Pairing: Frankie Morales x white fem!reader (let’s be real I was having a tough time when I wrote this so she’s me😅😂)
Rating: M | 18+
Word Count: 1288
Summary: Just a lazy Sunday with Frankie and his girl
A/N: hi babies, it’s been forever since I’ve written or posted anything and honestly even this small drabble took me about three months😅 I appreciate everyone who takes the time to read this sweet little thing and I love you all very much. Pretty please let me know what you think. Also as always apologies if the formatting is weird! Enjoy my loves💕✨
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“C’mon pretty lady, time to get up.” he smiles and she whines while he walks his fingers up her arm. He leans down to kiss her shoulder. His lips rest there and he looks at her for a moment before he opens his mouth and bites down softly. She says something that’s muffled by the pillow and swats at his head. He smiles when she turns her head to look at him. Her hair’s a mess and she huffs out a breath. He looks at her for a second then leans in to kiss her lightly. He kisses her nose as he pulls away. “Let’s go, dance time.”
Otis Redding’s These Arms of Mine flows through the speakers in the bedroom as they sway. He holds her close, his hands splayed gently against her back. He peppers soft kisses along her shoulder and on her neck as he squeezes her tighter against him. She smells like his bed. His old t-shirt hangs down to the middle of her thighs. Her hands are in his hair, scratching against his scalp. Her face tucked into the curve of his neck. He’s solid and warm, wrapped around her. She feels safe. She always has with him but something is different when he’s surrounding her like this. Covering her up, stealing her away to a place where it’s only them.
There’s breakfast waiting on the kitchen table as they enter from the hall. She rubs her eye while she trails behind him. He’s got a loose grip on her hand that tightens when he brings her around to the front of him. He stops her in front of the table. A strong arm wraps around her torso and he kisses her temple.
An array of breakfast foods cover the small wooden table and she can’t help but break out in a smile. Waffles with berries and whipped cream, bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, coffee, and about three different kinds of fruit juice.
“Happy Sunday babydoll.” He says and releases her to pull out her chair.
They sit and eat together while the sun rays move through the kitchen windows. He holds her hand across the table and leans down to kiss the top of it. He calls her beautiful and she scoffs back at him, feeling heat creep into her face.
“Bullshit. Tell me what you really see.” He runs his thumb along her knuckles.
“I see you.”
He brings her into the bathroom after breakfast. Slowly peels the shirt from her body and tosses it on the floor. He slips off his own clothes and turns the shower on before pulling her against him. He hums and trails his fingers up and down her back as the space around them fills with warm steam. He just looks at her for a moment. His eyes move from her lips up to her eyes and back again. He kisses her gently and pulls the hair tie from her hair, letting it fall around her bare shoulders.
He holds her close under the hot water. She lays her head against his chest. Swears to herself she could fall back asleep like this, listening to the beat of his heart. Feeling his breathing. There’s no sound but the running water around them. They don’t speak, hands drifting along courses of each other’s bodies.
He washes her hair, her body feels like jello as he moves his fingers against her scalp. She feels him laugh lightly behind her as she melts into him. Warm lips press to her shoulder. He holds her like this for a few moments before turning her around. His lips meet hers when he moves her back under the water to rinse out the soap.
She feels overwhelmed suddenly when he’s drying her off in the bedroom. Tears fill her eyes and a small gasp leaves her throat. He’s so gentle with her. Like she’ll break if he moves too fast. He meets her eyes as he stands and leans his forehead against hers. Slides his thumb down her cheek as he says her name and tells he loves her. She nods, sniffles. Her fingers wrap around his wrist and squeeze.
“I love you too, Frankie.”
He makes love to her. A light breeze flows through their bedroom windows as his lips ghost over her knee. Soft cries leave her chest, her leg resting over his shoulder. He’s so close to her and so deep inside her. She says his name like a prayer. Getting caught up in the syllables. He cages her in below him, moving to wrap her legs around his waist. He swallows her sweet sounds with a kiss, his tongue sliding against her own. He tells her how good she feels around his cock. How warm and tight she is. She can’t talk now. Her mouth hangs open. Nails dig into his forearms that are planted on either side of her head. Small whimpers and breathy moans fill the room as his hips start to stutter. She comes first with a sharp gasp, body trembling. She tries to hide her face into the pillow but he nuzzles his nose against her jaw. Kisses her deeply as he comes inside her. His hips slow and his body falls against hers. Her legs slip from his sides. They lay like this for a while. Breathing each other in. Gentle kisses pass between them as the heat leaves the room and the breeze returns.
She tells him he’s gotten scruffy. It’s past noon, they're still in bed. His head rests against her chest. She strokes his face gently, scratching at his beard. She feels him huff out a light laugh.
“You want me to shave it off?” He mumbles. He presses his lips to her skin. Brushes his fingers along the curve of her breast.
“Never.” She shakes her head and he looks up at her. Studies her features like he’s afraid of forgetting them. He pulls himself up to lay beside her. Brushes his nose against hers as their eyes fall shut.
“Querida..” There’s a slight rasp to his voice that she’ll never get enough of. One that still makes her squirm just a little. She hums lightly in response. He kisses her. It’s deep and she nearly loses her breath. He pulls her flush against him, his hands have a strong grip on her waist. A small squeak leaves her when he pulls away. The smile he gives her makes her giggle and hide her face in his neck. He smells like the forest and cinnamon and something so uniquely him. Her Frankie. Calloused fingers find the spot behind her ear. He strokes the soft bit of skin there. They would both happily stay in this moment for as long as they could. Touching like this. Loving like this.
Her stomach growls. He feels her pout against his neck. He chuckles a little. Leaves a kiss on her shoulder.
“Lunch?” He asks. Another kiss. She lets out a sigh against his neck and a small muffled sound of protest. He squeezes her hip and smiles to himself. He still thinks he doesn’t deserve her. Wonders what she sees. What she feels. How she can love him so much. He gives her a small pinch and she squirms. He laughs softly and his lips meet her skin once more. They rest there for a few moments. He sighs, fingers drifting to her neck. He can feel her pulse against his hand. There’s a mumble against his neck. He chuckles.
“What?” His voice is soft against her hair. She pulls back a little. He smiles at her, brushes his nose against hers. She answers quite softly.
“What are you making?”
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Tagging a few lovelies, if I forgot anyone I’m sorry!!
Pairing: Porn Star!Dieter Bravo x Barista!Fem!Reader
Content Warnings: Curses, very very short sex scene, descriptions of insecurities, masturbation, sex dream.
Summary: Dieter contemplates the meaning of life during a day at work and answers some emails. You offer a cafe patron a corner brownie.
Word Count: 2.3k
Author’s Note: Coming back to this fic after a literal year of nothing I am so sorry to you all and kisses to those who have no left me in this dry spell lmao. Note is that Dieter Bravo is only this character’s stage name, his real name is Dexter and he will be addressed as such through the story! Big thank you to @thesadvampire and my lovely boyfriend for reading this and giving me your advice. Love yall <3
*Reblog with tags in the morning*
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“What’s up your ass this morning?”
