each thrust of Tess's fingers inside of you makes the moment feel infinite.

Everything you've ever wanted, you finally had.

She was yours to touch, to hold, to please. Tess gave you all of her, completely and irrevocably.

"Tess.. fuck, I love you.. I- never wanna be with anyone else but you.." Your tone of voice is pitched higher, submerged in the pleasure she brought. She could tell you were inching closer to release with every swirl of her fingers.

"I love you, baby. With everything inside of me. It's you. Only you.. Now be a good girl and come with me."

"Are you gonna-"

"Yeah, I am. Fuck- keep going, just like that. Cmon, baby." The hand that wasn't inside your pants snuck up to your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling in silent demand.

Sighing dreamily, Tess pulled her fingers out of you and rubbed incessantly at your precious bundle of nerves, triggering your hips to rock against hers.

"Tess.." You moan out loud, almost too loud for the people downstairs to hear, but at the same time, you don't care. Not when Tess is giving you the most pleasure you think you've ever experienced in your life.

"I love it when you moan my name.. Say it again." Her fingers swirl to no end, feeling a jolt of pleasure wash through you as your high began to rush towards you.

"Tess, fuck. Oh my god Tess- baby I'm gonna come.." Your sounds are uncontrollable now as your release is beckoning you further.

"Yeah, hun? Gonna come for me?" Your hand speeds up your movements on her sensitive bud of nerves, another low moan leaving her chest, dripping with desire.

"Oh, baby, I'm-I'm.."

"Me too baby, yeah..." Tess calls out, her movements on your clit pushing you over the edge, her high washing over her intensely.

A few more filthy moans leave your chest, release crashing over you like a wave, running throughout your body with relief, your partner helping you ride it out before you finally look back up at her.

Sweat adorns her skin, chest heaving as she pulls her fingers from your pants. You do the same, only watching as she licks her fingers seductively. Another wave of pleasure threatens to overtake you, just by watching her do that.

"Holy shit... that was amazing. I knew your hands were good for more than just holding a gun and punching people." Your head tilts back the slightest bit as you try to catch your breath after the immense pleasure washed over you only moments ago.

"For our first time, that's nothing compared to what I've been thinking about doing to you for months now.." The smirk on her face threatens the rise of arousal again, though you're too exhausted now to even think about doing that, with what a long journey you've got ahead of you.

"You-" Tess raises an eyebrow at your speechlessness, "are the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and you chose to love me. Isn't that something."

Your words make her blush again, leaving a few small pecks on your cheeks, before pressing one to your lips again. Then, Tess's hands reach to your pants once more, doing the zipper up and buttoning them so she could do the same to hers.

"Well, I don't think we choose who we love. But if it was.. it's because you're the most perfect person in the world. Isn't that something.."

You look to Tess with a soft smile, one that makes both of you appreciate the domesticity of your conversation at hand.

"Yeah, it is," You say, taking her hands in yours and interlocking your fingers together, "So, what does all this make us?"

You catch Tess staring into your eyes again, and it takes a second for her to respond.

"Well, I'm already in love with you, so whatever you want, I want it too. I'm all in, for you. That sound good?"

God, you've waited forever to hear those words.

Attaching your lips with hers, it's a slow, soft kiss, almost stopping time with how you craved more every second that went by. As you pull away, Tess looks radiant in the sunlight that's pouring through the window even more now.

Her words turn you speechless, already knowing you called her 'mine' but hearing it from the velvet voice of your lover made your heart swell ten times bigger.

"It sounds wonderful, Tess." You lean in for another kiss, soft and sweet, until you pull back again, "You'll have to teach me how to open wine bottles, though."

"Nah, I think I'd rather just keep doing it for you." Your lips locked in another kiss, one you wished would last forever.

"Oh, one more thing," Tess goes digging in her back pocket, pulling out a blue tube, "Deodorant. You stink like sex."

"And whose fault is that?" You quip, grabbing the tube from her and rubbing it under your armpits.

Tess shrugged, almost pulling you in for another kiss, until the sound of a male voice from downstairs snapped both of you out of the daydream.

"Shit, Joel. He's gonna be mad that I took so long up here.. that-that we took so long-" You begin to speak, pulling yourself from the bed, reaching down to slip your boots on.

"Joel Miller is not gonna say anything when he sees that hickey." Tess mumbles, standing from the bed as well, adjusting her shirt from where you'd grasped it before.

"What mark? Oh, Tess.. you didn't.." You rush over to the mirror hanging on the wall, and pull your collar to the side abruptly to see the darkening purple bruise on your neck. You scoff, only buttoning up your shirt with haste to get out the door.

"I did. Couldn't help myself, you know. You're all mine now, had to make sure everyone in Boston knows you're spoken for."

She walks up behind you, placing her hands on your hips as you continue buttoning the flannel up. You scoff, flipping your head around to kiss her on the lips again.

"Yeah, well did you have to make it so dark?" You questioned, knowing she could've gone lighter but didn't.

"You already know the answer to that. Now c'mon, let's not keep the man waiting." Tess pulls you by your hand to the door, looking back once more as you exit the room and walk down the stairs with her hand in yours.

Just as you thought he'd be, Joel was pacing downstairs with his pack already on his back.

"There y'all are.. was starting to get worried about- Oh." The tall, Texan man clears his throat when his eyes spot the mark on your neck, eyes immediately avoiding yours.

"Yeah.. I'll grab our packs and meet you outside. Cool?" Tess says, before sharing a look with Joel, not saying anything more as he turns to walk out to the front yard. Her hand slips from yours every so slightly, and you already miss the warmth and love in her contact the second it drops from you.

"Hey, wait- where's Frank?" You call out to Joel, but he's already to the gate of their yard before he can hear you.

"In here!" Frank's voice comes from the living room, and you saunter over to him.

"Hey, morning. Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything. What you said to me last night, and just your hospitality and all you're gonna help us with when we start working together. I mean it- I'm really grateful."

Frank looks up from the vinyl he's sifting through, and meets your eyes with a compassionate smile.

"I take it this morning went... well?" He gestures to the mark on your neck, one of your hands going up to sheepishly cover it, a bit embarrassed that you let her go that far.

"Oh, um. Yeah, very well. I did that thing we talked about." As soon as the words hit his ears, he's grinning from ear to ear and throws his arms around you with a tight embrace, one that caught you off guard, but you hugged back, nonetheless. The smile is still beaming on his face as he pulls away.

"I knew it would go well. You two.." He shakes his head, hands on his hips, "Sparks were basically flying over lunch yesterday, every time one of you looked at each other.. Wait- Is that my shirt? Nevermind, keep it. Looks better on you anyway."

Frank laughs at the realization that you didn't have fresh clothes after showering, so he understood.

"Seriously, thank you. For everything, again."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm such a matchmaker. Now go, run to your lover, and never let her go, okay? She's one special woman."

"Yeah, that she is.." Your gaze shifts from Frank to Tess appearing in the doorway with your pack in her hand.

"Oh, one more thing." Frank hands you the books you'd taken down from their shelves last night, Little Women and Pride and Prejudice. "Don't worry, Bill said it's alright. He doesn't read classics, anyways. You'll come back, and we'll trade."

That's the last thing Frank says before Tess beckons you back to her.

"You ready to go? Joel's gonna lose his marbles if we make him wait any longer, so.." Tess asks you, standing a few feet away, but it felt like miles before you could get back to her.

"Oh, God forbid a man wait on two fine ladies, such as yourselves." Frank says, turning Tess's way as you walk towards her, grabbing your pack from her hand and putting the two books into it, before slinging it onto your back.

"You make a good point, but he's gonna be grouchy the whole hike. He'll be done with our lovesick asses once we get back to the QZ." You say with a giggle, pressing a quick kiss to Tess's lips.

"Well, it's been lovely having you here, I'm not sure where Bill's run off to, but I'm sure he says goodbye as well. I'll walk you to the gate, since there's an idea I have as to how we can communicate back and forth on the radio.. I'll tell you on the way."

Frank follows you both out the door, spotting Bill already at the gate, the same holster with his pistol sticking out from his otherwise plain outfit.

