Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff, reader throws something to cope(she’s not violent she’s coping with abandonment trauma), slight dissociation, but don’t worry they kiss teehee
A/N: this is a follow up to this Drabble that i wrote about a week ago. A singular person asked for a part 2 which i wasn’t expecting, but it just goes to show how one reader can really motivate you so much! it got me to sit down and seriously write after like 6 months of not writing! Thank you for being kind and engaging readers
Two.
Two whole weeks without any contact from him. The drawer you had set aside for him in your apartment didn’t smell like his cologne anymore and you tried not to open it as much as possible. The first few days had been rough, tense and empty, wihout any sign of relief. A panicked voicemail or even an unanswered call would have helped. Was he alive? Dead? Surviving? Being Tortured? Drinking mojitos on a beach? You gritted your teeth when you had read the note in his stupid handwriting.
I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a week. I love you. I’m sorry. -Frankie
Eventually you numbed out enough to get through the day without your skin hurting so much. You were slowly becoming human again, which is why you found yourself cooking eggs at the moment.
You focus on the sizzling, watching the minuscule bubbles puff out as the egg cooks. Then your brows furrow in confusion. Was that knocking? You shake your head, blinking rapidly, as if shedding the daze you were in, now registering the far away sound. The breathe in your lungs starts circulating faster as you leave the tiny kitchen and move to the front door, hands fumbling with the locks, swinging the door open.
And he stands there, his glassy bloodshot eyes searching your face. You stiffen.
You feel your fists clenching and your teeth shut tight as you slowly back away from him, anger welling up into tears, your blood running cold. Without a word you spin around, the smell of burning egg wafting out of the kitchen.
“Baby, I’m sorry-“ His boots are heavy behind you.
Jerking the knob of the stove, you wince, grabbing the small pan with the half-burnt egg and throwing the whole thing into the sink, clanging loudly against the other unwashed dishes. The sound only fuels you.
“AGH!” You scream, hurling the nearby cookbook across the room at your table, avoiding him and avoiding the wall, not wanting to hurt him or to disrupt the neighbors. The tears are hot as they fall down your cheeks, and you mirror them, sinking to the floor against the cabinets, bringing your knees to your chest.
“I’m sorry, chiquita.” His whisper creeps in like a fog, like the encompassing haze you were in when he was gone. Your eyes are screwed shut and you feel him kneeling beside you, his arms bringing you into him. You whine in anger, not wanting to give in, but not having the strength to pull away.
His palms rub circles on your back. Your muscles are still tense, trembling with anger or fear or relief or maybe all of it. Then you sniffle, his cologne filling your lungs, and the last of your strength dissipates as you cling to him.
“You’re okay, baby. I gotcha. I gotcha,” he cooes, rocking you slightly as you sob into his chest, hiccuping.
The two of you stay like that, molded together, until your breathing becomes steady. You sigh, finding yourself in that same haze as before, staring out at nothing.
“I thought you were gone.”
You words are stagnant in the air, as if they weren’t meant to be touched.
“It ran longer than expected. I meant to call but all we had were radio signals-“
“Why the fuck did you leave?” You voice is strained, and small, tight in your throat. Your eyes meet his and it sucks the air out of your lungs.
“I know I promised…but the money was good-“
“The money was good,” you say, repeating the phrase through lopsided smile, practically chuckling. “Fuck you, Morales.” You lean away from him, wriggling from his grasp, standing up on trembling legs.
“No, baby. Not like that.”
You snap to him as he stands up behind you.
“It’s not like that? Because I just asked you why the fuck you left me for two weeks with nothing to go on, thinking you were dead in some goddamn ditch, and you said ‘the money was good’. ‘The money was good’ and I was just rotting away here alone cuz’ I thought you were gone…” What started out sharp and jagged had crumbled into its honest core, your words saturated with the fear of losing him. “Baby, I thought you were gone.”
He cautiously steps until he’s right in front of you, feeling every breath you exhale. With no tears left, the strongest emotion pushes at your chest, tugging you forward to him. He doesn’t touch you until you wrap your arms up around his neck first, clinging to him. Those familiar strong arms quickly wrap around your waist, warm through the fabric of your tshirt. Safe.
“I just wanted to be good for you,” his voice is hoarse and strained, and you feel the slight rumble of his shakey breathe.
“I know, I know.” You hum your acknowledgment, fingers softly playing with the curls beneath his cap.
You press little kisses into his neck, holding him close, feeling his arms tighten around you. You move up the side of his throat and over his jawline. His muscles relax underneath your touch, little sighs passing between his parted lips. Your kisses move slowly across his cheek until you lean back to look at him, your hands cupping his face.
His eyes are numb and dark, glazed over in a haze of his own. What did this poor boy see? You kiss him slowly, afraid that the strongest man you know may shatter in your hands. When he pulls away, he searches your face for an answer, burning with hope. You nod.
“C’mon baby, let’s go to bed, yeah?” You hold his hand and lead him to the bedroom, his boots trudging at your heels.
Neither of you go to the drawers to grab pajamas or some funny looking tshirt to sleep in. Instead, he sits down on the mattress, unraveling his laces while you crawl into bed. He rolls under the covers with you, still in his tshirt and jeans, too tired to change.
You run your fingers through his hair as he pulls you close, nuzzling his cheek against the warmth of your chest.
“It’s enough to buy a house.”
His voice is gruff with exhaustion, and it pierces your heart. “That’s the only reason- I never wanted this to- You just mean so much to me-“
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
And although, the traces of betrayal and anger are still burning through your bloodstream, your heart beats with something much stronger, and it pulls you back to him.
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Warnings: Canon-typical violence, SMUT like there is no tomorrow(not in this chapter yet), but not before the most dense sexual tension ever bc they're dum, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst. 18+MDNI
I Keep A Close Watch On This Heart Of Mine
I Keep My Eyes Wide Open All The Time.
I Keep The Ends Out For The Tie That Binds
Because You're Mine,
I Walk The Line
You can’t feel your breath or the pain of your feet hitting hard on the cement as you ran, only the heat in your lungs, like there isn’t enough air to keep you going. They’ll get you, you know it, but you’ll put up a fight like always. If it’s the last thing you do.
“We’re going to try to extract the mutated fungal tendrils and then duplicate it-“
“Aren’t they located in the brain?” A beat of silence. “Marlene-“
“He’s a professional, a doctor. He has a bachelor's degree in-“
“A BACHELORS! Are you fucking serious?” You start pacing.
“Calm down.” Marlene places her hand on her hip, her stern stare a threat to your anger.
“I don’t…I don’t want to. What if we try the blood, or the saliva, or,” you drift off, dazed as you see her straighten her back.
“You won’t feel a thing.” With those words your muscles begin to tighten.
“Please,” you say, barely above a whisper. “Let me go.”
“I can't do that.”
There's a high pitched ringing in your ears as you finally push through the doors, a brief wash of relief as your feet meet the crunching leaves. Almost safe...
Then a heavy tin can hits lands somewhere in front of you and stops you in your tracks as you assess. Fuck. Then, in an explosion of heat and gas, you are thrown in the opposite direction. Besides the ringing in your ears and the taste of blood in your mouth, your senses only pick up the metal clanging of guns against the heavy exit doors, making you whip your head back, coughing as you lift yourself up and begin to stumble forward
It’s smoking now.
“Run!” You turn your head to the deep sound of a man’s voice, off to your far left, where he stands beside a girl, aiming his rifle in your direction. You both freeze for a moment as you realize he’s not telling you to run, he’s telling her. You shake your head, not knowing if he can see the fear, not knowing if he would even care. Bullets start flying past you and his attention turns to the group by the doors who are already firing at him and the girl.
This will be your only chance to run, so you do, pushing past the haze of the smoke.
You feel so heavy. Are you running through water? Why can't you move fast enough? You feel your lungs become slow as you are surrounded by the haze of the gas. You fall to your knees hard, scraping your hands as you try to claw your way farther.
“Joel,” screams a voice much closer. Gunshots. The smell of leaves and earth. Small hands on your skin.
Dark.
-/-/-/-/-/-/
“No, I already said so.”
“We can’t just leave her here.”
You blink slowly, the heaviness dissipating from your bones.
“We have no idea why they were after her, and we ain’t gonna wait around to find out.”
You’re laying beside a tree, the warmth of the ground against your skin. Quick breaths pass between your lips as you recognize one voice as the man’s from earlier, who tried to shoot you. Still unable to get up, you roll on your stomach slowly, dragging your hands up limply to begin crawling again.
“Hey!” He yells curtly, taking two short strides to you, gripping your shoulder and flipping you over on your back, wrapping his hand around your throat. Your hands scratch at his chest, silent cries escaping you. “Why were they trying to getcha? And who were they?”
A quick shove from the young girl had him grunting in anger.
“You’re scaring her!” She yells at him. “She's drugged up, give her a second.”
She clearly wasn't afraid of you, but she didn't trust you either.
Your breathing became more even and your blood didn’t feel so cold anymore. You slowly lean up against the tree, still sitting down. The girl hands you a small flask, to which you shake your head.
“What do y'all want with me?” Your question must sound too assertive for his taste because his face twists in anger.
“What in the hell did they want with you?” You scoff in response.
“Does it matter, they’re not gonna- where are they? The Fireflies-” You suddenly tense as you remember that they were behind you, but as you look around you only see bodies littering the floor and the earth damp with small pools of blood. You turned back to find a knife put up against your throat.
“It matters cuz I asked.” You both hold eye contact, neither one backing down, until you finally grow weary.