Dieter didn’t bother to look up from his phone to answer his assistant’s prodding.
“Was that a rhetorical question or are you just curious?”
She looks over his shoulder, just barely catching the tail-end of an email before the screen goes black. He meets her eyes with a frown but she doesn’t back down, she never did with him. After being his assistant for who knows how many years, she had gotten more than used to his dramatics.
“You seem..twitchy, lately.” She sets her hands on her hips like a scolding mother. “You didn’t take anything, did you?”
pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader
series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.
word count: 2k
chapter summary: if you were wondering how Joel took his spicy picture for Asha, this is how.
warnings: male masturbation, use of a mirror, nipple play, spitting, very explicit, a tad bit of joel putting himself down, you're not there physically but you're definitely there in spirit, brief thoughts of rimming, lil bit of self ass play
a/n: this is a little gift for all of you guys who love SIB, and it's also an apology because it looks like I won't be able to get the new chapter out this week but believe me, I'm working on it 🧡 This takes place between chapters four and five, if you don't mind getting spoiled feel free to read. and yes those are pedro's hands in the moodboard jfc look at those veins
“Do you like it?”
Joel looks down, a bit shocked, but not unpleasantly. Between his fingers, he holds a photo of Asha, naked as the day she was born. Her lean hand covers her sex, leaving it to his imagination and her breasts were glistening—he presumes she used an ointment of some kind— and her nipples were hard, indicating that she played with herself before taking the picture.
His cock twitches and he swallows thickly around the knot forming in his throat.
“ ‘Course I do,” he groans, shifting on the bed. “And you want me to take one too?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t but I ain’t as pretty as you are.”
With a grin, Asha traces a hand above the expense of his bare chest, the tips of her fingers dipping over his sternum.
“You’re prettier than you think.”
Joel stares at the window, his jaw tight and fingers tense around the small shot glass that he holds. A breeze comes through the window and rustles the curtains. He can hear crickets. With a deep sigh, he throws back his head and swallows the amber fluid. It burns as it goes down.
He closes the windows, then the curtains. He’s hoping the liquid courage would take its effect soon. The bottom of the glass hits the bedside table and he falls to the bed, staring begrudgingly at the camera. He decided to place the tripod right in front of the mirror, which now he realizes wasn’t a good idea. He’s not that thrilled in seeing himself being so unsure. He drags his palm down his face, eyes falling to the drawer where Asha’s picture lays. He’s still not sure why she asked for it—well, he knows why, he just doesn’t understand why him.
Joel’s aware he’s not the worst looking out here, he’s definitely caught your gaze once or twice lingering on him whenever he’s out fixing the truck. And Asha surely seems to be infatuated with him. But that had only happened now. Not when he was young. Not when he was attending high school and working full shifts to take care of Tommy. And when people did approach him, it was mostly to get closer to The Tommy Miller—his younger brother was always the one with the charm and charisma.
Suddenly Joel’s heart feels lighter, hints of joy warming his chest. Asha wants that picture. She wants to see him, wants to keep him close.
Licking his lips, he walks up to the camera and adjusts the timer. His mind wanders to the moment he shared with you at the bar. He’d acted impulsively, kissing your cheek like that. The only thing granting him relief was the fact that it seemed nothing more but a friendly gesture from the outside.
It sure as hell hadn’t felt friendly from the inside. It felt more than that.
Before pressing the shutter, he sits back down on the bed. The old furniture creaking with protest. He peels off his shirt, throws it to the floor. He thinks about what kind of pose to do, and about how naked he should be. He’s not that comfortable showing his dick. He’s not that comfortable showing his face either—so what the hell is he supposed to do?
He cups his cock and rubs his palm through the denim. An immediate burst of heat rolls up his spine, his dick twitching with need. He breathes out a soft exhale and repeats the movement. Grinding his palm against his growing erection.
Oh, that definitely feels nice.
A smile tugs at his lips and his pulse quickens. Without much thought, he swipes his thumb over a nipple. A hiss elevates from the back of his throat, his hips stuttering into the air. With a sudden desperation, he unbuckles his belt and cheats his hand down his jeans. He’s rough with himself. Grabbing his cock and tugging at the head until he’s hard and dripping. Joel sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, the pain also adding to the heat growing between his legs.
“This should be good,” he murmurs, walking back up to the camera. He clicks the shuffle and stumbles back, he tries to strike something similar to a pose. He stretches a bit, sucks in his stomach, and decides to leave his hand lingering down his pants.
His chest heaves, but he’s excited when he hears the click. He’s genuinely surprised at how aroused he is, thick drops of precum heavy over his knuckles.
Joel had never considered himself to be a kinky person. As far as he knew, he was into the same things as most guys his age. But maybe he had more going on in this thick noggin of his than he thought.
Joel definitely doesn’t mind the camera now.
The picture pops out and he yanks it away from the device. He wags it in the air a bit, a form of a body slowly appearing on glossy paper. He takes a good look at himself. Half of his face is out of frame, which pleases him. There’s a slight blur to the background that he kinda likes. Thanks to the way his hand is hidden underneath the front of his jeans, his forearm looks quite nice and strong.
With a pleased smile, he places it between the pages of a magazine. Then he allows himself to fall back to the bed, his legs hanging off the side. Joel grunts as he kicks off his jeans, not wanting to feel restricted anymore. It’s not often he’s alone in the house. He plans on taking advantage of it.
He pulls a pillow down to where his head is, getting comfortable, he glances at himself through the mirror. A flush darkens his cheeks. He never watched himself before. Never saw the faces he makes. Some part of him wants to ignore the sudden interest and just take care of his…situation, but the other part of him wants to experiment. It almost feels like someone is watching him.
He remembers seeing a mirror in your house. Have you ever indulged in this way? Get naked in front of the mirror and fuck yourself with a toy that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as his cock could be?
I’m fucking losing it, he thinks. But he can’t stop thinking about it now.
Joel's hand moves down to his cock, his fingertips brushing over the sensitive head. His breathing becomes shallow as he starts to stroke himself, the soft moans escaping his lips filling the quiet room. He closes his eyes and imagines you there with him, your fingers tracing along his body, your lips pressing against his skin.
His fingers trail down his chest, gliding over the curves of his nipples, each touch sends a shiver, his tighs going taut and stiff. His eyes flicker to the mirror, he catches a glimpse of himself - naked, a flush of pink creeping up from his chest to his neck.
He hesitates, wondering what he's doing, and why he's doing it. But then he remembers you, the way you looked at him at the bar, the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, the way you leaned in close when you spoke. Your scent; a sharp inhale of blooming flowers mixed with the suffocating scent of the paint that you use. You’re a ghostly presence, something that’s always with him, but not in the way that he wants.
Joel squeezes his cock and moves up his hand, swiping the head with the flat of his palm. He wants everything to be wet, messy, and tight. With a sudden impulse, he pushes his upper body off the bed and goes to spit on his cock. A soft tremor burrows in his stomach. A rather indulgent moan coming alive in the back of his throat.