As Joel finally spots the three of you coming from the house, he darts right out of their front yard, b-lining for the gate.

"Guess he's got a new friend..." You mutter to Tess, Joel's steps bringing him towards the gate faster than you three were walking.

"Maybe he just doesn't wanna look at the huge hickey on your neck." She retorts, her reasoning better than anything else you came up with.

Chuckling, you nudge her side, hands falling beside each other's before locking your fingers together again.

Frank catches up, walking alongside Tess as he begins to explain his idea for communication back and forth.

"So, I had this idea that we should use codes for the radio, in case anyone's listening."

"That's a good idea. Like, with what?" Tess tilts her head over to the man in curiosity.

"I was thinking, like, the decades. Like- 80's, trouble, of course." Frank states, as if he's put immense thought into something as simple as this.

"Yeah..?"

"70's- for when we get new stuff to trade with.. and 60's for not having anything new. Sound good?"

"Yeah, Frank. That's actually really clever. I mean, I wouldn't have thought of that. Right, babe?" It's the first use of any pet name around people, and you can tell it puts Tess in a lighter mood just by hearing you say it.

"Right. Well, radio back to me when you guys are ready to start our business together." He reaches out to shake Tess's hand, "Otherwise, it has been lovely having you three here, and I'm so ecstatic to have you back whenever." Frank stood still, watching you all walk ahead.

The sound of Joel's boots on the pavement approaching you all force you to turn your heads towards the third partner in your group.

"What are y'all lookin' at? Let's head out, already. Whenever you lovebirds are done.."

Grumpy exterior, but an ally, all the same.

"What are we gonna do with him..."

"Yeah, he's not nearly as much fun as you." Nudging her shoulder again, your bottom lip catches between your teeth for a slight moment. Tess's hair is blowing in the wind slightly, and you can't help but smile at the beauty of the woman you called the love of your life.

You share a look between Tess's eyes and your own, before tugging her along as you walk ahead, attached by a soul tie at your hands, linked together for a lifetime.

#ryesff #devnmon writes #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopolous x female reader #tlou fanfic #tlou #lesbian #lgbt #other characters for exposure:#Joel Miller #Ellie Williams #The Last of Us fanfiction #tlou smut #The Last of Us #anna torv #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #bella ramsey

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 1 year

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Decisions, Decisions

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Notes - If this is ooc or some things are wrong I’m sorry! I literally know nothing about tlou other than what I’ve seen from episode one.

Prompt - ‘Sometimes you make the wrong decision and that leads you to the right decision.’

The thing about the end of the world is that nobody expected it. Sure it was a thing everyone knew would happen one day, one of the many, indisputable facts of life, but nobody ever thought it would happen to them. When people pictured the end of the world it was usually a wave of fire and panic before nothing, everyone expected nothingness at the end of the world.

So when the world did end on some random day in September people didn’t realise it for what it was, not yet. There was no end worlding bang, no thing in the sky falling down to destroy everything.

There was panic though, God was there panic. Every person was consumed by that panic, that fear of what was happening, so consumed that they couldn’t think past it, couldn’t think about whether there was a future after this.

It was the end of the damned world and yet the world stayed standing.

There was fire, a lot of fire, cities, houses, cars and planes went up in flames, smoke spreading fast and thick until people struggled to breathe through it. There was screaming too, people lay on the ground screaming as the dead bit into them, people screamed as they ran from the dead who moved too quick, people screamed as the military raised their weapons and shot them just because they had been ordered to.

The world stayed standing but everything else ended.

Communications had long since stopped working, if you were alone when it happened then you were alone for good…at least for a while. If you were one of the lucky ones you kept yourself safe until you could get taken in by the official quarantine zones. If you weren’t lucky then the dead would make quick but painful work of you.

Those were the two kinds of people nowadays, the lucky and the unlucky, the dead and the survivors.

Then there was you.

You weren’t lucky, you weren’t a survivor. When the world ended you had panicked along with everyone else. You were alone in Texas, it hadn’t even been a month since you moved out there for some job you had sworn was going to change your life.

You had no idea how you survived as long as you had, months into the outbreak or whatever this thing was, you were tired. The panic still existed, it consumed your every waking minute, you paused before turning a corner, held your breath at a creak in the house. You were trying to make your way to one of the safety points the government had set up, the ones closest to you all filled and your feet ached as every car you passed failed to work.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, tired of being scared, tired of being alone, you were tired of being tired.

So when you left a house you had spent the night in and heard a noise to your right you knew you had a split second to make your decision. Did you want to die? No, of course you didn’t, the answer came to you straight away but then so did the next question; did you want to live?

The answer didn’t come to you so clearly this time. You didn’t want to die but what was there to live for anymore. This was the world now, no hope, no cures, nothing. Why would anyone want to live in this world? It wasn’t living anymore, it was surviving one day just to survive the next.

And that was your answer wasn’t it, there was nothing to live for so why were you still fighting?

You saw it coming for you out of the corner of your eyes before you scrunched them shut, bracing yourself for the pain and hoped it would be quick. You felt its hand grab you before it went limp and fell to the floor and you let out a shuddering breath as your eyes flew open and down to the ground before turning to look around.

You weren’t lucky, you weren’t a survivor; you were something else. You were saved, saved by a man who looked as tired as you were, saved by a man who look like he was carrying a hefty weight on his shoulders, a man who scowled and shook his head as he snapped at you, asking what the hell you were thinking.

As he stepped closer to you your mind began running at a mile a minute. The main thing you felt was relief, thankful this man had made a decision for you, thankful he hadn’t left your fate up to you.

When he was close enough you didn’t even think, you couldn’t think properly, instead you threw your arms around him and hugged yourself to his chest. The man let out a small huff as he went tense in your arms before he sighed and wrapped your shaking figure in his arms.

“You’re ok.” He told you, his voice was gruff as he spoke and you couldn’t stop the sob that left you, one of the man’s hands lifting to cup the back of your head.

It had been so long since you had spoken to another person, you didn’t know who to trust these days but months of isolation were bound to make you just a little bit desperate for human contact.

“Sorry,” you said as you pulled away, voice croaky from not speaking for so long. “Sorry, I um, thank you.”

“You’re alright.” He told you again before his eyes ran over you, checking for something before his frown deepened. “Where’s your weapon?”

They were already dead, kept moving by whatever virus or parasite had infected them but still…it had never sat right with you to kill them. So you didn’t. It had been months since the world ended and you hadn’t killed a single one of them.

You weren’t a survivor, you weren’t lucky. You were careful and you calculated every single move you made.

You were tired.

“I don’t have a weapon.” You watched his frown deepen even more if it were possible.

“You don’t have a- how the hell have you stayed alive?” He asked you and you couldn’t do more than shrug at him. “You were ready to let that thing get you.”

It wasn’t a question, he had witnessed it himself and you weren’t going to correct him. Both of you knew you were grateful for his intervention.

Joel got it, he really did. Some days it took all his energy to not put a bullet in his own head or be done with it and let the dead have at him. The months since Sarah had been killed, had died in his arms, had been the worst of his life. He got you being ready to leave it all behind because most days he was right there with you.

And Joel looked at you and saw himself. He saw the tiredness, the bone deep exhaustion, he saw the hurt and the brokenness that felt like it would never mend. He saw himself in you but he also saw you, he saw the way you didn’t carry a weapon, he had watched a moment that was probably your most vulnerable and he had watched the relief in your features as you fell against him.

It didn’t take him much longer to make his decision.

“C’mon we gotta make the most of the daylight.” Joel said after a few moments of silence and began moving before you could even register his words.

In the span of five minutes you were making two life altering choices, you regretted you first decision but you had a feeling you were making the right decision this time and trailed after Joel as he led the way and for the first time in months it felt easier to breath as you made your way through the city, watching as Joel lay a protective arm in front of you, pushing you behind him, as he dealt with the dead.