“Fine,” you huff. “Wait why are y'all here?”
“Thats none of your fuckin’ business, I asked you a-”
“I’m immune,” the girl said abruptly, excited to be so close to the catalyst. “They were gonna make a cure. We’re looking for the Fireflies base camp thing.”
“Ellie,” he grumbles, sternly. A small smile forms on your lips.
“I knew there had to be more of us.” Her face drops in astonishment. You give your name, reaching out your hand “Nice to make your acquaintance, Ellie.” He only glares at you again.
“Wait. Fuck, so we- did we just kill the people who were making the cure?” Ellie asks, her breathing slow, staring at the leaves. The man slowly takes the knife away, looking between you and her.
“They told you to come here to make a cure?” you ask. She nods. “Those sons a bitches. Asking a little girl to do that. Can’t fucking believe them.”
“Ellie, they started shooting at us first. We defended ourselves. And you,” he points at you with the knife. “What were they gonna ask her to do?” He asks. You sigh, bringing your knees up to your chest.
“Their idea of ‘finding a cure’ is putting you under the knife for brain surgery, from some guy who has a bachelor's degree.” He stares at you, his blood running cold.
“Are you certain?”
You look at him incredulously, hoping he feels as stupid as he sounds. “Am I certain that I was about to get killed in there? You saw them, they fucking started chasing me when I made a run for it all because I said no. Yes, I’m fucking certain. Y’all both dodged a bullet.” You throw your hands up, frustrated, standing up with a groan. Ellie, poor girl, just squints in the opposite direction, a stillness in her posture.
“Hey, man. I’m sorry that it ended like this,” You tell her and she looks at you, her eyes dazed. She’s listening, but she's not here. “But you and,” you glance, sourly, over at the man, “him are alive and that's lucky enough.”
“Joel.” You think it's a cough at first when he introduces himself, but you just nod in acknowledgement. Joel. It’s a dumb name.
“Sure…it's getting late. We should find a place to camp out before they bring in reinforcements. Did you wanna sleep some more? Me and Joel can switch shifts.” Ellie is trying to seem eager but it only comes out with a half smile.
“No.” Joel is quick to answer before you do.
“She was barely able to stand up. And we know that shes not fucking evil, so why cant she just join us?”
“I said no,” he says, turning to you, he scowls, “you’ve come this far on your own just fine.” You grit your teeth.
“We can take her to Jackson with us too!” Ellie looks at you with more light in her eyes, making you quizzical.
“What the hell is in Jackson,” you ask. Joel’s eyes dart between you both. He’s nervous. Good, he ought to be.
“Nothing- Ellie, keep it shut. Hey, Miss Independent,” He starts, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you can stay with us for one night. Just one. You probably still got that stuff in your system and you’d be a sitting duck out there anyway.” He doesn’t look at you, but instead turns to Ellie, raising his eyebrows. She nods in appreciation. He sighs heavily. “Let’s move then.”
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
The ground is cool in the spring evening, soft from a previous rain. You like watching the snails move slowly over the rocks and dirt. They are lucky enough, not knowing about any of this. Your fingers trail over the bite scar on your forearm, soothing the ache that lingers when you think about it for too long.
“Do you like jokes?” Before you can answer, Ellie is reaching into her backpack, bringing out a small book.
“Don't interrupt someone working on a puzzle. Chances are, you’ll hear some crosswords.” She’s grinning as you pretend to gag. Joel just stares at you both.
“Wow, that was so awful,” you say.
“How much money does a pirate pay for corn?”
“What-”
“A buccaneer.”
“Honestly, I wish that he had shot me at this point. It would've been less painful than this.” Ellie bursts out into laughter, bringing a smile to your face. Joel’s stare had been fixated on his boots, but now he’s looking straight at you, holding his rifle tight.
“I was goin to actually shoot you, you know that right?”
You just roll your eyes.
“Calm down, killer. It was a joke.” He just gets up and walks a bit into the distance.
You and Ellie go back and forth, sharing puns and terrible jokes.
“Your pops is definitely the life of the party,” you say, glancing at him as he stands facing away from you, scanning the horizon for signs of god knows what. You can’t help but notice how his denim button up sits nicely on his broad shoulders. He’s so annoying, his strong hands holding his rifle.
“Don’t mind him, he just acts like an asshole sometimes. And he’s not my dad either.” You raise your eyebrows.
“Wow, yall seem to fit so well together in a funny way, I just figured y'all were close.”
“Nah,” she answers, waiting a beat before adding, “no parents before this.” She hands the book to you, for you to shuffle through. “But me and him are close.”
“That’s sounds like family to me. And, by the way, you’re just missing the tight ginger curls and a red dress.”
“My jacket is red.”
“Then you’re halfway there,” you shoot her a smile, and she grins in response.
Joel stalks back over to you both, awkwardly clearing his throat.
“Y'all should go to sleep. It’s late.” You both nod.
“I can take the first shift,” you offer.
“Like hell.” Your eyes lock onto his as you stand up.
“I can handle it. I'm not new here.” Showing almost no emotion, he just shakes his head and you sigh. You’ve had your fair amount of fights today and there is not much left.
“Since he’s gonna be on watch, you can take his sleeping bag,” Ellie holds it out to you. You look up at him again, your silence asking what you didn’t have the energy to verbalize.
“S’fine. Go ahead.” And with that he turns away, walking to the edge of the camp perimeter, grumbling under his breath.
The night falls silent, and as you lay in the sleeping bag, you feel ashamed. You don't want to be a damsel in distress, but here you are betraying yourself by using his sleeping bag. Ill leave in the morning, you think to yourself. I’ll leave in the morning and go back..back to..where? Where do you go? This was supposed to be the end of suffering for all humanity and you're just going to walk back to your apartment in the QZ? Like nothing happened? You would be going back with one less person than you had left. You couldn’t go back, as if everything was normal. And the thoughts persist until you fall asleep, the scent of smoke and earth lingering on the sleeping bag, the shadow of him shifting under the dim moonlight.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Some time in the night you wake up, quick to sit up, not remembering your surroundings for a second. Joel is sitting on the log across from you and Ellie, and he tenses when you jolt up.
“I’m sorry,” you say, chest heaving. “I just,” you make a gesture but give up. “I’m good.” He nods.
“So, you’re immune?” He asks, his gaze never leaving you.
“It would seem so, yeah.” You shrug, lifting your forearm up enough to show him the scarring. “Worst first date ever.” You chuckle, watching his face for any sign of amusement, but finding nothing. Only his dark brown eyes watching you back.
You are too tired.
“I can switch shifts with you if you want. You've been up for a while.”
“No, thanks.”
“Fine. I'll stay up,” you say, getting out from inside the sleeping bag and sitting on top of the material, gritting your teeth. “That way we can both be fucking miserable.”
For a while there is nothing but silence between you two as you hear him click the rifle over and over. You shiver, rubbing your hands together, consciously trying not to make eye contact with him. But your eyes drift to him, the moonlight making him look sweeter than he has been to you. His lips are parted, drawing in slow breaths that accentuate the movement of his broad shoulders. The grey in his hair is brighter too. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours before they drag down your frame and back up again.
“You’re shivering.”
“I’m good, it's just a little breeze. Won’t kill me.”
He doesn’t respond, which is consistent with the rest of his behavior. Asshole. He only stands up and goes over to his pack, closer to Ellie, and quietly grabs something from it, walking over to you. Joel stands in front of you, tall and strong, pushing something out towards you.
“It’s chilly out here.”
“I said I’m good.”
“Take it,” he says, his voice stern. Then he sighs. “C’mon Miss Independent, it's just a little jacket. It won't kill ya.” The cadence of his voice echoes your earlier statement, and you hum in response, grabbing the jacket.
As you slip it on, he goes back to his place on the log, neither of you saying a word. It's a bit too big for you, but you huddle underneath it, secretly cursing yourself for accepting it but thanking him in the process. You don’t want to trust him. He was going to shoot you earlier. He held a knife to your throat. The same man that gave you his sleeping bag for you to rest. The same man that just handed you his jacket because you looked cold. He is annoying, no doubt. But perhaps he ain't too bad.
---->Chapter 2
[A/N: this was fun and I hope y'all like it. I was listening to the Johnny cash song and thought it would be cool to write something based off the stanzas of the song. lemme know what y'all think]
Warnings: PostOutbreak!Joel, Canon typical violence, angst, TW discussion of SA, TW of sibling loss, near panic attack(more like a trauma response), um there is only one bed
Chapter 1
Chapter 2/8
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
I Keep A Close Watch On This Heart Of Mine
I Keep My Eyes Wide Open All The Time.
I Keep The Ends Out For The Tie That Binds
Because You're Mine,
I Walk The Line
“That's a sweet knife you got there,” you say, nodding at Ellie who is flipping the blade in her hand while Joel frowns over the map he’s reading.
“It was my mom’s.”
It’s too early and you know that, not miffed by her deadpan voice. You reach into your own front pocket, where a blade is clipped, unlocking the blade from the handle it was tucked into.
“This one was a gift from my father. He thought we should always have one.” You hand it to her for her small hands to inspect it, the pads of her fingers grazing over the resin handle.
“Pretty. How did he find it?”
Your eyes cast down for a second as you recall the image of your father handing it to you in your bedroom, your radio on, playing some Taylor Swift song in the background.
“This was from before,” you start, a tight smile across your lips. “I always liked the old-fashioned ones they had at the museums so I guess that's why he chose this one from the store.”