Pursing his lips, he spits again, the wetness instantly being spread out with his hand. He watches the way his cock glistens through the mirror. Joel wants to believe it’s your slick instead, making him warm and wet. You’d be so eager to take him, so needy for him to fuck you. His teeth sink into the inside of his cheek. He’d make you beg a bit for it first. Joel would want to hear your voice getting high and squeaky, but he wouldn’t let the game go on for too long. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s not appreciative of you and your perfect pussy.
His strokes speed up, wet sounds getting louder. Joel allows his imagination to run wild. A string of sultry images flashes in his mind.
You, on your knees, struggling to take his cock down your throat.
You, bent over, asscheeks spread, begging him to fill you up.
You, asking for him to fuck you harder, faster.
And him, eager to follow every command.
Fuck, and you’d look so good too. Moaning his name, soaking his cock and fingers. He licks his lips, imagining how you would taste like. Something sweet, he bets, sweet and maybe a bit bitter. Just like you.
Jerking himself, a visceral whine crawls out of his throat. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment and he swears he can feel you. Your weight, your heat—all of it crashing down on him and bringing him near the peak. He loosens his grip, traces the throbbing vein that curls around his cock with the blunt of his nail. With a shallow breath, he slips his fingers lower.
Joel’s mouth floods when he cups his balls, rolling them in his palm, he gives them a gentle tug. The coil in his stomach tightens, a tremble overwhelming him. With his tongue between his lips, his fingers brush the skin right underneath. His eyes snap wide open, liquid, molten, lava-like pleasure boils his veins—he gasps and his hips stutter into the air, his dick painfully hard, drips over his stomach.
His hand dips further down his legs. Very gently, Joel circles the puckered hole with the pad of his middle finger but doesn’t dare to go further. He never has. This is as far as he’s gone, discovering that the little tease was enough to get him riled up at a young age. He imagines your tongue teasing over the hole instead of his finger.
“Fuck.”
His own voice sounds estranged to him. It sounds so deep, and raspy. Like he’s been sick for days. A shudder overwhelms him when he wraps his calloused fingers around his cock once more. He’s so fucking close. His breathing comes in short, shallow pants, the head of his cock a dark red. He fuck himself into his fist harder, faster, tightens the gap, thinking that it’s you.
His eyes move back to the mirror, his other hand teasing at his nipples, pulling and twisting them until he moans out loud. The sight of himself, of his own arousal, is a heady aphrodisiac. He’s wrecked. It never felt this good before. There’s a buzz in his veins, an itch that can’t be scratched. His cock is drooling all over himself. His breath catches in his throat—He’s about to—shitshitshit—
Joel fixes his gaze on his reflection; he looks so out of it, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess and eyes glazed over. Fuck, he’s starting to understand now what Asha meant by calling him pretty.
A long whine leaves his lips as the first string of pearly white cum splashes over his stomach. It’s followed by another one, and then another. His eyes roll back into his skull. He feels it on his chest, stomach, knuckles….a growl rattles in his chest. Pleasure rakes his body from his toes to his head. He strokes himself harder, loosening and tightening his grip around his cock to mimic the feel of your fluttering cunt might be. Joel’s eyes flutter closed, heavy pants leaving his lips. He feels dizzy, disoriented.
When he opens his eyes again, he smooths his hand over his stomach, spreading the stickiness all over his sweaty skin. He cheats another glance at the mirror.
God, he wishes you were here to clean him up.
I hope you guys enjoyed this little interlude ♡ I do realize that some parts of this might be a bit out of character for Joel but I just love thinking of him as someone who always wanted to experiment more but just never had a chance to do so, a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. He's just looking for that person he can trust to have some fun with 🤭 I also think of him being a bit self coincidence which we will be seeing more of in the future.
Wishing everyone an amazing weekend, new chapter will be coming soon!
Joel Miller x f!Reader
The Last of Us
6.6k Words/ 3rd POV
Feral Reader Masterlist
Summary: She never paid attention to the newcomers when they joined Jackson until one of them begins to get close to Joel.
Warning: Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Violence. Sexual Content. 18+ Minors DNI
She didn’t care when Jackson got new people. She wasn’t one of the regulars that crowded around the entrance, watching patrol bring them through, so similar to how they joined. No, she didn’t care because the rest of Jackson didn’t matter, just the two people she currently lived with.
If it didn’t have to do with Joel and Ellie, she didn’t care.
So it was at least a month before she met Harper, when she was added to their patrol duty.
i see a prompt request 👀 what about “stop trying to help me it’s just hurting you” with feral reader… maybe joel is the one helping her with the adjustment to settlement life in wyoming? or they’re out on a run and she gets hurt? anything tbh you decide
Yesssss I am all for this one. I had some downtime and managed to write this so fast. So have some angst and maybe some lore and both of them fighting lol
Left Behind
Joel Miller x f!Reader/OFC
The Last of Us
2.5k Words (3rd POV)
(Lots of callbacks to Monsters but not necessary to read first. Feral Reader's name is used sparingly so yes, she's technically more an OFC as you get lore in this one)
Summary: Settling into life in Jackson wasn't going so easily and Joel is hit with the possibility she may not be welcomed to stay.
“Joel, she’s trouble, man,” Tommy ran a hand through his hand exasperatedly, pacing the hard packed ground in front of both their homes, “I know shit was rough out there. Hell, the three of you were practically hissing at everyone when you came through that first time, but it’s been a couple months. She’s scaring half the town and you’re scaring the other half acting like her goddamn guard dog.”
The older Miller brother clenched his jaw, hands on his hips and trying not to show how much his split open knuckles smarted, “I wouldn’t have to if those assholes would stop treating her like a fucking pariah or giving her shit every time she tries to stand up for herself.”
“You have got to admit it’s not exactly like she’s giving them much reason not to act that way,” Tommy sighed and spread his hands pleadingly, “She threatened to stab Johnny at the lumberyard through his hand for looking at her weird, not to mention I’ve already had to take her off patrol duty with anyone but you after she beat Grant-”
“That boy learned the hard way to keep his hands to himself,” Joel cut him off.
Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, before glancing back at his house where his very pregnant wife currently was, “Brother, I can’t have her acting this way. I get it’s not perfect here, but we can’t have trouble like this. Maria…she’s already considering that if Red doesn't get her shit together she may not be welcome to stay.”
Silence fell between the two, boiling and tense. He didn’t have to even look up to know the look on his older brother’s face at his words, could feel it as if flames were on his skin. It was like lighting a match around gasoline, waiting for the whole thing to ignite. He knew that as much as his brother cared about the young girl in his charge, he also cared about the woman that came along with them. And when Joel Miller cared about something, he’d go through hell for them.
“That’s not gonna happen,” Joel bit out harshly, snarling. His irises had darkened to almost black, the hints of hazel swallowed almost entirely. His body was tight, a wire begging to snap.