__________

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dameronology · 1 year

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you and me [joel miller] - 1/2

"now i've had time to think it over, we're much older and the bone's too big to bury" - jaded, miley cyrus. a.k.a the one where you and joel see each other again and don't know what the fuck to do

warnings: angst, swearing, break-ups, swearing again because my god there is a lot, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death, no tlou 2 spoilers but probably some spoilers from the show. ok i think that's it.

this is my first full length joel fic and tbh i'm not even sure i've got the hang of his character lol. also, it's been about four years since i played the game and i'm writing this from memory of that and the show so pls forgive any inaccuracies. hope you enjoy. xx

jazz

p.s there will deffo be a part 2 to this lol dw

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Life outside the Quarantine Zone was different.

It was both better and worst; better because there was no military breathing down your back, but worst because the Infected roamed free. It made Joel more tense - even when he kept you firmly behind him, rifle ready to go and finger itching on the trigger - to know that they could be anywhere. Sure, the military sucked but the biggest threat now was the Infected, and you'd come to learn a long time ago that there was no point arguing with his overprotectiveness. It was warranted, after everything he'd been through, so you operated under three rules: he went first, you went second, and if anyone was going to die first, it was going to be him. That last part was the one you loathed the most but he wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

Still, there were moments outside the QZ where he could let his guard down. When you were far enough away from civilisation, and far enough away from any hoards, he would let himself exist beside you, peacefully and at rest. Those nights camping - sometimes on the way to Bill and Frank's, or on a smuggling run - were his favourite. Sometimes it was beneath the stars, or beneath a tangle of trees. It was a tiny insight into what things could have been like in another life, without outbreaks and infected and constantly being on the move. They were moments he craved but so often, you found yourself hating them. Mostly because you knew they would eventually come to an end, but also because it was proof that you could exist out of the QZ. You'd felt like the place had been suffocating you for months. For you, it felt like a death sentence. Joel didn't love them either but he liked that you were both safe there. He could easily find you amongst the walls and you only ever left together. The thing that he thought was keeping you together was actually, in your mind, the thing that was driving you apart.

You'd pose the idea to him (for the tenth time) on a cold night, about four miles outside of the Boston QZ. The two of you had set up camp in the thickness of a forest; your tent was older than your respective ages combined and the fire was dwindling, but you were both content. Joel was leant against a tree, an arm wrapped around you and keeping you firmly to his side, free hand ready on his gun.

"I don't think I want to go back."

Joel peered down at you, quirking an eyebrow. "The hell are you talking about?"

"To the QZ," you said. "I don't want to go back to the QZ."

"This again?" he sighed - but you couldn't ignore the way his grip on you grew tighter. Tenser. "We've spoken about this a thousand times. The QZ is safe. It's...it's our home."

"Just because our stuff is that doesn't mean it's home," you murmured. "After this run, we could just take our stuff and go. We know the way out, we know how to run at this point, don't we?"

"It's dangerous out here," Joel reminded you. "We know how to be out here for limited periods of time. Those routes, those safe spaces and uninfected areas will run out eventually. So will our resources."

You sighed, sniffing. "Yeah. You're right. It's a silly idea."

"Hey...look, baby, don't get all mopey on me now," he shuffled slightly to the side, gently placing his hand on your cheek. "The main thing is that we have each other, wherever that may be. We've just gotta stick to the QZ for now but I promise, I'll get us out eventually. Just hang in there."

"Of course," you gave him a smile.

"It's you and me," he quietly added. "That's what matters."

"You and me," you'd replied. "I promise."

Still, Joel couldn't deny that he'd seen the light in you withering - the light that seemed to come back every time you were outside of the QZ. He knew you were stubborn; that once you had an idea in your head, that was it.

That's why he wasn't surprised to find you gone two weeks later.

2 0 2 3

Joel, my love,

I'm sorry. I'm never going to stop being sorry, but I tried to tell you a thousand times and you never listened.

I couldn't live that way any longer. I wanted to leave the QZ the day I got there, but then I met you, and I stayed longer than I ever imagined. You made it bearable - more than that. I just couldn't carry on anymore, especially knowing that the outside world may not be all that bad. It would be even better with you, but I can't force you to do something so drastic when you don't want to. That's not fair on you, but forcing myself to stay wouldn't be fair on me. Putting myself first feels like the worst thing in the world right now, but I have to do this. For me. I hope you can understand. I love you and I don't think I'll ever stop. I hope we cross paths again one day. It's you and me, always.

Joel Miller carried two things with, always. Three things, actually; his rifle, the letter you wrote him, and the grief that you'd left in your wake. It wasn't your fault - and Joel didn't blame you, not one bit - but he couldn't help but feel like it was his. You'd told him you'd been struggling and as he often did with his own emotions, he'd forced you to swallow it down. He thought that would have kept you together but unsurprisingly, it had driven you away.

Life, as it always had, went on. People came and went - though you never came back - and before long, Joel found himself trekking through Wyoming for the second time. Ellie had consumed all his priorities at that point. She had healed more than one of his wounds, but the night she'd found that letter in his bag and began asking questions had re-awoken Joel's yearning for you.

"Joel Miller, a relationship man? I never would have thought," she'd joked. And she hadn't really stopped asking questions since. She'd wanted to know how you met, how you fell in love, and most of all, why you'd left. Though, it didn't take a genius to guess.

The first time Joel had been in Jackson, he hadn't actually spent much time in Jackson. He'd been in the workshop, then in the bar with Tommy, and then he'd left with Ellie not long after. Now that he was there for the foreseeable future, he found himself wandering one morning. Ellie was still dead to the world, and he'd taken it as an opportunity to see what the fuss was actually all about.

Joel had never believed in ghost towns; maybe that was what this place had been for a while, but most of his ghosts resided back in Texas and Boston. Not Jackson. He had no history here; no one except from Tommy knew he was. Maybe he liked it that way. Maybe that was his chance for a fresh start, for him, and for Ellie...and for you, apparently.

He felt like he had seen a ghost the first time he saw you again. Coming in from patrol with Tommy and Maria, you were leading a horse at the front of the pack. You didn't look any older - if anything, the freedom and comfort that Jackson had brought you had de-aged you slightly. You were radiant; beautiful and shining and with the spark that Joel had always feared he'd strangled out of you by forcing you to stay in the QZ.

He hadn't meant to call out your name. It just sort of happened. It had been a whisper at first, actually, growing into a shout as he crossed the town square and towards the gates. You'd recognised his voice straight away but you hadn't actually believed it to be him. It wasn't until you saw him coming towards you that you realised. It hit you like a truck; actually Joel hit you like a truck, because he hadn't really thought about hugging you, and you in too much disbelief to hug him, so you sort of just fell to the ground in a pile-of-you-and-Joel-and-snow.

"What the fuck, Joel?!" your words had been muffled, on account for the mouthful of snow you had. "What the...what are you doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"You didn't answer my question," you shot back. Joel stood up, sticking out his hand to help you up. You were happy to see him - and he was happy to see you - but before the happiness, there was the other a thousand complex emotions that had risen in your time apart. "How on Earth did you get here from Boston?"

"Couldn't I be asking you all the same things?!" he'd demanded. He sighed, then, and faltered for a moment. "Shit. I can't believe it's you."

Joel took a deep breath, anger fading; he finally held his arms open to you, taking you into a warm, desperate hug for the first time in five years. Your bodies practically thudded together, arms tangled into one as you clung onto him. You didn't regret leaving - not one bit, now that you were here, not that you were free - but god, there had been days where you would have traded all of that freedom for one more day with Joel. There were no radios here, so you'd hadn't a clue if he was even still alive.

It had been worst for him, because he did have a radio. And he spent days waiting by it, hearing story after story about people being found dead, or new Infected being found by the walls of QZ. They had matched your description on more than one occasion, and after a while, he'd just assumed the worst.

Tommy cleared his throat. "I won't ask, but if you need a moment, the bar is empty."

You glanced at Joel. "Yeah. Thanks Tommy."

Trudging to the bar, with Joel in tow, you walked in silence. It wasn't that you didn't have anything to say, it was just that you didn't know where to start. You'd gone over this scenario a thousand times in your head but now that it had actually happened, you were speechless.