“They just..sold knives? Like, specifically weapons, in stores?”
“Dude, where I’m from, you could buy a gun before you could drink alcohol legally. Shit was crazy.” Joel’s head finally perks up from his focus on the map.
“Where are you from?”
You squint at him.
“Texas.”
“Yeah, but where.”
“You find where we’re supposed to be heading to or not?”
He just glares at you, “no.” So you walk over to him, putting your hand out to hold the map.
“Prolly cuz your eyes are going. Gimme that.” You look through the lines. “We could just cut across. We’d have to be careful with the steep-“
“Now, why in the hell wouldn’t we just go through the highway. It’s safer than through the mountains.”
“It’s not safer. I barely made it out from some,” you shiver, balling up your fists. “Some fucking wack job settlement…saw them chopping up some person. It was so...” You trail off for a second, the empty heaviness of your stomach making you queasy at the memory. “They grazed me too. Sons a bitches.”
Lifting your shirt, you point to the half-healed scar on your side. Ellie’s eyes go wide.
“Did you stitch yourself up?”
“Well, I couldn’t just keep on bleeding, so I had to.”
“That’s so cool. I had to stitch him up,” Ellie says, beaming with pride as she pokes his arm. He rolls his eyes but when he looks down at her he gives her a small smile.
“Not the best technique in the field but she did a good job,” he says. He turns to you again, glancing at Ellie. “Were they a group of men?”
“One of them was named David-“ she interrupts.
“I didn’t exactly get the chance to introduce myself. They saw me, started shooting, so I just ran. We killed one of them though.”
“We?”
You freeze, not wanting to think about it. You fold up the map and shove it back into Joel's hands.
“We can take 65 north until we hit the creek. I’m sure we’ll have ample time to get there.” They both nod at you, and you're grateful that they don’t push, even if Ellie looks like she’s biting back a hundred questions. Onward, you begin the walk.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
“We can just sit for a second,” Joel says, sitting down on a short boulder embedded in the ground. You and Ellie share a look, holding back laughs.
“He’s got old man knees,” Ellie says, smirking over at him. Once again, he only glares at her. He makes a gesture to her backpack.
“I’m stealing your water, give it.” She rolls her eyes, taking off her backpack and grabbing the canteen inside, handing it to him.
“You have your own.”
“But I would have to reach into my own backpack and I don’t wanna do that.” He gives her a smile as she sits down close beside him, claiming his space as her own. You take it as a moment to also sit, a distance away from them both. The coolness of the rock can be felt through the fabric of the denim. Reminds you of camping around a fire on cool evenings.
Joel takes a swig from the canteen and holds it in his lap, distracted when Ellie makes a face at him. She raises her eyebrows, nudging him, motioning a nod in your distraction. He frowns back at her, his head shake minutely visible. She relaxes into a more disappointed expression, causing him to clear his throat.
“Do you want some,” he asks, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck. You see how Ellie leans forward to watch you, and it makes your chest tighten with joy.
“Wow, thank you, Joel. That’s so sweet of you,” you say, trying to piss him off as much as possible, making your voice as syrupy as you can make it. You lightly place a hand on his arm. “You’re too kind,” you add, giving him a gentle squeeze. He gets up abruptly, scoffing.
“Ridiculous. Can’t even drink water in peace.”
As he stands up, you look back to Ellie, giving her a wink of appreciation. You both get up and run ahead of him, putting some space between both and him.
“So you really didn’t run into them, the crazy church people.” Her voice is low. Soft, but cold. You wince.
“Yes and no. Luckily, we didn’t get caught up with them entirely, but we…were still hurt by ‘em.” You focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
“You keep saying we-“
“I don’t-I can't, Ellie. It’s only been like 2 weeks.” And somehow the time had escaped you before, because now as you say it, the number punches the air out of your lungs. “It’s only been 2 weeks,” you say again, feeling its weight. Ellie nods.
“The head guy, fucking asshole. He, uh, he tried to.” She stops, not really sure of how to say the words, but you turn your gaze to her direction and her eyes meet yours.
“Did he?”
“I killed him,” Ellie says, blinking slowly. There are no tears, only a glazed look in her eyes. There is nothing behind her words, no heat or coldness. You nod back this time.
“It does get easier, ya know? And sometimes it hits you out of nowhere, that ugly-ass feeling, but you’ll be okay. It passes and you realize its just that-a feeling. No one is there, it’s just the fear that is left. Plus,” you look over your shoulder, watching Joel as he’s focused on the trees to the side of you. You smile, glad she still has someone. “You got him to help you along. You’ll never be alone” She looks back at him too, which grabs his attention this time.
“What?”
“Nothin, we’re just talking about how you take forever. Try keeping up with our pace.” You motion to where you both are walking.
He huffs as you both slow down for him to meet up.
“I don’t need your goddamn pity.” You roll your eyes in response.
“Hey, Ellie. I think Joel would absolutely love to hear a few jokes right now.” And before you finish your sentence, she’s bringing out her book from her backpack.
“No-“ he pleads.
“How do you organize a space party?” She’s beaming. You nudge his arm with your elbow.
“This is the part where you take a guess, cowboy.” He casts you a sideways glance, and for a second you catch the slight curl of a smile from him.
“I dunno.”
“You planet!”
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
You always find it funny, hearing birds chirp, their song always falling on the ruins of an empty town. It’s too stark of a contrast to not be funny. How ironic that dark humor is the only way to make light of things.
“Find anything, your Highness?” You turn to his voice, scowling. “Well, it's just that we’re running on fumes and you seem to be taking your sweet time staring out the window-“
“Yeah, yeah I get it.” You grumble, looking back through the shelves of the empty gas station. “Bossy as hell,” you add, under your breath.
“Ya got something to say?” He says, stepping towards you. You cock your head to the side in annoyance.
“Yeah. I said you're bossy as hell, and that you stink,” you say, grabbing the deodorant stick you had found earlier, shoving it towards him. “Here. Ya need it.”
He holds it, taken aback by your quick response.
“I’m glad you found this. Now, when we’re starving in the middle of the damn woods, we can just eat this. You’re such a great help.” His voice falls flatly, brown eyes still peering down at you.
“Fuck you, Joel.”
“Not even in your dreams, sweetheart,” he says, backing away from you to continue rummaging through the shelves. It angers you that he twists your words like that, like you would ever want him, but you can't help but feel heat rush to your face at the pet name. Sweetheart. You know he doesn’t mean it in a nice way, but it's not your fault he has a gruff voice.
“I found this,” Ellie’s footsteps get louder as she approaches you both, holding what looks like a tin can. “It looks like the other one we had in the truck.”
“Finally,” he says. “Somethin’ useful.” You roll your eyes.
“Find any grounds to go with it?” You ask, and she shakes her head. You follow her back to where she’d found it until you find a canister rolled under a metal rack in the back closet. Ellie runs off to look around the store. You get on your knees, eyeing the prize, reaching your arm underneath. As you pull it back, canister in hand, you feel a tight tug on your shoulder. “Fuck,” you grit out. “Ellie, can you come here please.”
The sound of boots walking up to you makes you freeze. They're much heavier than Ellie’s shoes.
“What in the hell are you doing?” God, you can’t see him but you just know that he’s smirking.
“Watching the fucking dust collect, what does it look like?”
“Well, seems you’ve got it handled then.” His boots start to walk away.
“-wait. Fuck. I just- I found coffee under here, but I think my shirt got caught on the shelf.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Get it un-caught?” You say, annoyed that he's making you spell it out for him.
“Gotta start asking nicely, if ya want me to help.” There’s a beat of silence again.
“Fine,” you start, trying to push out the words that are making you twinge with embarrassment. “Can you help me get unstuck.”
“Not even a ‘please’ or nothin?”
You can practically feel his mocking tone, gritting against your patience, making you huff in irritation.
“Please, Joel.” Neither of you make a move, which is when it dawns on you just how tense you are, realizing that you’re bent over on your knees, pleading for his help. He must sense it too, because he is quick to dissipate the situation.
“Yeah, yeah. S’fine.” You feel a presence against your side as his fingers unhook whatever part of the fabric was caught on the metal. You hold back a small groan as you get up, canister in hand, your joints aching from being in that awkward position. He follows suit. You look at the canister as you hand it to him.
“Here. Something useful,” you look up, your eyes meeting his. “And thank you.” He just nods, turning away.
“We should get going.”
-/-/-/-/-/-/
There's not much in this little town. It doesn't look like chaos hit here, only appears as if peace had left. No thrown bikes or burnt cars, all carcasses of a life that was quickly abandoned. There is only quiet. You used to love the idea of a house with overgrown vines and flowers, untouched by an office job and rules, but now as you stare down the street, that is all you see, and it's only eerie. Now it is just a lawless land, covered in green, but somehow still empty of life.
“So, are we just gonna keep going? My feet hurt.” Ellie asks yet another question and it quells the haunting silence of the town.
“We’ll find a place in a bit. The sun is goin’ down anyway.''Joel looks toward you and you nod in approval.
“I’m not facing mountain demons out there. I’d rather camp out here.” Your comment ignites a surge of questions from Ellie.
“Demons?” To this, you hum as an answer, checking your surroundings.
“Like real ones?” She adds.
“Look, all I’m saying is I don’t want to find out.”
Joel chuckles, readjusting his jacket in his backpack strap.
“Yeah,” he begins. “Whole bunch of stories of things roaming out there. Scarier than any infected.”
“Nothing human anyway,” you say, smiling at Joel as Ellie’s eyes go wide.