But the younger of the two could only shake his head, feeling lost and unable to comprehend what to do. Torn between the home he had helped create and protect, his wife who had the weight of the community on her shoulders while preparing to give birth to his first kid, and his brother’s protectiveness over the rough woman currently inside the house. “Just get it sorted. Talk to her. My hands are tied, I can only do so much,” Tommy sighed, turning and heading back across the lot to his own home and life.
Joel didn’t watch him leave. His eyes were trained on the ground, blood roaring in his ears as he replayed the words over and over again. They were considering kicking Red out. He’d dragged her all over the country, to Wyoming then Colorado and Salt Lake and back to Jackson, forcing her to settle down only for her to get kicked out.
He knew she was having a hard time. She’d never stayed in a QZ, had stayed out in the world too long alone or with the wrong people and didn’t know how to deal with a community like this. Normal people who didn’t have to tear each other apart for scraps. While he and Ellie didn’t have the smoothest transition and were still rough around the edges, they’d managed while the woman had hit wall after wall.
She was defensive, quick to react and bare her teeth. It was fine out beyond the gates but inside Jackson where everyone was trying to find a new normal it had caused issues.
One of the steel workers was Grant’s brother and hadn’t taken kindly to her beating the shit out of him. He had refused to give her some parts they needed for the house and then called her a bitch when she’d slapped his payment down and went to snatch the items. But he hadn’t registered Joel around the corner listening and before they all knew it his fist was flying into the man’s face.
He’d have done more if Tommy hadn’t broken them up.
But his brother was right and she did have a reputation, had scared a lot more than half the town. He’d seen the way mothers had pulled their kids away or the looks some of the guardsmen gave her. Ellie had told off more than a few, shouting across the plaza when she’d catch it, defensive. He’d watched Red shrink in the settlement, only fully confident like she usually was outside of Jackson.
He’d figure it out. He had to.
With a deep sigh, he turned and went inside. Ellie had been sent to take care of the errands and get the groceries they both knew Red wouldn’t be able to get. The teenager was understanding and was doing the best she could to help, keeping any complaints to herself or to him when they were alone to not burden the woman. She was as protective of her as he was of both of them.
The house was quiet. It was all something he was still getting used to. Having a house again, a home where he didn’t have to worry about getting attacked or FEDRA raids, no more furniture salvaged from garbage dumps and pipes that rattled without a drop of hot water. Jackson made it easy to get comfortable, to feel like it was before the world was ravaged.
Easy for him at least.
He paused and waited a moment, hearing the almost imperceptible sound of breathing on his good side before he rounded the kitchen counter and looked down.
Red sat on the tiled floor, knees pulled up to her chest, head resting back against the cabinet doors. Her face was blank but he’d learned to read the small hints of thoughts on her face. Lips pressed tight, eyes focusing on her nails even as he hovered. She’d heard. He knew she had.
“Should I start packing my bag now or wait for Maria to give me the word?” she chewed on her lip, feigning nonchalance.
“Neither. You ain’t going nowhere,” Joel bit out with a furrowed brow.
She laughed humorlessly, mouth turning into a grimace, “That’s not up to you, Tex.” Those eyes looked up finally, met his, and he could see the resignation there. This wasn’t something she was going to fight if they made her leave. She’d do it and he knew why, knew it was for them, but refused to accept it.
“Like hell it ain’t.”
“Stop,” abruptly getting to her feet, she hissed at him, “Just stop it. Stop trying to help me. It’s only hurting you and Ellie. You have actual family here, Joel. Flesh and blood family. You could murder someone and they’d still keep you here and Ellie as well, but I’m a liability. To you, to her, to all of them. I get it.”
“I don’t give a fuck if you get it, Red,” Joel was angry, getting into her face, “They’re not kicking you out. End of conversation.”
“Not end of fucking conversation,” she growled, “I’m not risking yours and Ellie’s only chance at a safe, stable life. If that means I go back out there then so be it.”
“God, you’re so fuckin’ stubborn sometimes,” he all but yelled through his teeth.
A laugh tore from her, sharp and loud, her brow raised, “Oh that’s hilarious coming from you.”
He wanted to beat his fist through the fucking wall, pick up a glass and shatter it if only to release some of the frustration dealing with her gave him. That damn martyrdom that he hadn’t ever been able to get rid of, scream out of her no matter how many times he told her to stop it. She was so willing to throw herself away for his or Ellie’s sake as if what happened to her didn’t matter and it drove him insane every single time.
“You better quit that shit,” Joel ground out between clenched teeth, “That stupid fucking selfless bullshit. For what? As punishment because you lost some people? That…fucking Harry you were with?”
He hadn’t ever brought up the name she had mentioned once because he knew what it was like for someone to bring up the past. She hadn’t offered much of her background and he never asked, but there had been small moments. That name had stuck in his brain though, like the little stars tattooed on her collarbone and the “love ya” on her skin in someone else’s handwriting.
The silence following his words were deafening, all emotion wiped off her face. It was as if someone had scrubbed away anything that made her a person, human, in seconds.
Then something darker took over and twisted and she smiled, a showing of teeth, and eyes so hollow they seemed like caverns, “Is that what you think? That I’m punishing myself over some boyfriend that died when the world fell apart as if most of the fucking population didn’t also die too? That I’m what? A sad little heartbroken girl pining over some lost love?” A laugh left her lips and it felt like poison, dripping venom.
He clenched his fist, anger burning hot, but he knew better than to say anything or approach her when she was like this. Dangerous. Sometimes she was so dangerous he wondered how he had ever thought it was safe to turn his back on her.
“That’s real sweet, Tex…I shot him, you know?” she laughed again, not a bit of humor on her face, “Not because he was infected. No. He wasn’t even bit, didn’t have a scratch on him. He was fully alive and healthy before I blew his face right off.”
She’d mentioned the man’s name long ago on the road when they’d gotten drunk out. It had slipped out of her covered in pain and regret, Harry and her younger sister, how she'd been barely starting her life when the apocalypse hit. A singer. Ellie had mentioned she had been trying to be a singer and he’d always pictured a bright eyed girl unprepared for what was to come. He had wondered if that death had been what had broken her, guttered her and tore out her soul to the point she lived on instinct only, how that girl had become the hissing creature before him.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Stepping closer to him, he resisted the urge to back away, to show that he was like the rest of them and scared of her too. She almost smiled wider and he knew she was expecting him to, a test almost, “You see we were on a run. Harry, me, and Annie. Spooked some runners so we booked it out of the building because back then I wasn’t much of a fighter, hadn’t learned yet. So I trusted him to keep us safe. Yet, lo and behold, when we get through the front door and I turn around, I see him.”
Her words were made of broken glass that cut her apart and made her mouth bleed, devastation and rage coating each one but he didn’t move or try to comfort her lest he got cut too, “Harry had shoved my sister behind so he could get through first then shut the door in her face. I watched them through the glass tear her apart, screaming my name, because I had trusted him to have her back. Instead he got her killed. So I killed him.”
There was no smile then.