The bar was, as promised, completely dead. You stepped inside and locked the door behind you, heading straight to the whiskey shelf. A double Glen Morangie for you, and a double of the cheapest stuff for Joel. That had always been his favourite.

You took a seat opposite him, sliding the drink to him.

Joel's dark eyes flickered to the drink and then back up to you. "You remembered?"

"I didn't forget a single thing," you shot back. "I promise."

"It's funny - and forgive me if I sound shitty for saying this, but I hope you can understand my position right now - but your promises...I can't say they mean much," he murmured.

You faltered slightly, heart dropping in your chest. "I don't blame for you being angry at me, Joel. I left you and obviously that hurt but can't you see it from my perspective? I was drowning. You could see that I was fucking drowning and you just...you ignored me. You brushed it aside because of what you wanted-"

"- I wanted you," he cut you off. Joel downed his drink in one gulp, slamming the glass back on the table. "All I fucking wanted was you."

"You wanted me in the QZ," you reminded him. "I told you I couldn't stay. A thousand times, Joel, and you ignored me on every single occasion."

"And leaving was the solution?"

"Yeah," you said firmly. "Yeah, it was. I wondered for a while, maybe two years or so, and then I joined a bunch of other stragglers and we ended up here."

"And Jackson isn't suffocating?"

"When I can come and go as I please? When we have running water, electricity, houses and infrastructure?" you couldn't help but let out a derivative laugh. "For what it's worth, I've missed you."

Joel's angry guard quickly came down with your admission. He reached a hand out across the table, brushing a thumb over your palm.

"I've missed you too," he murmured. "The people on the radio...they always spoke about finding bodies and Infected, ones that matched your description. I assumed after a while you were dead."

"I'm sorry," you softly said. "I wish you knew how many times I thought about turning back. Even recently, I thought about it, but I was scared I was gonna come back and find you dead, or even worst that I would find you alive and that you wouldn't want to know-"

"- you think that me rejecting you is worst than me dying?" Joel raised an eyebrow, trying to fight back a smile. "You're always so fuckin' dramatic."

You smiled. "Yeah, I know."

"It hurt, y'know," he went quieter again, voice dropping to a whisper. "You leaving...I knew you spoke about it but I didn't think you'd do it. Not without me, at least. Not when I promised to try and get us out-"

"- you hurt me too, Joel," you admitted. "It was all well and good to say one day, I promise but when is one day? Every time I tried to tell you how I was feeling, you shut me down. You shut me out and then you shut me down."

"So you're sayin' I drove you away?"

You paused for a moment; you could have denied it, you could have said it was all your own doing and that Joel's purposeful ignorance to your suffering wasn't relevant. He wouldn't have believed you. There was no point in denying what he already knew was true.

"Yeah," you shrugged. "You did. And I'm sorry about it, okay? I'm sorry that I left, but I didn't do it because I stopped loving you, or because I wanted to get away from you. I had to get away from everything and there hasn't been a single fucking day since I left that I haven't thought about you, or missed you, or wished that you'd come with me..."

You stopped then, barely able to swallow the lump in your throat or ignore the tears that had formed in your eyes. Joel was feeling a too - maybe just not as visibly - but he so desperately wanted to take his words back.

"I don't know what I'm meant to do now," you continued. "Now that you're here...I don't know how long for-"

"- for the foreseeable future," he said. "I have a kid with me. She's not my kid, but she is my kid and....she's the best thing that happened to me since you. Don't tell her I said that."

You smiled slightly. "The foreseeable future, huh?"

"Yeah. This seems like the best place to be, compared to the rest of fuckin' country," Joel replied. "Especially if you're here."

"Right," you nodded, smile not faltering. "I'm glad you're here. Despite everything."

He raised an eyebrow. "Despite everything?"

"You gotta understand, Joel, I'm over the fucking moon to see you. To know that you're alive, and well, and that..." you paused, trailing off.

One thing you hadn't expected to feel when you saw him again was hesitance. Anger, and resentment, and fucking hesitance. It was something you hadn't realised you were harbouring, but knowing that the man you loved had purposefully ignored the way you felt - even five years ago - hurt. You just hadn't realised how much til now, and seeing him had wrenched all those unhealed wounds right up, tearing them from the back of your brain and making them fresh all over again. Especially when he'd had the audacity to be angry at you - maybe rightfully so - but then not understanding why you might be angry at him.

There was an elephant in the room: what happened now? Did you get back together? Forget about everything that had happened, so that you could be happy again?

No. That ship had sailed. It had sailed, and then it had hit an iceberg and sank, and it had whatever versions of you and Joel that had existed then down with it.

You grabbed your drink, downing the whiskey in one gulp in the same way Joel had just moments earlier. "I'll see you around Joel."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #joe miller imagines #joel miller #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou angst

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brenobikenobi · 1 year

Text

Wrecked

Summary: It wasn’t supposed to happen — you got injured because of your own mouth running off. Now you’re forced to face the music when Joel gets a glimpse of you. Pairing: Joel Miller/Reader (she/her pronouns used) Fandom: The Last of Us (television series focused) Warning(s): Minute depictions of violence (flashback form), mentions of depictions of violence (it’s The Last of Us, are we surprised), slightly OOC Joel Miller (first time writing TLOU, y’all), mention of alcohol, random asshole residents in the QZ, overprotective Joel Miller, hints of a secret relationship, pre-Jackson, pre-Ellie (quarantine zone), depictions of apocalyptic surroundings (quarantine zone, Cordyceps Infection, ration tickets, FEDRA, etc.), depiction of injuries, blood and gore, gendered terminology (usage of she/her pronouns). Please read this piece with your own caution. Word Count: 3,045 A/N: Hello and welcome to my first The Last of Us imagine! It's been a few hours since watching the show and as a player of the game and someone who watched gameplays of it for years, this adaptation is absolutely amazing so far. I am so excited to see more and hopefully write again for the show/game as time goes on.

The hot water on your bloodied and bruised hands was almost too much.

While often it could be considered a brief sight of comfort, it now held a stark moment of sheer pain. Nonetheless, you couldn’t really fight the temperature as the evidence on your hands was too much of a reminder to what had happened — and you would be glad to end this torment of your skin, once the contents of crimson red were washed away down the drain and away into who knows where.

Steam rises in softening fumes as the heated water dances across flesh, softening what has dried there so you could begin wiping it away. What was harder to remove, you would take a ratty old washcloth and clear it off the best you could… but the stain still remained. Your eyes would focus on that damned spot, trying to scrub as hard as you could but nothing could truly fix what was evident as soon as you looked at the broken, dirty mirror above the sink.

All signs pointed directly to the wear and tear on your face. You had gotten jumped.

It wasn’t meant to happen, truly that’s what you could recall (or so tried). A normal day or what could be considered in the quarantine zone, where FEDRA reigned over all since the end of the world twenty years prior at the hands of the Cordyceps outbreak. What felt like a safe haven was mainly the farthest thing from it, especially with some residents who thought they were above others. You, along with your company, kept to yourself as you would get up, work, take what you could as payment through ration tickets, and tuck yourself away into your confined space to repeat the same cycle again and again until you eventually bit the dust.

That was until you opened your mouth and fought back. That’s what did you in.

It was a small group of people, who often crossed paths alongside you and your company, that came looking for trouble. Taking the familiar path towards the apartment in Boston QZ, you would keep your head down with hands in your pockets as you carried on. Only this time, one man seemed to walk out in front of you in a way to get you to stop. That’s what slowed down your pace, causing you to still as you raise an eyebrow and turn around.

That’s when his buddy had come out next. Followed by another of sorts, you quickly realize it was three against one. You were surrounded and likely, this wasn’t going to bode well for you.

“Well, isn’t this a treat?” they spoke, walking forwards two steps and you seem to remember going three steps back. “Where are you off to?”

You didn’t answer. He always told you not to answer them, just try and get out of the situation in the best manner possible. There was no need to get violent over this.

So you stayed silent, opting to turn away. No matter if one of his men were close behind, you had to find your opening. He tells you not to pick a fight, it isn’t worth it if it means you get harmed.