“Why the fuck are we out here when the sun is going down, hurry up!” She tugs on his sleeve and the three of you set out to find a place to stay for the night.
You do an easy sweep of a house, covering Joel the entire time, synced into his every movement, as if you had done it a hundred times before. The coast is clear.
“I call the batman bedroom,” Ellie quips after getting the greenlight from him. You lean over the couch, just barely peering over the back of it.
“No offense, but I’m not sleeping there.”
He leans over too, getting a better look at what scared both of you earlier.
An infected carcass, dry and grey, after what looks like years of being attached to the cushions, never getting any visitors.
“Wouldn’t ask you to.”
You head towards the kitchen, excited to rummage through the pantry and drawers. God, your parents would be mortified to see you like this, going through a strangers kitchen with no invitation. Your sister would probably compare you to a raccoon. Your sister. There is a gnawing feeling in your stomach and you suck in a deep breath, pushing yourself into the pantry as a distraction.
Eventually, you come across a few cans of ravioli that had rolled behind the washer and dryer. At this point you’re almost heaving your breaths, quickly finding that you can't stop thinking about her. You didn’t look hard enough. She would have still been alive if it weren’t for you. You left her there. You were supposed to take care of her. You were supposed to keep her safe. You failed her. And there was nothing to tell you different.
“You okay?” You hear his voice carry from behind you. But now it sounds softer, hushed.
You only nod, still facing away from his voice, leaning against the doorframe of the pantry, as if it's the only thing holding you up, staring at the empty shelves. He takes a few steps closer.
“You sure?”
Turning around, you take in a shaky breath, holding up the cans of ravioli.
“I found us some dinner.” At any other time, he probably would’ve scoffed or huffed or sighed or any other thing he does when he’s tired of you, but instead he sets his gaze on your face, searching for any sign of what was wrong. Not able to pinpoint a reason, he nods.
“Ellie’s gonna like this. Glad you found it.”
He was right. She absolutely loves it.
“We’ve haven't had these in foreverrr,” Ellie says with a mouthful of food.
“Close your mouth.”
She side-eyes him, but stays silent until she swallows anyway.
“I wish macaroni and cheese was a non-perishable food.” You say, remembering the joys of growing up on nothing but chemicals and cheese. “I miss it.” Joel makes a disgusted face.
“Of all foods, that's the one ya got your heart set on?” You dramatically place your fork down, eyebrows raised.
“Alright, hot shot, what the hell would you choose?” He looks up for a second, deep in thought.
“Bagel bites.” You scoff, but then shrug, noticing Ellie’s confusion.
“He makes a mean argument. Those were pretty good. Like little pizzas, just had to put them in the oven and they came out perfect.” Ellie ‘oohs’ in wonder.
“See?” He says.
“Eat your canned ravioli.” Shaking your head, you see him smiling a bit while eating his food. For the rest of ‘dinnertime’ the three of you sit there at the table, in the house, on the empty street, in the abandoned town, arguing over foods that don’t exist anymore and about who has a better taste in music. For a moment it feels safe. For a moment all of this is enough to survive off of. You felt safe back then too, and look what happened to her. What happened to you.
“Well, I’m gonna start taking all the posters down so I can put them up when we- For later, I guess. I dunno.” Ellie shrugs, not really caring about being discreet.
“G’night,” you and Joel say, watching as she walks down the hall to the bedroom. It had been covered in Batman and Joker posters. The teen must have been a DC type of guy. We can’t get out of here soon enough, you think to yourself, chuckling because you are hilarious.
“-that way we have space.” You turn to him, checking into the conversation.
“What?” You ask. He huffs in annoyance.
“I said that you can just hand me the extra pillow and I can sleep on the floor. That way we can both have space.”
You frown, walking to the master bedroom and swinging the door open, holding your arm out to the space.
“It’s a king-sized bed, Joel. We have more than enough room to fit.” You watch him quizzically as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“I know, it's just..ya know.” You don't let up and he groans in frustration. “I’m just sayin’ I can sleep on the floor. So nothin’ is weird. It’s an option.”
You roll your eyes.
“I swear, it’s like you say stuff specifically to piss me off,” you say, fluffing up your pillow. “I’m fine with it. If you would be more comfortable on the ground, then go for it.” You pause, looking at him as stands at the edge of the room, leaning on his hip, trying to be completely still as if unsure about entering the space.
“Look, it’s up to you if you really don't-”
“Joel. Do you want to sleep on the bed? Yes or no.” You look at him sternly, hand on your hip. His eyes trail quickly over your frame before he speaks again, quieter than before.
“Yes.”
“Then that settles it. But you’re getting the flat pillow because this conversation upset me.”
“Fine by me,” he says, following your movements and positioning his pillow. There is a comfortable silence as you both untie your boots, getting underneath the blankets, the smell of dust coating them. A glow of blue moonlight falls upon the foot of the bed, being the only light in the dark room. You keep fidgeting in your space, creaking the bed.
“Please stop moving.”
“I can't sleep,” you say, switching from your side to your back, and back over again.
“Don’t care.”
“Then shut it.” You hear a chuckle on his side of the bed so you shuffle around to look over at him. He’s laying on his back, looking over at you now, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Just think it’s funny that you made such a fuss about me sleeping on the bed when you can’t even sleep on it yourself. Maybe you should sleep on the floor.” That bastard. Your eyes are better adjusted to the darkness now and you can make out his smile a bit better than before and you shake your head.
“Asshole. Tryin to get rid of me. I’m staying in this bed whether you like it or not,” you say, finally laying down, your head against the pillow, still facing him.
“Well, at least take me out for dinner first with a threat like that.”
And you thank whatever being is in charge for making it dark enough that he can't see you blush from where he’s laying down.
“Wow, so I guess the ravioli didn’t cut it, huh?” You giggle, watching his face. He stays quiet, slightly shaking his head now. He seems so relaxed, his chest rising and falling slowly with every moment that passes.
“G’night,” he tells you as he rolls onto his side.
“Goodnight, cowboy.”
------>Chapter 3
TAGLIST: @ginger-swag-rapunzel <3 thank you for being my first taglist acct
[A/N: lmao this is my first ever fanfic and this shit had me looking up US maps and terrible puns. it was fun thooo lemme know what y'all think]
Warnings: Outbreak!Joel, Canon typical violence(more detailed), angst, TW almost SA, TW of sibling loss, shock and ptsd, fluff, comfort
I Find It Very, Very Easy To Be True
I Find Myself Alone When Each Day Is Through
Yes, I'll Admit I'm A Fool For You
Because You're Mine,
I Walk The Line
He swears that the sinking feeling in his stomach never leaves, not even in his sleep. Don’t let her go. You’re going to lose. Hold tight. Joel wakes up, chest heaving with pain as he tries to swallow the fear that threatens to come up in a soft cry for help.
“Joel.”
His head whips to your voice, startled by how close you are. Then he feels the warmth of your skin and realizes that he has a death-like grip on your waist, your shirt pushed up ever so slightly.
“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean.” His hands leave your waist as if you burned him, pressing them against himself, afraid he will still feel you linger on his palms.
“It’s fine. You just scared the hell out of me. You okay?” You ask. He can’t see your eyes in the dark, only your silhouette of your frame being propped up by your elbow, the moonlight coming in through the window behind you. You don’t seem frantic. You’re calm. You’re okay. So, he doesn’t feel crazy. He’s okay.
“I’m good.” His breathing is more even now, following the rhythm of your own breathing.
Your gaze doesn’t leave him, examining every part of his face. Yes, you see his ash colored hair that’s disheveled from sleep, his lips parted as he counts his breaths, his hands over his own chest as if trying to weigh it down enough so he doesn’t panic again. But what strikes you the most are his eyes. His eyes don’t leave yours and, in those two dark endless pools, you see an emotion far too familiar to miss. Guilt.
And maybe it's yours, or maybe it's his, or maybe an intertwining of both. But in that moment, it becomes a burden that neither of you have to carry alone.
“I’m sorry if I scared you ‘cause I grabbed you-“
“Don’t worry about it, cowboy,” you say, patting his arm. “Just try to get some more sleep. We got a long day of walking tomorrow.” He starts sitting up, shaking off whatever tiredness was left.
“I really should be on watch. I’ll be out there. Sorry, again.” He sits at the edge of the bed and begins tying his boots. You want to reach out and press your palm against his back. You want to ask him to come back to bed. That you wouldn’t mind if he held you again. That you didn’t feel scared laying beside him. That you felt safe.
But it’s weak, it’s feeble. So you just lay back down, facing around to the window of the room. He is not yours to keep, you are not his to make safe.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
You spring up from bed, ready to start walking again. It’s the only distraction from your thoughts and it's better than rotting in bed. Wiping your eyes, you walk out to the kitchen.
“Well, it’s nice of ya to finally join us, sweetheart. Hope we didn’t disturb your beauty sleep.” Joel leans against the counter, holding a thermos in his hand. He’s smug. And it’s too early for this.
“Good morning to Ellie and Ellie only.” You walk around to the counter he’s at, squinting at him in fake anger. “Ya got another one of those?”
“If I wanted to share, I would’ve brought two.”
“Give me that-” you say, laughing as you swipe the thermos from him, sipping at the hot coffee.
“I don’t know how you can drink that. It’s disgusting.” Ellie is just sitting at the table, chin on her palms as she watches you both, cringing. You shrug, handing it back to Joel.
“It doesn’t taste the greatest, but it gets the job done.”