He remembers how they met. Ellie had fallen behind while running from scavengers because he hadn’t put her in front of him. It had been Red who had saved her and like a missing puzzle piece, he could see the picture come together. Knowing her now and how it wasn’t normal for her to go out of her way to help strangers, but she’d helped them.
Because Annie had fallen behind once before and she couldn’t save her. Blamed herself for her death.
“It was my fault and I’ll be damned if I ruin both of your chances at staying here where you are safer. Not because of me,” the snarl had left her face, hackles dropping until just the woman was left. Exhausted and a little sad and lost. It’d broken her, he knew that. In the same way Sarah’s death had left him a shell. But he’d kept going for Tommy, Tess, and eventually Ellie.
She hadn’t had anyone until them and now she thought she was putting them at risk.
Joel frowned and stepped forward, their chests almost pressed together, before cupping her face between his hands. His knuckles were bruised and bloody still, but neither of them cared, had never cared about getting blood on the other, “I hate to break it to you, darlin’, but if you think after that I’d still let you go then you’re wrong. I learned my lesson last time we were in Jackson. We stick together. No one’s getting left behind.”
Her eyes squeezed shut, a broken sigh leaving her lips. Her hands came up and gripped his waist, fingers wrapping around his belt tightly like he was a lifeline. Resignation wrapped her entirely in its embrace and he knew the fight had gone out of her, “I…I don’t know how to be around these people. There’s too many of them and they all stare…I’m going to mess up.”
The admission brought a slight smile to his lips, a crack in the defense she had attempted to put between them and a sign that she was giving in, “Well I think as long as you don’t try to maul or kill anyone and maybe limit to punching one or two people a month, that’ll be good enough.”
She huffed exasperatedly, head falling forward and leaning against his chest. His thumb traced her cheek, the other combing through the tangled mess that was her hair. For all she used to gripe at Ellie for taking care of her own, she wasn’t much better. But the strands were still soft and he took advantage of it when he could, feeling her relax against him.
“I’ll talk to Tommy and Maria. You just give yourself time to adjust and try,” Joel murmured, “We’ll figure it out, but you’re not going anywhere.” She nodded against him and at last wrapped her arms fully around his body, sinking into him while he held her tightly back. They both stayed there for a while, arms tight, standing in the middle of the kitchen.
Joel would pull every string, get every ounce of leverage he could get to ensure she stayed. No one was going to take her away from them.
okay am actually obsessed with feral reader & i saw you’re taking prompts/requests!! so how would feral reader react to joel being injured 👀 either while on patrol in wyoming or on their journey there w ellie
Aww thank you!! I'm so happy people have taken to her! And yesssss I'd had something along this line roughly in my head so I'm definitely down with this prompt!
Beast
Joel Miller x fem!reader
The Last of Us (Show/Game)
2.3k Words
Warning: Gore, violence! Really putting the feral in Feral Reader lol
Later, she’d tear herself apart because they knew better. They knew to stay in pairs, knew to still be cautious, knew to not be so casual about the trips to the outskirt cities during patrols.
It didn’t matter how long they’d been at Jackson, they knew what life was like outside the walls and it wasn’t something they could be nonchalant about. Complacency led to death and Jackson gave you a taste of that life. Life before a monstrous fungus destroyed everything.
They were paying for that delusion now.
She grit her teeth at the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of Joel’s growl of pain and anger coming from around the corner where she was hiding. Something had felt off and she’d come back only to find he had been ambushed, wrist shackled to a pipe low to the ground and cut on his forehead bleeding down into his eye. The bruise blossoming on his cheek told her he’d already taken a few punches.
From her hiding spot, she could see there were two guys in the room with him. One crouched down holding a knife close to Joel, blood smeared across his face from a busted lip and black eye already forming. The other was standing closest to her, watching what was unfolding with a pistol hanging loosely in his hand.
She almost snarled at the site of the blood spreading from Joel’s side, turning her favorite denim shirt dark red from some injury she couldn’t fully see. He was as angry as she was, brow heavy and glaring up at the two with a sneer. It was a stare that had promised violence, had signed death warrants and delivered it.
They’d hurt him. They’d hurt Joel.
It wasn’t an impossible thing. He was human. She’d seen them get into fights before, but this time they’d cornered him and there was no Ellie barrier. No leash that told her to be quick and efficient and not freak the kid out. No second focus for her. No one besides Joel to protect.
All she could feel was rage because they’d hurt one of her people and were enjoying it, grins on their faces and chuckles leaving their throats. Her hackles raised, teeth grit together to the point her jaw hurt, as her hand gripped the bow she’d brought.
They had planned to hunt. Got tired of dinner experiments and attempts to cook so they were going back to what they knew. Hunting wasn’t entirely off the table, just a different kind of prey was the target.
She’d have to move fast. Move before the one closest to Joel could hurt him, move before they could react and shoot either of them. She didn’t have the same brutal strength her partner did but she was quick and quiet and that was all she needed.
Taking a deep breath, she swiveled around the corner and drew the bowstring back taut, feeling it almost kiss her cheek before releasing with a quiet swish. It was fast and at close range the arrow hit home hard and brutally into the back of the guy closest to her’s skull.
A choked gasp left his throat from the impact then he was sliding to his knees, crumpling and drawing the other’s attention. Even in the chaos she could see Joel’s eyes flick over, take her in as she ran in a dead sprint towards the one crouched by him. He was still kneeling, knife in hand, but he was slow to react. In the back of her mind, she wondered how these men could have gotten the jump on him. Maybe all the jokes about him getting older were starting to ring true, her complaints about settlement life making them complacent coming back to haunt them.
Domesticated. They’d been domesticated and for some reason that pissed her off more.
The stranger hadn’t managed to get off the ground fast enough and instead was the perfect height for her to get the bow around his neck and yank him hard into her knee. He choked and wheezed, arms flailing as she growled and pulled. She pulled with all her strength, using her arm strength to keep the bow as tight against his windpipe as she could while her knee pushed him harder and harder into it.
Ellie had asked once if they had ever snapped anyone’s necks. Like in the movies where they simply yank the goon’s head slightly in the other direction and it cracks, easy peasy. She’d told her it wasn’t that easy. Spines and necks are actually a lot tougher, can take a lot of strain and usually need a lot of pressure to break.
Right now she wished it was that simple. Wanted to see how much pressure she could drive into his spine before that crack would reach her ears. The guy finally stopped flailing in panic and decided to use the knife still in his hand, stabbing wildly over his shoulder in an attempt to reach her and get her off him.
Joel was bucking and yanking at the cuffs, yelling as he attempted to get free or reach them to help. His hand was turning purple from the pressure and the blood in his side was spreading even more. She wanted to tell him to quit it, to think and focus because he was only hurting himself.
Both her hands were starting to hurt from the strain of pulling the bow and he wasn’t going down. With a hiss, the knife managed to skim her shoulder, slicing through her shirt sleeve. It was a gamble but she couldn’t keep it up, was going to exhaust herself before the guy would be out. When the stranger went to stab her again, she dropped the bow abruptly and grabbed his arm, wrenching it far back and ripping the knife from his grip as he screamed in pain.