“What? We don’t get the privilege of an answer?” they taunt and you feel it slowly rising in your system, how your blood boils at the sound of them picking upon you. How in the end of the world, there’s no shortage of bullies as people have learned to adapt to the new world around them in any way they can. They come out of the woodwork, almost like moths summoned to fresh light. “Stay awhile, we just want to talk.”

“I fuckin’ doubt that,” you remarked, where you immediately cringed because you know you denied the one rule he warned you about. Don’t give them an answer.

“She speaks!” the ring leader says as his buddy seems to cut you off from the opening, blocking you in between the three men as they step closer. “Where you headin’?”

Stop while you’re ahead. “None of your fuckin’ business.”

Tsk, tsk, tsk goes the man’s tongue against his teeth as one seemed to press his chest against your back. “You know, you’re not being very nice. We’re just trying to hold a nice, friendly conversation…”

One hand of theirs had reached forward, tugging lightly on the collar of your oversized denim jacket that wasn’t yours to begin with. Instinctively, you reach up and slap his hand away as his friends seem to chuckle lightly at how quick you fought back. Almost like you were the little girl on the playground who got her pigtails tugged by the boys and see just how fast you would react in such a manner.

“Oh! And she’s got a little fire in her too! Temper, temper…” the ring leader teases, a wolfish grin on their face before they had stepped forward and leaned down. “Tell you what… I’ll make you a deal that’ll get you out of here scot free.”

“And what exactly are you willing to deal?” you had wondered. You should’ve shut your mouth. You were disobeying him every second you opened it to respond.

“Heard you were working this morning,” the ring leader says, as their grubby hands reach for your denim jacket’s collar again and seem to move to your shoulder as if holding you in place. “Which means you got your ration tickets… Since you and your friend are so buddy-buddy, I think you might not need those. Why don’t we make a deal and you hand them over before a pretty girl like you gets hurt?”

You thought about it: once, twice, thrice times over. Yet you remember that the second you made eye contact with the ring leader, you had smiled… and it had led to you doing the exact opposite of what they wanted. Because you remember hocking a loogie into their eye, earning disgusted yet stunned looks from his two buddies. The ring leader had wiped his face clean, causing them to stare at the DNA evidence on their fingers before you finally cleared your mind of the fog of self-defense in your head.

You were fucked. And you had ran, before they threw you against the wall, stole what they could find on you after laying their hands upon your very person once you delivered a bone-crushing punch to one’s nose and ran off like thieves in broad sunlight. Like they were too damned scared to stay around and face the consequences of beating down an innocent quarantine resident.

Your train of memory becomes derailed as soon as the front door shuts on the other side, sending you into jerking your hands back from hot water. You had almost forgotten your surroundings from the reel in your head, looking around to find if a towel was anywhere near. Grabbing hold of one over the curtain rod, you wipe your hands clean and replace the towel before a voice shouts out.

“Y/N, is that you?” they call out, prompting you to know that it was time to go out there and try to act like nothing happened when it had. “Didn’t think you’d be back by now.”

If only he knew why you were. “Uh… yeah, give me a second. I’m almost done.”

A shuffle of footsteps outside the bathroom signal that he’s turned away, possibly in the small living room that is closest to the entrance of the tiny kitchenette. It was go time now, knowing that there was no turning back from facing what lies ahead. You reach your hand forward, trying to compose your emotions before internalizing them and twist the doorknob. With a hard push (since the door often got stuck), you push it open into the small studio apartment before coming face to back with none other than him.

Joel Miller. Your buddy.

It was no secret to others that you and Joel had surprisingly bonded. Honestly, it had come as a shock to many when they knew who Joel was — a man who kept his emotions under lock and key, then cemented behind 12 foot walls. You may not know every detail about his past, nor what he has seen over the last twenty years, but somehow you had made your way to him and extended your hand as if to remind him one thing.

You aren’t alone. It reads across your face as clear as day. Not anymore.

Which is why it scared you wholeheartedly to face him. He had his back turned, cleaning up something that had been left in the sink with his head bowed and shoulders slouched. Maybe if you shrunk yourself up enough, you could bypass his stare but alas that did nothing. Because as soon as you step back, the floorboard creaks and he turns to face your direction as he holds a washcloth and mug in hand.

What he sees is almost enough to drop the mug entirely.

Minus from the scrapes and bruises evident on the skin of your neck and face, it was mainly the bruising eye, swollen cheek, bloody nose and the split across both bottom and top lip to show you had fucked up entirely. The denim jacket you had stolen from him to go work this morning had blood staining the collar, which luckily didn’t belong to you (but from the ring leader himself) but it still stained the worn fabric below your jaw. You looked absolutely wrecked and Joel, full heartedly, looked terrified.

He had never looked terrified when it came to you before.

“What in the hell?” Joel drawls, lowering the mug with more force than intended as it echoes once it’s placed down. He crosses across the floor, holding the washcloth as he nears you and you almost lurch back again before realizing this was someone safe, someone warm, someone you knew.

“I can explain—” You begin.

“I sure as hell hope you fucking can!” Joel hisses, his tone causing you to almost drop the tough act all together before he reaches his fingers outwards and lifts your chin while being mindful of the wounds close by. “God, what the fuck—”

“I’m fine—” You try to put off.

“Don’t you lie to me, Y/N. You are far from fine,” he insists, causing your stomach to twist as he looks you over before one question falls from his lips. “Who did this to you?”

Silence fills the room around you, despite the ambience from outside as FEDRA’s vehicles went moving by as fast as they possibly could to keep the peace or what they thought it was outside. You meet his eyes, seeing he was awaiting his answer before you drop your head and you feel sheepish as you try and steady your voice.

“You know who.” You remind him. He’s dealt with these so-called men of the quarantine zone. He knew what they often did to you, from taunting to teasing and now physical harm.

It didn’t take him long to connect the dots, causing him to scoff as he knew what you meant. Knowing his anger didn’t help in this moment of vulnerability, he decided it was best to work on what needed to be fixed now: you. Urging you with one hand, you slowly sit down at the table while he sits across from you in the opposite chair and raises your chin again but not too much. In the natural light, all he could think when he looked at you was that you looked like hell and you looked nothing like that the morning before you left.

Taking the washcloth, he bunches it up as precipitation leaks from the fabric. “You wanna tell me what happened to not answering?”

You clench your jaw, a wrong move as you hiss slightly because of the blossoming bruise along the curve of it. Before you could recover from that, he was gently cleansing your face of the dried blood that had caked over your cupid’s bow and lips from the wounds of your nose and lips. No matter how careful he was trying to be, you knew he had to be using slight pressure to get every ounce of it off of your very person.

“They cornered me on the way back,” you reveal, wincing back slightly before his hand stops you from moving too far and keeps you in place so he can continue. “I was minding my own business, but he touched me and kept provoking me—”

“One touched you?” Joel repeats. He stops his work as he eyes you, hearing you loud and clear.

“Not in that manner, no!” You insist, hoping it would calm him before you continue on. “The leader, he just made a big show of picking on me and then he— oh fuck.”

“What?” Joel wonders, seeing you frantically patting the front and sides of the denim jacket before his eyebrows raise and he lowers the washcloth away from your face. “Stop it, slow down — what’s wrong? What else did he do? Talk to me.”

“That stupid son of a bitch!” you exclaim, prompting Joel to grow further confused before you look him in the eye and clarify. “That fucking bastard and his friends took my tickets.”

Joel’s gaze darkens. “Your ration tickets?”

“No, my game day tickets— yes, Joel, my fucking ration tickets!” you seeth, raising onto your feet as you sense Joel standing beside you in order to slow you down. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to ask for more work again. Fuck, this isn’t good. I’ll have to try and get—”

“Y/N, hey— Y/N, listen. Listen to me, dammit, before you panic yourself to death,” Joel demands, causing him to use force as he turns you to him and you stare up at his aged gaze, silent before he speaks. “I understand you’re upset but think about this: ration tickets are one thing, but you’re lucky you got out of there with your life. Especially with how banged up you got from this whole ordeal… fuck, I gotta find you some ice.”