“I guess you could say,” Ellie begins to say slowly, getting up from her chair. “That coffee is terrible because it’s…just…” The pacing of her words causes you and him to side eye each other, searching for an answer for whatever the hell she was doing.
“It’s just a good ole’ cup of Joel.”
“Oh my-“ “That was fuckin’ terrible-“ “Ellie go get your pack, you got two minutes-“
She throws her hands up, “Fuck you guys. That was a good one and you know it.” Ellie leaves the kitchen, a bit of pep in her step. Joel just shakes his head.
“She’s got a point, you are terrible.” You laugh, grabbing the thermos.
“I don’t taste bad.”
It takes everything in you to hold back your big, growing smile, grateful to have the thermos blocking the view. You close the gap to his side by nudging his arm with your elbow.
“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” You wink at him and he rolls his eyes.
“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs, leaving to the bedroom to grab his pack.
-/-/-/-/-/
I told you. You felt too safe and now look at what's happened.
First, it was a blood curdling scream that caused the three of you to freeze, Ellie looking to Joel, and Joel looking to you.
“Joel-“ Ellie’s voice had been strained with fear. He just grabbed her arm to silence her. You were too far into the town, and that scream was too close, to outrun them.
Then it was the gunshots that had pierced the silence, and that's when everything went to hell. Bullets flying everywhere, commands being yelled at amongst the group of intruders. That’s when the ducking, the running, and shooting back began.
“Where the fuck did she go?” Joel spits the words at you now, in a hushed voice as you both crouch behind an old, rusted car. Your eyes scan for any flash of red amongst the horizon of houses and driveways. No jacket to be seen.
“I dunno, but she-“
“You were holding her goddamnit, how the fuck did you let her go?”
“Said I don’t know, Joel. But she couldn’t have gone far.” You push the words out of gritted teeth, a heaviness in your chest. Bullets can be heard too close for comfort. He stares at you, nostrils flaring.
“You shoulda never come with us.”
And with that last remark, you clench your jaw and blink slowly, until there is nothing left to feel. You let Ellie down. You were supposed to take care of her. You were better off dying for an imaginary cure.
Suddenly, you’re running, boots hitting the asphalt.
“Ellie!” You scream, hoping others’ ears will hear you, hoping she knows that Joel must be near. “Ellie!” All Ellie and Joel need is a moment of distraction to get out of here. You hear boots behind you, but you turn around to find it's only him chasing. Before another thought passes he grabs your arm, hard enough to bruise, dragging you into a half open garage. He throws you up against the wall, putting his forearm against your chest, pinning you there.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Tryna get killed-“
“Get the fuck off me!” You throw him off, baring your teeth. “I was leading them away, buying y’all time.” You both look at each other, refusing to back down first. A spray of bullets hits the garage door, a loud shriek of metal ripping. He throws himself onto you, shielding your body with his. In the brief lull of reloading guns, Joel pulls you up by the short sleeve of your shirt and you both scramble through the door leading into the house, his hand never letting go of your wrist. But the front door is hit with something and it slams open.
“Move and she’s dead,” the stranger says, aiming his weapon at you. You slowly turn to glance at Joel and he only nods at the threat, lowering his rifle. Three other men walk in, holding their own guns. A dangerous grin paints their faces as they survey the two of you.
“She’s a pretty little thing, ain't she boys?” The man closest to you, holding the gun up, smiles as the words leave his lips. Your blood runs cold. A blond boy, not yet old enough to be a man, just stares at you, his eyes trailing down your frame with a greediness that made you sick to your stomach.
“How old are you, baby?” He asks.
“Fuck you.”
They all let out little laughs.
“Oh, don’t you worry, baby. You will.” You swallow the bile that threatens to come up. You’re gonna die you sick son of a bitch.
“Alright, lets get this over with. You, move it,” the lead man motions Joel to move. He looks to you, shaking his head.
“No.”
“Go goddamnit,” you say, irritated that he would be so stupid.
“You better listen to your girl, pal, or you won't be hearing her voice for much longer.”
The blond boy begins walking over to you and you hold your breath. His knuckles graze your arm, trailing up to your cheek. You grit your teeth, not letting any of your fear seep through your expressions.
“And she sounds so pretty when she’s upset…wonder what she sounds like when she screams-” His hands tangle roughly into your hair, shoving you onto the floor, pain gripping your scalp and knees, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.
“Joel,” you beg. Your harsh cry brings their attention to you.
Joel disarms the man in front of him, using that same gun to put a bullet through him, before grabbing his limp body as a shield the moment the other two intruders turn their guns to him.
A new scream interrupts the gunfire and the man near the front door falls limply, Ellie running from behind him with a pointed gun. The moment is all Joel needs to grab the other intruder and drag him to the floor, both of them delivering punches and responding with fresh blood.
The blond boy throws you hard against the floor, facing Ellie to throw a punch to her cheek and then her stomach, sliding her gun across the kitchen linoleum.
“You’re next you little bitch!” He leaves her weak on the floor and runs to you as your fingers are close to grabbing her pistol. “I don’t fucking think so-”
He pulls you up by your hair, his hand now wrapping around your throat as he slams your body against the wall, successfully knocking the air out of you. You claw at his hand as your body processes the multiple bruise and cuts that have just been endured. The blond boy’s hand reaches for the button of your jeans, so you kick him, but you only land your knee onto his stomach which only angers him more.
“Fucking whore-” he bites out. Ellie swings an iron pan against his head, beating it in over and over and over again when he falls to the ground. Your stature crumbles momentarily, gasping in recovery. But then you grab her, holding her tight, wiping the specs of blood from her face.
The lead man is now holding a knife to Joel, hovering over him, the only thing stopping him from diving it into his throat is Joel’s forearm, shaking with force. Reaching down, you pick up Ellie’s gun and pull the trigger. A second later, the man is screaming in pain, gripping his shoulder. Joel stumbles up from his place on the floor, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and head, his shirt pulled taut as he snaps the man’s neck. The body slips through his hold, Joel’s eyes flickering up to you.
You’re gripping Ellie tight, holding her head to your chest, shielding her from the scene. You know she has seen death. There aren’t many who haven’t in this world, but you know that whatever she has seen has been enough. The younger girl breathes hard, opening her eyes to see Joel, her eyes glazed over with shock. And it’s this picture of you holding Ellie that Joel just can’t tear his eyes away from.
He would kill a hundred more men if it meant the look of fear would disappear from your face. He would do anything to make the two of you feel safe again.
You cough in pain, snapping him out of his daze.
“We can’t stay here. Who knows how many more of them there are. We’ll take what we can and go.”
-/-/-/-/-/-/
It was nothing but silence for the rest of the hike, save for the crunch of some gravel and the occasional bird chirp. The three of you hold your breath until a small creek comes into view and you all agree to stop here for a second.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I pulled away because I thought you were gonna follow me. I saw a broken fence that looked like it just opened up to a trail and I-” Ellie begins rambling, both her hands fiddling with the seam on the sides of her jeans, but you stop her, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking your head. Then you pause for a second.
“You should dip your feet in,” you say, your face blank of emotion, motioning to the creek. Ellie looks at you quizzically.
“Why?”
“Cuz’ I said so, go put your feet in and let me know if anything bites.” You give her a half smile, pushing the loose locks of hair that had fallen from their place in her ponytail back over her shoulder. She can’t smile back yet, but she nods, walking over to a rock closer to the water to start taking off her shoes. You find a spot beside the creek, tucking your legs into a criss cross, laying your hands on your lap. Your eyes focus on nothing, empty of purpose.
Joel sits down beside you, his knee joint popping and he lands. You exhale in amusement, barely shaking your head.
“You doin’ okay?” He asks.
“Peachy.” You’re not angry or sad or afraid. You’re just trying to be you, but your response falls flat.
“Look, those things I said back there-”
“You know what the last thing I told my sister was?” Your voice is quiet, barely leaving your lips. You stay watching the water, half lidded, like you’re watching the event unfold in its reflection. “Run, I’ll find you. That’s what I told her.”
“Sweetheart-”
“And you know what I did, Joel?” You turn to him now, lip curled in anger. “I didn’t fucking find her. I looked for her everywhere. For anything-any sign that she was alive, or even fuckin’ dead. But nothing…I found nothing. Like she didn’t even exist.” You clench your jaw, hot tears slipping from your eyes as you turn back to watch the water. You swallow the pain of your mourning and of your new injuries. “She was just gone.” Irritated, you wipe away the tears on your cheek, harshly rubbing your skin in annoyance. She’s gone and you're the one crying?
“-Look! There’s these little fish that keep coming up to my feet. They’re really small though-” You sniffle, sucking in a quick breath as you stand up, dusting off the dirt from your pants.
“Lemme see.” You walk over and she wiggles her feet, watching as the fish dart away.
“I wish there were sharks here,” Ellie sighs.
“You’re a weirdo. Joel- we stayin’ the night here?” You turn to him and he’s still sitting down. When he looks up at you, you see it again, that damned guilt. His sad, beautiful eyes hold so much more than he ever says, and you wish he’d hold you, or let you hold him. God, it’s so confusing but you wish he would just say something-
“Yeah, we’ll sleep here tonight.”
And that’s as much as you get.
You take a cloth to the water, wringing it out, softly cleaning and soothing the welt on Ellie’s cheek. She is too young for this and it makes your chest tighten with grief. She doesn’t need any help, but you offer to redo her ponytail and she lets you, sitting with her back to you, between your knees as you sit taller than her. Running your fingers through her hair, occasionally dipping your hand into the water to slick all of the strands into her ponytail, you are reminded of a different life.