The knife found its home soon after, stabbed into the side of his head, cutting off the sound of his strained gasps.
Jerking it back out, she took deep breaths while holding the knife, panting and watching the body collapse at her feet. There was silence for a bit, the slight clinking of the cuffs rattling against the pipes all she could hear for a second and adrenaline shooting through her veins. She enjoyed that silent moment after the fight was over where all she could hear was the sound of her heartbeat and lungs expanding and collapsing.
It was the sound of still being alive.
Joel’s eyes found hers and she relaxed a bit, seeing the way they burned. Either from want, gratefulness, wonder, she wasn’t sure. But never fear or disgust and that’s all she cared about. He was safe, they were alive, the people were dead.
And maybe that small moment with him was what distracted her right before a third attacker came barreling in, tackling her to the ground.
The man was big and angry and screaming in her face. The tackle had put her at a disadvantage, shoving her onto her back with her arms pinned between their bodies along with the knife. She couldn’t get her harms free or make any room to get leverage against him. The third attacker was heavy and her breath had been knocked out of her. She struggled to gulp in the air, to get breath into her lungs, before the man’s hands were around her neck.
Joel was shouting her name.
The man was spitting and yelling so close to her she could feel the spit land on her skin while his hands squeezed. They were big, were wrapped all around her neck easily. All she could do was buck like a trapped animal, teeth and claws bared as she struggled wildly under his weight.
If she got taken out, Joel would be next. If she died, Joel would die. He couldn’t get free, couldn’t get back to Jackson and Tommy, couldn’t get back to Ellie. Her throat was raw and lungs burned, her mind desperately trying to find a solution but all she could hear ringing in her ears was Joel’s yells.
The man was almost nose to nose with her, dirty face twisted in rage.
As hard as she could muster, she smashed her head into her attackers, feeling the clatter of bones and teeth shake her skull. He shouted and jerked back, hands loosening just a bit. Not enough she could get her arms free, but enough that she rushed forward and latched onto his neck with her teeth.
She clamped down as hard as she could. His skin was dirty and salty and bile rose but she bit down harder and harder. Flesh tore beneath her teeth and blood rushed into her mouth, metallic and sharp, as he screamed and tried to get away from her. It only helped her to do more damage, ripping the skin.
Jackson was home, but it wouldn’t tone her down. If anything, it gave her more to protect, more things she would tear herself apart to keep safe. She’d rip the throat out of anyone who dared to hurt what was hers.
The man rolled off of her, desperately trying to cover the large hole in his neck as blood flooded out. She spat out the chunk of flesh with a growl and turned over with a hard swing of her hand, the knife skimming off bone before sinking into his chest with a hard thud.
There was a wet gurgling sound coming from him and she panted, spitting some of the blood in her mouth onto his body. There was no appreciating the silence this time, no letting the rage simmer down. It stuck to her, hot and bright, like the blood coating her mouth and jaw.
“Which one had the handcuffs?” she bit out and almost startled herself at how rough and raspy her voice came out. It felt raw, painful, but she swallowed past it and climbed unsteadily to her feet.
Joel’s face was a mask as he took her in, took in the three bodies around him and the blood covering her. He didn’t say anything, only jerked his head at the guy with the shiner she had attempted to strangle. Her body didn’t feel grounded, a second delay in her processing making her feel out of it, but she focused on the taste of copper on her tongue and roughly went through the guys pockets searching for the key.
Her fingers wrapped around a small piece of metal and she sighed in relief, thankful she wasn’t going to have to find a way to break the pipe and get the cuffs cut off in Jackson.
Joel still didn’t say anything as she walked over and kneeled heavily in front of him, hands going to the cuffs and working to get them undone. His hand and wrist were torn up from all the yanking he had done and she was thankful it wasn’t his dominant one or he’d be pissed. Not broken, but the skin was bruised and purple and would need one of the doctors to look at it along with the wound in his side.
The metal clicked and she pulled his hand free, not letting go, instead checking it over completely before she cupped his cheek and took in the gash on his forehead.
“Hey,” he bit out the word, eyes dark and lips pressed together into a hard frown. She ignored him, focusing on checking him over and taking a mental log of all his injuries. She should have killed them slower.
“We’ll have to scrap this run and get you looked at. I don’t trust those cuffs and the last thing we need is you getting infected,” muttering, she yanked up the bottom of his shirt without even asking and took in the long gash along his ribs, “You’ll need stitches. I can also see if Maria can get the blood out of the shirt and maybe patch the hole. This one’s a good one, I don’t want you to have to throw it away.”
Joel growled her name again, this time louder, and grabbed her chin roughly in his hand to force her focus onto his face.
She clenched her jaw under his fingers, swallowing blood and pain. Waited for the beratement, the breakdown of what went wrong and the self-punishment he liked to give himself so often. Waited for the potential disgust at the violence. But she wouldn’t apologize. He’d seen her do worse for less and she wouldn’t apologize for protecting him.
Instead, he watched her and took in the hard line of her brow, the blood drying across her mouth and chin and smeared all over, the bright fire of rage still burning in her eyes. And then he yanked her forward, kissing her hard and brutally, practically pulling her into his lap.
He didn’t cringe away at the taste of someone else’s blood on her tongue, of the way those teeth had ripped into someone a few moments before. He drank her in desperately, uninjured hand diving into her hair and tightening on the strands. The pain was still there. Her throat was raw and his hand stung as it clung to her side, knife wound bleeding even as he brought her onto his thighs. They both didn’t care, swallowing the other’s gasps of pain and pleasure.
Her whole body relaxed in his grip as if to say he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay and she let herself hold him tight and kiss him.
He would never say thank you. It was a process to get the words dragged out of him, but with him his actions always spoke louder. His fingers skimming her throat whispered that he would have killed them himself if he could, his tongue against hers spoke of his acceptance, his tight grip on her was his gratefulness.
Joel didn’t pull away from her, didn’t try and change her, and she’d rip the whole world apart for him for that fact alone. He was her family and she protected what was hers.
Joel Miller x fem!reader
The Last of Us (Show/Game)
1.3k Words
Summary: Because the women of Jackson have nothing better to do than set their eyes on Joel Miller.
She wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping. No, she was minding her own business, grabbing supplies to help Joel fix the slightly broken window in Ellie’s room. The teenage girl kept complaining that it made her side of the house five degrees colder despite the fact it was warming up to Spring finally.
It wasn’t her fault she was stuck in her ways, used to having to be silent as the dead, walking so quietly people had a habit of not noticing or hearing her. It was a survival skill, but one that didn’t suit settlement life where you were supposed to act normal and friendly and not like a ghost.
“Goddamn, it’s heinous how good the apocalypse looks on that man.”
Thank you! I use to primarily write a lot of action and horror and stuff so it's fun getting to go back to that and write someone who doesn't get hung up on "being good" lol.Have this little snippet I had written!