He had twisted your chin to the side, where he could see the swelling of your jaw underneath the blossoming bloom of blue, purple and deepening red. In a moment of silence as he carefully checks you over one last time, you can’t help but speak.

“You should see the guy who led it,” you reveal.

Joel stills, raising an eyebrow as he twists your chin back to look at him and he looks down at you. He keeps you in his hold, sending a small shiver down your spine but your composure stays still. The way he looks at you, as stoic as the man can be after years of personal demons knocking down his door, he seems to look at you with this… carefulness. Almost as if you wonder who else he has looked at like this and if he reserved it for those he cared about most.

Were you someone he cared about most? Or was that all in your head?

Maybe it was because of the concussion you thought you had, there was no telling the difference anymore.

“What’d you mean?” Joel asks as his thumb runs along the uninjured part of your lips. Damn him, the fog in your brain was destined to return now.

“Before they had a chance to grab anything, I did what you taught me,” you admit as he raises an eyebrow, as if asking for further clarification. “This isn’t my blood on your jacket. It’s the guy who led the group’s blood. I broke his nose.”

Silence again. For a moment, it was almost like silence was the only thing accepting of you both as you stare at each other before a small chuckle, drier than anything, is let out from Joel. And in its brief appearance, it still sends a cooling effect over you as if you were searching for it the entire time.

“You broke that guy’s nose,” Joel repeats, seeing that you were wholeheartedly serious before he grins crookedly and then squeezes your chin lightly with the pad of his thumb and his index finger. “That’s my girl… Guess you got some semblance of fight in you.”

“Maybe there’s some part of me that you don’t know that well either,” you confess, looking up at him before you decide to break the serious act you put on. “On the other hand, I think my knuckles are bruised too—”

You see him shake his head, leaning forward as his lips — soft yet slightly chapped — press against your forehead. In the silent space shared between two souls that had been ripped from normalcy and thrown into apocalyptic situations from different parts of the nation, they had found solace in this little moment between both. This was both your moment to share and nothing, not even some asshole and his pack of idiots could try and take that solitude away from you.

“You’re something else,” Joel murmurs, moving closer as his chest is pressed up against yours. There it was again, that warm feeling in the middle of your chest — it never goes away. “You know that, right?”

You tilt your head, as if to mull over his words. “Hmm, I think I’ve heard that before. Was it you who said that ages ago—”

Joel doesn’t let you have it. Instead he leans forward, capturing your lips in a delicate kiss where you can focus every sense on him and him alone. Beyond the musky mix of tobacco, mint and some cheap rye whiskey from a run, you twist your hands into the ends of his salt-and-pepper threads before his lips shift and you hiss before pulling back lightly.

“Shit, sorry,” he murmurs as his thumb strokes your cheek. You shake your head, as if to assure him that the pain was temporary and the bliss of the kiss was forever, in your mind. You curl your hands into the denim shirt he wears, carefully pulling him closer than it was physically possible to with your noses bumping together delicately.

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, voice a hush despite it just being you both — it had always been both of you, in this short period of time. “It’ll pass.”

And with that being said, Joel presses his lips against yours for another whiskey-hinted kiss — pain present or not.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction

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last-uncharted-land · 3 months

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this is a pretty experimental au in which i make use of the tlou universe, but shape the story around the uncharted characters (particularly, young Nate and Sully from the 3rd game's flashback, and the occasional familiar face from their storyline).

the main characters from both universes will not be interacting with each other in a meaningful way. again, this exists as a way to try my hand at somewhat fitting the uncharted characters into the tlou universe without completely discarding the uc storyline.

art by my sister, @cidade-tempero (i only added in the title in the proper font ^^)

story overview under the cut

aka Nate and Sully's journey to find Sam (who disappeared over a year ago) ;

basically, sam and nate were from the Boston QZ (because in UC4, the orphanage is there) and lived in one of the FEDRA boarding schools;

At some point, Sam decides he's going to leave FEDRA school because he doesn't want to kill fireflies (but he doesn't want to be a firefly either);

he ends up becoming a smuggler (Joel and Tess style) and doing his best to save up food cards and resources to eventually get Nathan out of there too ;

at some point Sam gets a pretty good job that would make enough to go ahead with their plan if he managed to complete. the problem is that, unlike everything he's ever done, he would have to leave the QZ and go relatively far — like out the walls far;

Nate doesn't like the idea but there's nothing he can do about it, really;

Sam says that if he doesn't come back in a year it's because he's fucked up and there's no point looking for him. he leaves instructions on what to do if this happens;

almost a year passes and he hasn't come back, so Nate concludes he ha no choice but to go after him. just like that, the attempts to escape from Boston begin;

these attempts are always thwarted by the same guy: that's right, you guessed it. Sully!

in this au, he was basically working with FEDRA. that's because he was in the navy before and so on, and because he was the best paid at ZQ. For him, payment was payment, no matter where it came from;

he was the only guard who always caught Nate trying to climb the QZ walls before he could get out. but he never arrested or reported him, to the point that they were more or less friends after a few months of that;

eventually, Sully is assigned to take part in the execution work in the quarantine zone and it is at this point that he decides that he is done working with FEDRA. he couldn't stay there either because refusing to do a job like that was pretty much asking to be murdered;

he waits for the right moment and the next time Nate tries to escape, he helps and they both get away;

they initially travel together out of convenience (Sully doesn't really have anywhere to go, and Nate doesn't have enough experience to get by on his own in the whole fucked up world). with time, their relationship starts to develop as it would in their own storyline (don't worry, we're getting that found family!)

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so thoughts? while i already started actually writing the fic, if you wanna give any suggestions or requests, the inbox is open!

#uncharted #uncharted au #uncharted fanfiction #tlou #the last of us #crossover #nathan drake #victor sullivan #last-uncharted-land-au #chrono

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xxsp3llb0undxx · 1 year

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Me and the Devil

Joel Miller x Firefly!Reader ,, Slight Ellie Willams x firefly!Reader [4.3k]

Summary: What if there was still a firefly alive waiting for Ellie at the capitol building?

Reader's appearance is strictly random, I made it all up. If you do not like it, I apologise but it made it easier to fill in the blank parts of the story.

WARNINGS: TLOU AU ,, BLOOD ,, GUNS ,, JOEL BEING GRUMPY ,, INFECTED ,, TESS DYING ,, AGE GAP (READER IS 22) ,, ANGST ,, EVENTUAL FLUFF ,,

MASTERLIST TLOU

Run in with Clickers - The Museum

Joel, Tess and Ellie had snuck out of Boston QZ, their lives carried on their backs in old, torn backpacks. It was dark outside, no stars in the sky to light their way. The trio walked through no mans land as FEDRA guards swept the area for infected or strays that had gotten out of the walls of their quarantine zone. Spotlights shone down on the wasteland below, shadows of the guards on the ground could be seen nearing the small group. Joel aimed his gun in the direction of one of the guards, prepared to take him down if need be. The guard slowly retreated after not finding what he hoped would be there. Tess lead the way for Joel and Ellie, ushering them to squeeze through the gap in the fence they had made when they had first become smugglers.

The trip was going well until it wasn't, their usual route through the hotel had collapsed, the only way past was through a swarm of infected laying on the ground below. The only other choice they had was to go the shorter, more dangerous, way; through the museum - that was apparently crawling with every strain of infected you could think off. When they had made it, cordyceps spores danced around the floor of the street and the exterior of the building, they merged together like vines - a family tree. Joel inspected the spores, hitting the butt of his gun against it; a cloud of ash evaporated into the air. "It's bone dry, could mean they're all finally dead in there." The group walked into the building, their flashlights lit up the rundown museum. Ellie was the first to say anything, or more like shout curses. "Oh shit." Her voice wavered a little as she stared down at the body of a man in the corner, his skin torn and blood still wet - the body was fresh, couldn't have been more than a couple hours old.