You see your sister, your mother, your grandmother, in the same position, love being passed on from hands to hair in this quiet act of tradition. For a moment, Ellie gives you a glimpse into a life that exists somewhere out there in all of its simple beauty. You aren’t a girl hollowed out by the wrath of survival. You are a mother, combing your fingers through your daughter’s soft hair after a long day of playing rough outside. You’re strong. And you’re more than alive, you’re truly living.
You pat Ellie’s shoulder.
“All done, cowgirl.”
“I’m not Texan,” she replies, frowning.
“What the-girl, where are you from?” You had never thought to ask where she was from.
“Dude, I’m from Boston.”
You look up, searching for an alternative.
“Okay- all done, sewer rat.” She giggles, and it’s the first time since earlier today that you hear her sound so alive.
Ellie is the first one to fall asleep, snoring softly into her sleeping bag.
“You can use mine again,” Joel says. You shake your head, not wanting any more pity. Not from him. He doesn’t owe you anything. The only reason you even stay is because you can’t abandon Ellie. You’re not letting that little girl slip through your fingers ever again.
“I’m good. Don’t need it. I’ll take first watch.”
“Like hell-”
You throw your hands up to your face, rubbing in frustration.
“Joel, why do you have to fight me on this? Why do you always have to fight me on shit like this?” You don’t notice that he’s closed the gap between you until his hands gently wrap around your wrists, bringing down your hands from your face. You stare at him in confusion.
“I’m not fighting you, darlin’,” he says in a hushed voice, his gaze searching your face for any sour reaction. “You took care of Ellie today-”
“Nearly got her killed, Joel.” You turn your head to see her peacefully unaware of the conversation. His warm palm cups your cheek to bring you back to him, both of you holding your breath.
“No, you took care of her today in a way that I just don’t know how yet.” You close your eyes, willing yourself to not lean into his touch. “Just let me…let me help you.” You take his hand from your cheek, pulling it away from you but still holding it softly.
“You don’t owe me for that. You don’t have to act like-”
“I want to.”
You could stare into his eyes forever, and your gaze threatens to dip lower, to his lips as they whisper your name, but you can’t help looking into his eyes, finding that there is something else lying there, something unfamiliar. It’s no longer just guilt, but you can’t pinpoint what it is. You sigh, nodding as you readjust your shirt.
“Okay…but I’ll take second watch so you can sleep.”
He smiles down at your words of defiance, agreeing.
“You’ll take second watch.”
As you tuck yourself into the sleeping bag, you close your eyes, knowing he wont wake you up for that second shift. It should annoy you that you’re in his sleeping bag again, resting while he’s guarding the both of you. It should annoy you that something as simple as him holding your cheek made your heart stop, that it was so easy to sway you into doing what he wanted. All that strength, his violent abilities, at his very beck and call, but he chose to speak to you softly and hold your face gently as if he could afford to do so. You wouldn’t mind if he looked at you like that again, and that thought makes you shiver.
It doesn’t annoy you. Not at all.
comments and reblogs greatly appreciated:) muah
----->Chapter 4
TAGLIST: @ginger-swag-rapunzel, @notsosecretspy yuh now we got 2 baddies <3
[A/N: I literally wanted to write fanfic so I can giggle about Joel miller smut, but instead I somehow ended up crying about mother-daughter relationships? and feeling like you failed as a sibling? I'm sorry y'all lmao- there WILL be more fluff and sin later I promise<3]
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Warning: cursing, angst, fluff, a fuckton of sexual tension, PIV (wrap it up y’all)
Word Count: 5k
I Find It Very, Very Easy To Be True
I Find Myself Alone When Each Day Is Through
Yes, I'll Admit I'm A Fool For You
Because You're Mine,
I Walk The Line
“Told you to wake me up, damnit.” Joel groans, sitting up from where he had been laying on the ground. Ellie shrugs, clutching the bigger rifle in her hands, dwarfing her frame. He whips his head around.
“Where is she?” There’s a brief panic in his eyes and he questions her.
“She’s over by the creek, fishing I think. She told me to watch you since you were asleep.”
He lifts himself up, groaning as his joints creak. “Stay here.” He walks over to the creek but you’re nowhere to be seen. No noise. No movement. He quickens his pace, breathing your name into the silence as he moves around an embedded boulder, stopping when his chest hits something warm.
“Fucking hell, Joel!” You scramble to cover your chest, afraid that the impact might’ve pushed your bra further down, the only thing you have on your top half. He freezes for a second, impulsively moving his eyes down your frame then back to you. You are beautiful in the morning light.
He turns around, mumbling. “M’ sorry. I didn’t-“ Heat rushes to his face and he presses the heel of his palm into the front of jeans, holding back a hushed moan. Get it together, creep. His embarrassment morphs into anger. “What the hell are you doing? Ellie said you were fishin-“
“I was,” you start, grabbing the shirt that you had laid out to dry on the boulder. “I did. But I had that asshole’s blood on the front of my shirt so I tried to wash it.” You whip the shirt a few times before putting it back on. “I’m decent.”
He turns around, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. “You said you fished?” You roll your eyes as you reach behind the rock where you had placed your two fish, handing them both to him.
“Here, princess. There’s your damn fish. You’re welcome.” You walk past him, towards Ellie, hoping that he doesn’t see the want in your eyes, the need in your pace. You had felt him warm against your bare skin once and now your eyes search for any distraction from the thought that is blaring in your mind. I want him to touch me again.
As you walk past him, he freezes again. You were mocking him, being rough with him- and so pretty while doing it. For a moment, he wonders if you can sense it, his intense need to see you again, to feel you again. He straightens up and follows behind you.
“I’m starving.” Ellie sits up, rifle still in hand.
“Put that down. Can you roll up your sleeping bag? We’ll start walking after we cook those.” She nods and does as she’s told. He glares at her, always having to threaten her to do stuff, always getting a sarcastic reply. She just shrugs.
“Joel,” you say, retying your boot laces. “Clean those up. I’m gonna grab tinder.”
“Miss Bossy,” he grumbles, making you turn on your heel.
“Oh, I’m sorry, was that not polite enough? Here- Joel, would you be an absolute sweetheart and clean those fish up?” You look up at him, peering through your lashes, holding your hands in front of you, making yourself as sweet as possible. It takes every fiber of his being to not let his eyes fall to your chest, where you’ve inadvertently squished your tits together. He squints his eyes at you, refusing to respond, afraid his voice will betray him.
“Pretty please,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm and charm. He huffs.
“Fine.”
“Good.”
You turn to start scavenging for tinder and he unsheathes his switchblade to begin the task. Between bending down to ready the fire and asking Ellie for help, you steal glances at Joel, watching as his arms flex with every tug and pull he carries out to do what you asked. When he catches you staring at one point, you tell him that you’re watching to see if he’s doing it right. He doesn’t believe you, but a fire needed to be made and food needed to be eating, so he doesn’t push it.
-/-/-/-/-/
No matter the context, hiking has always been a comfort. Sure, sometimes it was more physically humbling than enjoyable, but it was always an escape. It used to be an escape from the heavy weight of upcoming bills, phone calls that needed to be made, and the complexities of relationships. You feel the burn of your calves as this particular part of the trail is steep, and you wonder if there will ever be a time where hiking is not an escape from violent death, but from purposeless busyness. You won't live to see it anyway.
“I’m glad you stuck around,” Joel says, every step heavy with thought. Ellie is walking a lot farther ahead of you, leaving you two in your own space. “It’s good for Ellie. She’s a lot better now than when it was just me.” It brings a smile to your face.
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Being a single father is difficult, but everyone’s gotta start somewhere.” You both keep walking, and he doesn’t scoff or huff or respond. There’s just a pause. Then it hits you and you start apologizing. “Joel, I’m sorry if I-“
“It’s not-I’m. Damnit. I’m good, was just thinkin’ bout it is all.” There’s another pause and your nails bite into your palm, afraid of saying anything else. He chuckles.
“You would think, since this isn’t my first time, that I would’ve been a bit better at it.” He turns to you to give you a timid smile. “Sarah loved stuff like this. Hiking, soccer. That girl kept me in shape for sure.” You both laugh.
“She sounds like fun,” you say, your lungs tight. You don’t know if it’s from the joy of knowing he lights up at the thought of her, or if it's the pain of knowing that the thought of her is all he has left of his baby.
“I think her and Ellie would have been close. Sarah wasn’t one to get into trouble but I think those two would have caused chaos together.” He clears his throat. “She would’ve liked you too. Y’all make light of things even when everything goes to hell, it’s nice.” For a second you breath gets caught in your throat, aching with grief.
“It’s the only way I get through it…thanks for playing along, cowboy.” You lightly elbow him, sending him a small smile. He looks at you, overwhelmed with all the things he wants to ask you about.
“I try.”
As you hold his gaze, the mood dips from light conversation to a heavier feeling.
“And that’s all I need.” You nod to him, to accentuate your appreciation, turning to watch your every step as the ground levels out and your boots continue a steady rhythm of walking.
He watches you and wants to know everything about you. What are some of your favorite songs? What is your favorite color? If you could live anywhere, where would you live? Did you like hiking with them? Did you like eating food with him and Ellie like the three of you were a small family? Did you mind sharing a bed with him? Did you like the grey of his hair? Were you flirting with him because the idea of you two together was funny to you? When he caught you staring, was it really to make sure he was doing things right? Did you want him the way he wanted you?