Joel wasn’t waiting for her to come back.
No, he just happened to be doing a crossword puzzle near the entrance because Tommy was working nearby and the house was too quiet. No other reason. Not because this was the first patrol their little group was separated for and he was feeling anxious. Not because he knew she didn’t exactly get along with the others in Jackson, a little too feral for settlement life.
Definitely not because he was worried since the person she’d been sent with was fuckin’ Grant of all people who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes in his fucking head.
He tapped the pencil against the paper, eyes scanning the gate and the patrolmen up top to see if they would give any signal of an approaching party.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Ellie joked and hopped up on the crate beside him, legs dangling over the edge. Joel grunted and turned his eyes back down to the page, doing his best to appear busy.
“They left pretty early so it shouldn’t be long now,” the teenager hummed, eyes following the same path his had done moments ago, “Like I get we’re supposed to integrate, but maybe you can pull some strings with Tommy so you and her only do patrols together.”
“And why would I do that?” he muttered, staring at the black and white squares that didn’t have a single letter in them.
Ellie raised a brow, “I’m sorry, did you want her to murder fuckin’ Grant?”
“He can handle her,” Joel bit out though the words tasted like shit leaving his lips. The cocky asshole couldn’t handle her. Hell, he could barely handle her sometimes.
The laugh that abruptly left her was enough to cause him to look up at her, “Okay, sure. Keep acting like you don’t care that you’re here and she’s out there with someone else.”
He set the pencil down fully, hands going to his hips, and stared at the girl, “Ellie, do you have a point to make or are you just here to annoy my ass? I’m not worried about her and I’m not going to pull any strings. We gotta do our part here and all that shit.”
She rolled her eyes, “Yeah cause you happen to be casually doing a fuckin’ crossword of all things right where you can immediately see when a patrol comes back. Dude, you’re so obvious.” Ellie chuckled and jumped down to her feet off the crate, “Which is Seven Down, by the way.”
He glared as she cackled and walked off, glancing down at the page once her head was turned. Fuck if she wasn’t right.
Joel wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of being right though and snapped the pages shut right as the upper patrolmen signaled a party's arrival. No, he wasn’t worried at all as they went through the process of opening up the gate. It couldn’t only be the three of them. They did have to integrate even if it felt like being eaten alive by ants. It didn’t mean he had to like it though.
Didn’t mean he liked her being away from him.
Grant was the first through the opening and he struggled not to grind his teeth, keeping the anxiety down even as he took in the man’s black eye and split lip, the way he limped through. Fuck, had they been attacked? He knew he should have argued with Tommy-
But then she walked through behind him, perfect and intact as if she had only been on a stroll. Still the same wild girl as always, eyes taking everything in. She dumped the large canvas bag with the gatekeepers to take inventory, going through the process even as Grant limped away into town without a glance back. Joel tried to get a good look at him, but the man keenly kept his eyes to the ground as he trudged past.
“Hey,” she greeted, giving him a nod and not showing any surprise at seeing him waiting, “Run went smooth. Found a decent enough stash that had been skipped past a few times. Some of these people are shit searchers. Didn’t run into any infected.”
Joel nodded, eyes following Grant again before turning to her with a raised brow, “Went smooth, huh?”
Her eyes darkened and she scratched at her chin, giving him a glimpse of slightly bloody knuckles, “Yeah, smooth.” Well that explained why she didn’t have a hair out of place and Grant looked like he fell down six flights of stairs.
He chuckled and shook his head, any anxiety left over finally leaving his body. Of course she could take care of herself.
Throwing an arm around her shoulder, they both headed back to their house, “Atta girl. Ellie was worried you would murder him.” Joel wasn’t going to mention that he was worried about the opposite, as improbable as that was, lest he wanted to get his ass handed to him.
“Nah, threatening castration seems to work just fine. Didn’t feel like getting rid of a body today.”
Suffice to say, Tommy stuck her with Joel for all patrols going forward. He didn’t complain.
ok but listen, feral!reader picking up ellie from the hospital with Joel...
God, they would slaughter together.
God help any motherfucker who stands in their way.
Violent Ends
Joel Miller x f!Reader
The Last of Us
2.6k Words/ 3rd POV
Feral Reader Masterlist
Summary: They find the Fireflies and one by one, the lights go out.
Warning: Violence. Spoilers for TLOU Ep 9 and the end of TLOU Part 1.
The moment feels frozen in time, right before the flash grenade went off.
It’d been a month since Denver. A month since finding both Ellie and Red in the snow, covered in blood. That desperation that had driven him awake and to his feet, driven him to walk through miles of icy wind and snow to find them, had all at once flooded out of him. Because they were alive and together and that’s all that had mattered.
It’d been hard dealing with all their wounds. Joel was still healing from the stab wound and had to be caught up to speed, his need to take over the role of caretaker making it hard for him to relax and rest. It didn’t help that Red was exhausted, injured, and they all needed taking care of. Ellie had murdered the man, David. Had gone through hell and back and was changed because of it. She had such awful nightmares those first couple of weeks. Nights where she would scream herself awake and when they went to hold her, she would thrash in their arms. Too many nights of either of them holding her, rocking her gently back to sleep like she was a baby.
Unbelievable damage had been done to all of them and for once, Joel was finding himself being the one to try and to tug everyone out of the darkness. He tried what he could to remind the girl of the good, show her fond memories, get her to laugh or even just be a little shit.
Too many late nights talking with the woman at his side about what to do about her. Too many long silences, the absence of constant chatter noticeable. There were moments when Ellie seemed fine again and then the next she was gone, eyes dark and glazed over. PTSD, Red had murmured. It was hard for her too. It’d been a long time since killing had affected her and she wasn’t sure what to do to comfort Ellie.
They continued on to Salt Lake City.
Something about finally reaching their destination, the end of this big journey, had felt too much and he was anxious. Ellie was determined, no matter how much he said they didn’t have to go through it with, to reach the Fireflies. No cans of Chef Boyardee or promises to teach her guitar or gentle ribbing deterred her. Just the promise that she would follow them wherever they wanted to go after the job was done.
At the back of his mind, he remembered Red telling him that when the job was done, she may go her separate ways. But she didn’t bring it up again and he wasn’t going to be the one to remind her. He didn’t want her to leave, couldn’t imagine it.
He wanted to grab both of them by the hand, shove them in a car, and drive them straight back to Jackson. He wanted to see Ellie smile and joke again. He wanted to have them safe under the same roof without worrying who was coming for them. Joel wanted to take the time to explore every inch of Red without distraction, see her finally unguarded and at ease. He wanted them with him at his side, happy and taken care of.
But they had to finish it all.
The moment before the flash grenade exploded, he’d been mid chuckle. His chest had felt light at the fact Ellie was finally laughing again, both of them arguing over shitty puns, and his eyes had found Red. She’d been smiling at him and he had wondered how many times she had ever actually smiled at him. Not at Ellie, but him and how he wanted to see it more.