"Okay, from this point on, we are silent. Not quiet, silent." Joel looked over at Ellie as he spoke, trying to make it clear to her that this was now a life or death situation. The trio carefully made it up the stairs, bodies thrown across the wooden steps - their corpses starting to decay. Ellie had stepped on one of the bodies, a crunch from the stale bones echoed through the museum, Joel and Tess whipped their heads around and stared at the young girl - silently scolding her. Once they had made it to the floor they had needed to be on, Joel was the first to enter the room on the top floor; Ellie and Tess arriving shortly after, both jumping out the way as the ceiling collapses. Tess huffs as she gets up, reaching her hand out to Ellie to help her up. The sound of clicking and shrieks rip through the air, echoing throughout the room. 'They can't see but, they can hear' Joel had mouthed to the young girl behind him, his gun held tightly in his grip.

Two clickers emerged from the dark, their heads twisting as they stumbled around. Their clicks and screams startled Ellie, she was squished between Joel and Tess as they hid behind a display case. Ellie held her breath as of the clickers made their way past, thinking she was in the clear - she released a shaky breath, though the remaining oxygen had caught in her throat as the clicker turned around, it's split mushroom head now in clear view. It lunged in the direction of Ellie and Tess, the young girl screamed as Tess dragged her away to another area of the upper floor; the clicker shortly following behind. "Hey, hey fucker. I'm over here." Joel screamed at the creature, it's whole body twisted as it ran straight for Joel; arms outstretched as it tried to grip onto him. He lead it to another section of the museum, he was goading it on - pissing the creature off. Gun shots fired one after the other as Joel shot at the clicker, blood curdling screams erupted from it's throat as it fell to the floor with a thump.

Ellie had made her way to Joel, telling him she had lot sight of Tess. He looked around trying to figure out where she was, but before he could do anything, both him and Ellie were knocked to the ground as another clicker emerged from a dark corner. It's rotting, yellow teeth sunk into Ellie's arm, coaxing a cry from the girl. Joel flung the creature away from the pair, smashing the butt of his gun into it head, over and over again leaving a pool of dark red liquid to spread across the floor. "We should get going, the Capitol isn't that far." Tess had walked up behind the pair, her voice strained. The group had made it to the roof, a wooden plank stretched across one building to another. Tess had twisted her ankle at some point throughout the whole dance party with the infected, she was sat on the windowsill as she bandaged her ankle to try and support it the best she could. "You fucking kidding me? I mean, if it was going to happen to one of us." Tess and Joel snapped their heads up to look at Ellie, her sleeve was rolled up revealing a new bite mark - small pools of blood gliding down her pale arm.

Joel threw a bandage at the girl, telling her to put it around her arm. He told her to give him and Tess a moment, to go wait over on the other rooftop; to which she nodded her head and walked across the plank. Ellie lent up against the crumbling stone wall as she looked over the scenery; leafy vines trailed up the buildings, mother nature claiming what was rightfully hers. "Is it everything you hoped for?" She looked beside her to see Joel observing the abandoned buildings in front of him. "Jury's still out." Ellie paused before she spoke again "But, man, you can't deny that view." Joel could finally agree with her for once, the view in front of him was morbidly beautiful - almost melancholic.

The Capitol Building - The death of Tess

After a couple days of walking through the cities and avoiding infected, they had finally made it to the Capitol Building. Trucks were out front, doors to the vehicles left open. Joel told Ellie and Tess to wait where they had been hiding, he walked towards one of the trucks and saw a glint of silver reflect in the light - a firefly necklace with the name Y/n engraved on the back. Blood was spattered across the inside of the truck, coating the dashboard and door. He followed the rail up to the big wooden doors of the building, Ellie and Tess had moved from their hiding spot and followed the older male up the steps. The door creaked open, Joel was the first to enter the building; his gun aimed in front in case of any surprise attacks, but all he was met with was a bunch of dead fireflies strewn across the floor. Cries could be heard behind one of the walls, Joel went to go inspect it only for Tess to pull him back. "You don't know what or who that is, our mission is to deliver the girl. We're not going on any side quests, Joel." Her voice was bitter, she tightened her grip on Joel's arm as he walked closer to the sound. He turned back towards Tess and shook her off of him before proceeding towards where he had heard the crying.

A young girl was curled into herself in the corner, a gun held tightly against her chest. Joel crouched down to her height, his movement slow and careful, he couldn't risk scaring the only firefly left. "Hey.. put down the gun, we're here to help." Joel didn't mean it, he just wanted to give her Ellie and fuck off to wherever he had planned to go. The young girl looked up at him; she had big blue eyes, her skin was pale - almost paper white and short, jet black hair. She looked young, too young to be smuggling a person. Joel looked over her face, he notice light freckles littering her skin and dark bags under her eyes - she looked like a ghost. "Joel, we need to hurry up. I'm not waiting here all day for infected to show up, lets just hand over the girl." Tess's voice startled the young girl in front of Joel, he reached out towards her; to which she back up away from him further, if that was even possible.

Tess stormed over with Ellie in tow, lightly pushing her towards the firefly. Ellie stumbled and fell beside the girl, she noticed a small tattoo on her wrist, the initials 'R.A' in dark ink spread across the side of her wrist. Ellie knew those initials, she knew who they were for - Riley. Tears welled in the young girls eyes, her vision slowly becoming blurry. "How- how do you know Riley?" Her voice cracked, a lump started to form in her throat. Y/n looked up at Ellie, taking in the dark brown of her eyes, the way her hair would curl up at the ends, the faint scar through her eyebrow. Realisation finally set it, she knew who this girl was. "You're Ellie.. Riley talked about you a lot, I'm so sorry for what happened." Y/n couldn't look at her as she spoke, she felt guilty for asking Marlene to make Riley apart of the fireflies, taking her away from her best friend. Tess and Joel observed the two girls, they felt for them - it was a shit world for kids to be living in, whether that be they're 12 or 22 it didn't make a difference, they barely have a life.

The sound of snarling emitted from the other side of the room, one of the fireflies had risen as an infected. Y/n jumped up fast, stepping in front of Joel as he pulled out his gun. "Don't. You kill him here and the rest will just follow, I know you're not dumb, Joel." The older male looked down at the girl in front of him, he huffed as she turned around and pulled the infected away from any vine near; his jaw snapped at her, trying to sink it's teeth into her skin. A sound of a gun shot rang through the air, the infected went limp as the bullet had penetrated it's skull. Tess put her gun back in her holster as small tendrils sprouted from the floor, making their way under the fingernails of the now dead member of Y/n's group. Joel stared at Tess in bewilderment, his head cocked slightly to the side trying to catch her eyes. She had turned to Ellie questioning her where Marlene told her she was supposed to go, all she got out of the young girl was - West. Joel pushed his way into their conversation, telling Tess that they should just go home; the older woman didn't like that, she blew up at Joel, shouting at him that the QZ was not her home. "I mean.. Our luck had to run out sooner or later." Tess had revealed she got bit by one of the clickers back at the museum, Joel just stood there - frozen. He couldn't deal with losing another person, not again.

"There's gonna be a swarm of infected heading our way any minute now, you have to go." Joel shook his head, he couldn't - no, he wouldn't leave her behind. He grabbed onto her wrist and begun pulling her towards the back exit of the building. Tess clawed at his hand, freeing her wrist from his grasp. "Is there anything you can do? Just- just anything to save her?" His question was aimed at Y/n, she walked over to the front of the building with all the supplies; there were 2 vials of a weird green liquid. Y/n picked up a needle and walked over to Tess, she inspected the wound and asked her how long ago she had been bitten. She order Joel to pick up as much supplies he could carry and get ready to run when the swarm were almost near, Y/n had injected one of the vials mysterious contents into Tess's wound. A yelp left her throat as the needle was removed, she was bandaged up and started walking to the back exit to leave. The front doors slammed open and a swarm of infected spread throughout the building, Joel had grabbed Ellie's arm and ran to the back; kicking the door open and running as far away from the Capitol as they could. Tess followed shortly behind as Y/n was still in the middle, surrounded by infected. Tess had turned back to see her stood there, as still as a wounded animal. Without thinking she ran back towards the girl and grabbed her arm, Y/n flung Tess to the ground and protected her as best as she could from the infected.