“I found a cabin!” Ellie’s face holds a grin, proud of her discovery.
“Looks like we don’t have to whip out the sleeping bags again,” you say, throwing an arm around her shoulders, shaking her a bit.
You follow the same routine, You and Joel clearing the shelter without hesitation, perfectly in sync.
“One hell of a cabin.” Joel looks around, his eyes catching on every detail in the wood of the structure. You do the same.
“Ellie, you’ve been put on ‘shelter-finding-duty’ officially. This place is beautiful for being dilapidated in the middle of the goddamn woods.” Her face grows into an even bigger smile. You always wanted to stay in a cabin, cozy by a fire, with fuzzy socks and hot chocolate, but the time never came up.
Your eyes dance around from the carved designs on the wood to the grey couches accented by flannel. This used to be someone’s vacation home. With nothing but a lover and miles of beautiful land around them. What a life.
“A fireplace! Can we use it?” Ellie set down her backpack on the couch, inspecting the mess. You look to Joel, shrugging.
“I don’t see why not. But we better get started, the wind sounds like it’s starting to pick up. Don’t want to be picking up firewood in a storm.” You pass out the demands to your little worker ants and they are quick to be on the move. Joel leaves to grab wood for the fire. Ellie starts cleaning out the fireplace.
“Fuck!” She bends over, almost coughing a lung out as dust and ash settles from her work. You frown.
“Hey, maybe don’t shovel it into the air, genius,” you call from the kitchen, once again sifting through whatever is left of the barren pantry. A gunshot rings through the silence of the outdoors and you freeze, listening for anything. A beat passes and you ruffle through Joel’s backpack. Where did he put it? You find it, tossed on the couch. Grabbing your gun, you motion for Ellie to be careful. You walk out the front door.
“It’s me !” Joel says, holding up his hand, dots of blood behind him. You rush to him, grabbing the front of his jacket, then his collar, frantically searching him for injury. He shakes his head, one hand holding yours.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. I just got us dinner is all,” he flashes a proud smile, pulling from behind him a dead coyote. So, it’s not his blood. You lightly shove him, groaning with embarrassment.
“Joel, I thought you got shot. I was so-You just-“
“Aww,” he smirks. “Were you worryin’ about me, darlin’?” His question hangs in the air as he watches you. Your chest is heaving with fading adrenaline, and his eyes catch on your hand. You brought a gun. You were so ready to kill to defend him. And it shouldn’t, it really shouldn’t, but it makes his eyes flicker down to your lips, licking his own in want. You are too close to him, he can feel every breath and all he wants to do it close the small space between you both. You huff, squinting up at him.
“Get your ass inside, it looks like the storm is almost here.” But he doesn’t move. He just continues to look down at you, almost holding his breath.
“Holy fuck, what is that?” Ellie’s voice breaks the tension and you turn to face her.
“Dinner is on him tonight. Is the fireplace ready?” She nods her head. “Alright, help Joel with getting dinner ready and I’ll grab the wood.” He hands the young girl the coyote to drag inside, her arms shaking a bit to keep it from dragging so much.
“I can get the firewood, that way you don’t-“
“Hey, I can do it myself,” you say, grabbing the rifle that is slung over his shoulder, handing your gun to him.
“But-“
“I can handle it. It’s just chopping up some stuff. Plus,” you pat his chest. “You caught us something to eat, so now you can just sit there and look pretty. I’ll be inside in a minute, yeah?” He is so entranced by your voice, the way you speak to him, that he just nods in response.
Joel spends some time showing Ellie how to prep meat after a kill, and you now watch them from the couch, poking the growing fire every now and then. Eventually, he hangs up pieces of meat to cook over the fire, and you all sit on the floor, surrounding a board game on the floor.
“You can’t put ‘beans’ there because ‘en’ isn’t a word this way.” Ellie points at an intersection on the platform. Joel groans, throwing his head back as he leans against the couch.
“Honey, you’re the one who picked the game. This is your fault.” You can’t help but laugh at his frustration, trying to seem casual at the slip of your tongue. You didn’t mean to call him that, it just happened. A slight blush creeps up to his face, but you blame it on the embarrassment. He puts his hands up in defense.
“I know, I know. Blame me for wanting us to have some fun while we eat.”
There is something so domestic about it, playing board games by a fireplace in a big beautiful cabin, that it sparks a heaviness in your stomach. She would’ve beat you at this game. She would have laughed at your dumb words. It’s not fair that you get to live this life with them, and you couldn’t have it with her. She should’ve been here.
“I don’t see why people would have sex by the fireplace,” Ellie says, nearly killing Joel as he chokes on his food. But you only laugh, pulling you from your thoughts.
“At school, girls had books where they’d have sex by the fireplace,” she continues. “Seems more like a fire hazard than anything.” You laugh harder.
“Well, ideally, it would be freezing outside and you’d have the fire to warm you up. So, people just like keeping each other warm I guess.” The young girl cringes, lifting herself up off the floor.
“That’s stupid. I’ve had enough of this.” You roll your eyes at her.
“Ellie, you brought it up? Joel almost died, and I just answered it the best I could.”
She just shrugs, waving at both of you. A series of ‘goodnights’ are said and she walks down the hall to bed.
“She's so weird, that kid.”
“You’re just as weird for answering her,” he says, stretching his legs out in front of him, inches away from where you sit criss-cross.
“I can’t believe this- she asked me a question, I answered it, and now I’m in the doghouse because of it,” you say, holding back a smile. “It was just a guess. Not like I was talking from experience, or giving her pointers.” Something flickers in his eyes but you don’t catch what it is.
“You’ve never?…”
“I don’t know about you, cowboy, but I haven’t exactly had the downtime to be making love besides the fireplace with an adonis.” You eye him up and down. “Have you ever-”
“Maybe,” he says, smiling while he watches the fireplace. You roll your eyes in annoyance, picturing some woman’s delicate hand sliding over his muscles as he fucks her.
“‘course you have,” you say under your breath.
“Whats that supposed to mean?”
You freeze before a nervous giggle bubbles up and you lean to the side, hiding your face behind your hands.
“Hey-you can’t be all mouthy and then not answer.” You can hear his smile. Then you can hear him get closer to you, and you feel the familiar tug of his hand on your hands, pulling them down from your face. You’re hot from laughing and it makes him chuckle too. You straighten up, trying not to laugh since now you have nothing to hide behind.
“I’m just saying,” you start, biting your lip to suppress a laugh. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of dumb little sex-scapades-”
“You sound a little bitter there, sweetheart. Ya sure you ain’t jealous?” His hands still hold your wrists, now making you acutely aware of your pulse against his fingers. But two can play that game.
“Jealous of what, Joel? Hm? Tell me,” you say, barely above whisper, so close he can practically feel your words. Then, you free one hand to reach up and grab the front of his shirt, slowly pulling him forward as you lean in to speak against the shell of his ear. “Couldn’t even win Scrabble, and I’m supposed to be tripping over myself for you?” You slowly push him back, chuckling. “Oh, please.”
But when your eyes meet his again, they’re darker, and you’re almost dazed. You can’t even move. His gaze flickers down to your lips, his breathing heavy now.
“It’s late,” you say, never breaking eye contact with him. “We should go to sleep, Joel.” He looks beautiful with the glow of the fire dancing across his strong features.
“We should go to sleep,” he echoes your words, making no move to get up.
A cracking sound interrupts you both as you turn to the fire. A piece of wood had fallen, but it was no danger. You turn back to him, but he has already begun standing up, putting his hand out to help you. He pulls you up and you keep your gaze down, fixing your shirt and patting your thighs.
The night ritual moves without a word, not awkward but not as comfortable as before. Well, it moves smoothly until you both have your boots off, staring at the singular bed. Damn. You don’t know if you should curse or smile, so you hold back both and make your way under the covers.
He follows suit without a word.
-/-/-/-/-/
You’re half asleep when he grabs you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. You freeze. His breathing is even as you feel it on the back of your neck. He’s asleep. You would be lying if you said you didn’t like the way his warmth felt around you, his arms strong against your body. It’s comforting and exciting. But it’s not fair for you to use him like that, romantically, when he’s not even awake. He didn’t grab you on purpose, he’s just dreaming-probably of someone else.
You try to peel his arm from around you, and as you’re about to escape he pulls you in again, but now your shirt goes up and his hand is splayed across your stomach and you can't breathe with the way his fingers are burning against you. He nuzzles your neck, lips practically against your skin and you whimper. God, you think, this man is gonna be the death of me.
Now, with your options quickly dwindling, you try to slither out from under him rather than pushing, but you get stuck in an awkward position, with his hand having pulled up higher, his thumb under the middle of your bra and the rest of his hand right beneath your breast. So, you shimmy back up, grinding up against him in the process.
You hear the quietest moan, his sound now hot against your ear again, and it goes straight between your legs. You squish your thighs together, trying to stop the discomfort of being turned on but not touched. You have to wake him up. Your heart is beating so hard in your chest, you’re surprised he hasn’t woken up already.
“Joel,” you whisper, tugging at his sleeve. “Honey, you need to get up-“ and then you feel it pressing against your back. You quietly curse, trying not to think about him taking you then and there.
His arm drags down sluggishly, holding you more at your hips, slowly grinding up against the ass of your jeans. I wish there was nothing between us.
“Joel,” you shake him abruptly, frustrated. He practically jolts awake.