Her pale skin now being covered in bite marks as she used her own body to shield Tess from these cordyceps ridden freaks, though it didn't stop her from one sneaky stalker to make it's way over and bite a chunk out of Tess's leg. A blood curdling scream erupted from her throat, tears dripping down the sides of her face as she gathered up all her strength to push Y/n off of her and yell for her to run. The young girl had luckily found a stray grenade on the floor away from the swarm, she pulled the pin and threw it, uttering her last sorry and goodbye to the woman before running as fast as she could out of the building. It took awhile for her to catch up to Ellie and Joel, she was only able to find them from the bickering between the pair. Ellie was the first to notice Y/n, she looked around to see if Tess was trailing behind but she was nowhere to be seen. When Joel didn't hear Ellie making sly comments towards him, he turned around and saw her with Y/n - the black haired girl was covered in blood, bite marks littered her pale skin. He pulled Ellie back and shoved her behind him, keeping distance from the girl.

"Where is Tess? What did you do to her?" His voice was stern and cold, like he was ready to rip her apart when the chance came around. All Y/n could do was shake her head, her voice refusing to speak up and let itself be known. Joel turned around and walked off ahead of them, he wasn't in the state of mind to handle this right now. Ellie had given Y/n her jacket to hopefully protected her bleeding body from the now cold breeze sweeping through the area, she had asked her why she didn't stay with Tess if she was going to end up turning soon anyway; she didn't mean it in some fucked up way, more like she was curious why someone would fight to stay alive when they were going to end up like the rest of the world. "I'm immune, just like you. My mom was bitten when she was pregnant with me, they think that's what protected me from becoming infected." Ellie was happy to have someone like her around but what if it were Riley instead? What if the only person she has ever loved was the one stood beside her as they walked to the ends of the earth?

Bill and Frank's home - Joel falls in love

The trio had been walking for a few days, stopping to rest every now and then, due to Joel's knees giving out on him a couple times. The older male would grumble every time Y/n would hook her arm around his back to support his weight, he hated having to depend on other's. His arm was slung over her shoulder as they walked up a small hill, Ellie was up front - happily rambling on about Bill and Frank. Joel ended up tripping on a small piece of concrete that had uplifted from the ground, Y/n tried her best to steady him but in the end, the pair fell to the ground. Joel was sprawled out on the concrete as Y/n sat there looking at him, her hands now grazed - pieces of gravel stuck into her skin. She made her way over to him, helping him sit upright as she checked over his figure for any damage from the fall. Joel sat their quietly, observing the young girl in front of him - his heart hammered in his chest as she cup his face in her hands, her fingers smoothing over his skin as she moved closer to check for any grazes or cuts. Once she had moved away from him, he looked at her like she had committed a crime - well in Joel's case, she did. She made him feel thing's he hasn't felt in a long time.

They had finally made it to Massachusetts, the long road down to their gated community was surrounded by woodland. Joel wanted to go the longer way to save Ellie from seeing the mass of bones in a ditch from the start of the outbreak, Ellie had persisted that they should go the shorter way and make their lives easier. When they had come across the decayed corpses Ellie stood there, staring at them - all their personal effects thrown beside them. She turned to look at Joel, asking him what had happened - he hesitated before speaking. "When the outbreak first happened, FEDRA went around collecting people to bring them to QZ's but what they didn't tell them was - if the QZ didn't have the space that would happen to them." He pointed down to the pile of bones scattered around. "Were they infected?" Joel shook his head "Not all of them." He hated remembering the day the outbreak happened, the cordyceps claiming the world as it's own breeding ground. Y/n reached for Joel's hand, giving it a light squeeze before ushering the pair to just continue walking to the gated community about 1/2 a mile from them.

When they had finally reached Bill and Frank's home, everything beyond the gate was dead - the flowers looked like they hadn't been watered in months, the grass overgrown and weeds wrapped themselves around the columns of the houses like vines. Joel punched in the pin to the gate, the buzzer sounded telling the trio they could now enter the community. Once inside, they got a better look at the street around them; it was derelict, unlived in. Joel had led Ellie and Y/n over to the building presumed to be Bill and Frank's house, the door was unlocked. The wooden slab creaked open as Y/n pushed it, the stench of rotting food filled the air - flies buzzing around the plates of what used to hold chicken. "You stay here. Ya hear anything, see anything.. Yell." Joel manoeuvred through the house calling out Bill and Frank's name's, though he was only met with silence on their behalf. Ellie had stumbled upon a letter and key, Y/n looked it over - it was a small white envelope with the words 'To whomever.. but probably Joel.' The sound of Joel calling their names caught both Ellie's and Y/n's attention, their heads turning in the direction of Joel as he walked towards them from down the hall.

He noticed the envelope in Ellie's hand, taking note of the key sat on the table beside her. "It's from bill." She waved the letter in the air. "To whomever.. but probably Joel, We figured we fell under 'whomever'. It came with this." She pushed the key over to Joel, to which he picked it up and examined it. The words Y/n had dreaded, fell from Joel's lips. "So they're dead?" Ellie nodded her head, silence took over the once comforting mood - now turning it sour. "You, you wanna?" Ellie had her arm stretched out, the letter between her forefinger and middle finger as she tried to give it to Joel. He shook his head, giving her permission to read it instead.

“August 29, 2023.

If you find this… please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehehehe." Ellie paused looking over at Joel before continuing once again. "Take anything you need. The bunker code is the same as the gate code but in reverse. Anyway… I never liked you, but still, it’s like we’re friends… almost. And I respect you. So, I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world, and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do. And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep…” Ellie refused to continue reading, Y/n patted the young girls shoulder before taking the letter from her hands and continuing from where she left off. "Use them to keep Tess safe, until such time as you and she decide you've had enough. At that point, I recommend pairing 40 Vicodin's with a nice Brunello. - Bill."

Y/n looked at Joel, his fists were clenched at his side. She walked over to him to try and console him, instead he pushed her away from him muttering a stern 'don't.' before walking out the house and to the garage Bill had kept his Chevy. Y/n was left stood in the dining room as Ellie had chased after Joel, tear stung her eyes. She tried her best to save Tess, she really did but all Joel would see her as the reason his lover was now dead. Y/n left the pair to their own devices as she walked around Bill's house, fingers trailing across any surface they could touch, dust collecting on her finger tips. She had made her way upstairs, looking over every picture framed on the walls and paintings left untouched. Y/n was sat in one of the rooms, it still resembled what it would've looked like before the apocalypse - light coloured floral bedding, fuzzy beige carpet, an ottoman placed by the window. It felt like home, or whatever home was.

Y/n had stayed upstairs for majority of the time Joel and Ellie were doing whatever they were doing, she had stumbled upon a book - Dracula by Bram Stoker, she had read it before, it was one of things that helped her through the shitty days of being a firefly. Footsteps on the stairs made the wood creek, Y/n was too absorbed into the book to notice Joel was stood in the doorway of the room she had found refuge in. His body was lent up against the painted wood, arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the girl; her attention was solely on the book in her hands. He coughed in an attempt to gain her attention, she turned her head slowly, eye's still glued onto the page she was reading until she could no longer read the word as she was now facing Joel. He cleared his throat once again before finding the words he wanted to say. "Look.. I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier, that wasn't fair on you. Tess meant a lot to me and losing her.. losing her is one of the hardest thing's I've had to do." Y/n nodded at Joel, pushing him to continue talking. "But that doesn't mean I have the right to treat you like you're nothing.. because that's not true. In the short time I've known you, you have made me feel things I haven't felt in a long time. I feel young again, like my heart is finally beating again and that's all down to you."

He had cupped her face in his hands, looking into her blue eyes before talking once gain. "I don't know if this is love or just the need for someone to care about me but- but I don't want to ever forget this feeling, I don't ever want to lose you.." He had closed the gap between them, his lips pressed against Y/n's so softly. Joel's lips were chapped but it felt like heaven. When he had pulled away, he looked at Y/n with a small smile stretched across his face. His brown eyes sparkled in a way Y/n had never seen, he seemed happier - free.

A/N: Random Joel fic, it's probably so bad and poorly written lmao. Enjoy I guess

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