“Baby, what’s wrong-“ Then he freezes, realizing there is no danger, but there is a situation. Your heart swells at the pet name. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says, letting go quickly. A small whimper of disappointment leaves you before you have time to catch it, before he has time to move back. Your hand flies to your mouth. Someone shoot me now.
“I’m sorry,” you say back, not daring to turn around and face him. He doesn’t say anything. “I didn’t-I wasn’t.” You sigh. “It just felt nice, being held.” Your voice comes out factual, not betraying you.
He watches your frame so close to his and he’s almost relieved that you don’t hate him, but there’s a twinge of pain at your words. You didn’t want him that way. You were just human and had your needs like everyone else. But he would take what you would give him.
His hand settles on your hip first, then slowly dragging it back to where it had been wrapped around you. You sigh.
“Want me to stop, darlin?”
“No,” you say, squirming ever so slightly. He tries to will away his hard-on but you are not making this easy. You slowly move your hands to hold his arm, gently caressing it. He twitches in his jeans. Instinctually, you push back, making you both freeze.
“You helped me earlier,” you add, your voice barely audible in the silence of the night, unsure of your own words. “I can…I can help you, too.”
He almost cums at your words alone. You fasten your grip on his arm, using it as leverage to push your ass against him, eliciting a hushed moan from him.
“Fuck.” His words are right up against your ear, and the next moment his lips are pressing slow kisses to the side of your neck, soft and sweet. You turn over to face him. His hand moves to your hip, holding you in place. Your hands hover over the front of his jeans.
“Is this okay?” You ask. He hums in response. “I need a yes, Joel.” Your voice drips with teasing and he can’t help but damn near whimper at your sweet demand.
“Yes,” is all he can say, dazed by this entire thing. You palm him through his jeans and he stifles a moan, squeezing the plush of your ass. Pushing him onto his back, you lean over and kiss his neck, biting and licking your way to his collarbone. His breath hitches and he can’t help letting out little sounds of want. You unbutton jeans and his hand flies to there.
“-wait”
“What’s wrong?” Your eyes are so sincere when they look up to where he’s laying, searching for an answer. He wonders why you have to look like that, like you care in that way, like this wasn’t you just helping him because you felt you owed him something.
“What about you,” he leans up on his elbows. You sit on your knees, towering over him.
“What about me?”
“Don’t do this because you feel like you have to.”
“I’m not-”
“Or like you owe me, I don’t wanna make you-“ You swing your leg over his thighs, frustration and eagerness making you bold. You lean down, both palms strong against his chest.
“I want you to fuck me-Now, Joel,” you say, your voice getting low. “What do you want?”
Then, something snaps.
He flips you over, now between your thighs as he lays you down on the mattress. He’s so strong.
“Take them off,” he says, lust evident in his voice. You unbutton your jeans, shimmying them off. Your eyes flicker to him as he unbuttons his own, slithering the belt out. You chuckle.
“Right, because the buckle sound is gonna give us away and not you moaning loud as hell-“ He’s on you in a second, one hand caging in you against the bed, and the other dragging up your barren thighs, making your breath hitch. His eyes never leaving yours, his thumb moves to your panties, thumb rolling painfully slow on your clit. You throw your head against the pillow, surprised by the abrupt touch. You squirm.
“You always got some funny shit to say, don’t ya?” His voice is mocking as he continues to move slowly, your hips jerking ever so slightly to press harder against his hand. His eyes are dark, roaming from your face down to your heat. You’re so beautiful like this, unable to be still because of him, grinding up against him helplessly. He leans up to whisper against your ear. “Got anything to say now, darlin?” You mewl in arousal, biting your lip to keep sounds from escaping, not doing much of a good job. He smirks. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
He hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, dragging them down your legs. He tosses them aside, pulling the waistband of his own jeans and briefs down, revealing himself. From where you’re at, you’re trying to catch your breath, watching him pump his cock, swiping precum at the tip, shivering at his own touch. You want to absolutely destroy him with the way he’s looking. He looks at you and your tongue swipes across your lips in anticipation. Crawling to hover above you, you feel the weight of his dick on your thigh and it makes you breath heavy with eagerness. His fingers suddenly run through your folds, slick coating him. He groans.
“Fuck, baby. How long have been like this? You’re so wet.” He pumps two fingers into you, curling them immediately. Your hands fly to his collar, eyes shutting in pleasure.
“Hmm? How long?” His other hand holds your face, his thumb swiping against your cheek.
“Baby, please.”
He almost loses it right then, your voice whining with need as you call him baby, hoping you wouldn’t stop.
“I knew you had manners.” He pulls his fingers out, coating his dick with your juices. Pulling your knees up, he nestles between your thighs, running his member up and down your folds. “Just wish you were this nice all the time-“
“If you don’t shut the hell up and fuck me now, Joel-“
With a quick snap of his hips, he pushes inside you. He hisses against your neck and you gasp into his ear, cutting into a moan. It’s loud, and your eyes are screwed shut.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he say, but it feels like a sigh against your skin. He starts a pace that is almost bruising, his nails digging into your hips and the sting makes you throb. His length makes you feel so full and stretched out. Joel leans back to readjust his position, hiking your legs over your shoulders, keeping eye contact with you. You watch him with hungry eyes, preparing to hold back your moans the best you can.
“Sweetheart, you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
You blush, putting your arm over your eyes. It covers most of your face, but he can still see your pretty smile and he finds it too damn endearing.
“Shut up, Joel.”
A smile tugs on his face as he leans forward again.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Then he plunges into you and you pull at the pillow to keep quiet. You almost yelp every time he hits you in that exact spot, your body betraying your demands to keep quiet. He leans down and kisses you below your jaw, down your neck, and back up again. You wrap your arms around his neck, gripping him tightly.
You’re just a quench to a thirst. That’s all this is for him. You just happen to be the only thing here. And you bury your head in his chest, trying to force the thoughts away. His hand moves between you two, thumb rolling circles onto your clit, and you squirm, trying not to look at him. But he misses your pretty face.
“Baby, you okay?” He asks, pausing his action, but you refuse to be seen as weak, so you respond with fervor. You look up at him with darkened eyes. If he’s just using me, then I might as well take it for all its worth. You run your hands through his hair, tugging lightly at the roots. Joel moans in response and you kiss his throat, grazing your teeth over his skin and it makes him shiver. His hand returns to your core.
“Fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips with his every touch to your sensitive bud. “I’m close.”
“Me too, sweetheart,” he says through gritted teeth, watching as you come unwound. He feels you start to throb around him and he kisses your neck, whispering against the shell of your ear. “C’mon baby, give it to me. I know you can.”
You choke on your breath and your thighs shake as you pull him in deeper, the white hot feeling striking all your nerves all at once and you moan into his chest to stifle the sound.
“There ya go, darlin,” he coos at you.
He keeps fucking you, and you watch him, dazed with bliss. He’s so beautiful like this, vulnerable. His hips start to stutter, and against your better judgment, your soft hands grab his face and kiss his cheek, his neck, his collarbone and back up. It’s sweeter than it should be, more meaningful than you wanted to show. And it pushes him over the edge.
He pulls out at the last second, dick twitching as his hot cum hits your inner thighs and lower stomach, moaning sweet nothings into the crook of your neck.
After moments of heavy breathing, brushing your fingers through his hair, practically petting him, he gets up, pulling up his jeans. He hands you your underwear.
“I’ll find a rag.”
For the few seconds that he’s gone, you look up at the ceiling. He made you feel so good. So, why do you have an empty pit in your stomach now? You fiddle with the bottom of your shirt. He didn’t kiss you on the lips, not even once. And you wonder if it would have hurt more if he had kissed you, knowing that he didn’t want you the same way you did. Sure, he trusted you, and he tolerated you, but it would never be more than a partnership. Just a means to an end.
He walks back in, holding his breath with a tight smile as he goes to wipe you off.
“I got it, thank you.” You grab the rag and sit up to the other side of the bed, wiping yourself off before bringing up your panties and jeans, buttoning them. You sigh.
Oh god, she regrets it. His chest tightens as he watches your silhouette.
“Look, it wasn’t-if I made it seem-”
You straighten up, clenching your jaw. You better not cry damnit.
“Joel, I’m good. Just tired now.” You turn to him and give him a curt smile, crawling back into bed. He sighs, mirroring your actions, facing the opposite way. He looks back at you and sees you hugging yourself, shrinking yourself smaller on your side of the bed. He wants to reach out and hold you, make you feel better, like he never hurt you at all. He wants to ask you exactly what he did wrong and make it right in every way he can, to make you feel safe with him again.
You said you would take whatever she would give you. Why did you have to take it all?
<3 all reblogs and comments are appreciated! Have a lovely day:)
Genuinely 100% do not mean this in a rude way, but as someone from Appalachia, I somehow feel required to point out that joel and ellie are clear on the other side of the country from these mountains and we don't particularly have a thing about demons (just a shit ton of ghost stories) I'm really really really sorry if that came of as rude
Haii Nonnie! And this was so kind so don’t even worry about it!
1. AHDKAJDJ I was reading about the east coast and I guess in my head I never switched the name out of my head?? Lmao i was just trying to get them to spook Ellie a bit for funzies- pero I’m so happy you let me know!!!
2. Omg thank you for reading my stuff!!! AHH like I said this is my first time writing fanfic so this is all kinda new to me, but it honestly makes me happy that you took the time to let me know!!
3. Hope you still enjoyed this chapter and feel free to tell me stuff like this-im always open to suggestions/criticisms/compliments lol
And lastly
4. send me your fave ghost story from where you’re from:) if you’d like🫶🏼