Then they heard the sharp metallic ping of something hit the ground and his head felt like it was going to explode.
The world went dark.
They’d found the Fireflies but the cost was Ellie.
He had never really questioned how they would get the cure from the girl. Science wasn’t his forte so he had figured they would take some samples, run some tests, and then they would be on their way. But it’d been so stupid to be that naive. Cordyceps grew on the brain. He knew that and it had never clicked that the whole journey there had been a death procession.
Marlene’s face as she said she understood his pain was bullshit. She didn’t understand anything. She didn’t understand what it was like to raise a little girl only to have her die in her arms. What it was like to live in bitterness and hatred only to find another miracle child and keep her safe against the world. How many lives and bodies had followed in his and Red’s wake to make sure she was okay only to deliver her to her death.
Marlene didn’t understand shit because Ellie wasn’t her kid. She was theirs. And she expected them to simply walk away and rinse their hands of her?
She gave the order to escort him out, telling him his companion would be let out separately as soon as she was awake. They had to sedate her after she broke one of their arms when she woke up.
Joel’s mind was racing. On a feedback loop, that moment before the grenade went off played over and over again. Ellie’s laugh. Red’s smile. That feeling in his chest. His girls. His girls. He’d had panic attacks before, had been knocked breathless with pain at the thought of harm coming to them and the fear he would fail them.
But he wasn’t going to fail them this time. He wasn’t losing anyone anymore.
Ice cold violence washed over him as he took care of the two soldiers in the stairwell. It was so easy to pull the trigger again and again. Bodies fell to the floor one after another as he worked his way towards where the soldier had mentioned Red was kept. He’d get her and then they’d get Ellie and leave. The world could fucking burn if it meant Ellie would live and if anyone understood that, it was her.
He found her a floor up from where he was kept, his bullets finding Fireflies one by one. Their lights blinking out. Her bag was kept under the nurse’s station, some of her belongings spread out on the counter. They’d dug through them. Joel made sure to carefully put everything back exactly how he knew she liked it, knowing how attached she was to every single thing, and kicked open the door where she was being held.
They’d tied her arms to the wall radiator with rope, blindfold over her eyes and her head lolled to the side. Rage filled him at the sight of her that way, like a wild animal caught in a trap. She’d scared them. Scared them enough they didn’t want her to recognize their faces, to be able to see the fear in their eyes. Satisfaction filled him at that fact. He made sure to gently cut through the rope with Ellie’s switchblade, rubbing the raw skin around her wrists, and was lifting the blindfold off when she jerked awake, thrashing immediately.
Her nails were sharp and dug into his neck, drawing deep scratches, before he could catch her wrists. Her wild eyes were unfocused and he shushed her, speaking gently, “It’s me, it’s just me. I got ya.”
Pupils dilated and eyes blinking rapidly, it took her a bit to come to realize who was talking to her, “Joel?”
“It’s me, darlin,” he whispered, releasing her wrists and cupping her cheeks, “It’s me. We have to get you up and going, we don’t have much time.”
“Where-” she licked her dry lips, voice raspy, and looked around the room with a furrowed brow, “Where’s Ellie? What happened?”
His teeth grit and he wondered if he should lie to her. Tell her these people weren’t the Fireflies and had taken the girl, let her unleash unholy hell onto them. But this was Red and it didn’t matter who these people were to her. She wouldn’t care because the fact remained that they had taken Ellie and weren’t giving her back.
“We found the Fireflies,” Joel spit out, “They’re going to kill her. To make the cure. They have to kill her to get it.”
He didn’t have to explain what he was planning to do. They had always worked well, able to silently communicate without a single word passed between them. They were going to kill Ellie. That was all he had to say. Because if anyone understood what his choice was going to be, it would be her.
Joel could see it. The moment the statement sunk in, her brain landing on the same frequency as his. They were going to kill Ellie. Ellie. They were going to kill their kid.
Fuck a cure, fuck these people, fuck all of humanity.
He’d seen that same look in her eye when he’d found them in Denver, her face and clothes coated in blood that wasn’t hers and fingers digging into Ellie tightly as if she’d disappear into the wind if she let go. Rage, pure and decimating. She’d burn the world to the ground and salt the earth afterwards.
He handed over her pack and she quickly strapped it on before taking the spare pistol he had grabbed from one of the soldiers.
“How many?” she bit out and rose to her feet.
“A lot.”
“Okay,” was all she replied before checking her magazine clip and nodding towards the door, “You lead.”
And that was that.
She was his shadow, that silent communication taking over like when they were back in the wilderness. He’d turn and fire and she would be there, having his back as he reloaded and checked the corners. If his gun clicked empty before finishing a soldier, her knife would find the target. Quick and brutal and efficient.
Red didn’t hesitate. Even as some of the soldiers begged, she was quick to end them, picking up their gun and continuing on.
They moved with brutal proficiency through the floors, bodies and blood and bullets falling in their wake. When they needed to know what floor Ellie was being held on, they grabbed a person and she’d dug her knife into their thigh, getting the information before slitting their throat. One of them would grab a bottle and toss it, causing a distraction and giving the other an opening to mow down the Fireflies.
Mercy was not something they considered.
They had taken their kid, taken Ellie, they were going to kill her and that meant no one would be left alive. No loose ends, no one to come after them.
She saw what had happened last time in Denver when they left loose ends. David’s group had happened. Blood and fire had happened.
They wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
When they reached the pediatric floor, it was quiet, empty. The painted childlike imagery on the walls didn’t help their anger. Pediatric floor. For children. Yet here these people were, about to kill their daughter for the good of mankind. This is where kids came to be saved, not murdered.
Red’s body was humming with energy at his back and he knew that if he wanted to, he could unleash her and let her rip everyone to shreds even if it meant she’d hurt herself. She was a weapon to be used however he saw fit and it would be so easy to let her do it. But Joel wasn’t losing either of them. No, he was walking out with both of them at his side, safe so they could go back home together.
The slight murmur of voices drew them closer to the operating room.
The sight of his baby girl in a hospital gown on a table sent pain rushing through him. Ellie looked so small, hair undone and laid out around her and contraptions attached. None of the spitfire energy she usually had, no smirk, no grin at annoying him or frustrated frown when Red got after her. These people didn’t know who they were going to kill for their cure. Didn’t know the amazing girl the world would lose for them to gain a future.
The surgeon looked up and was startled at seeing both of them there. Joel doesn’t remember exactly what he said, only that the doctor had grabbed the scalpel and then he shot at the same time Red did beside him. The doctor fell and the nurses did too, dropping to the ground in a splatter of blood. Just more bodies in their wake.
They didn’t waste any time. Quickly drawing the IV out of her vein, Red grabbed tape and gently wrapped it while Joel worked to unhook Ellie from the machines. He couldn’t help but press a kiss to her hair and whispered, “We’re here, baby girl. Let’s go home.”
“I’ll cover the rear, you carry her, and we’ll go to the garage. There has to be vehicles there,” Red bit out, “We may have stragglers show up.”
He nodded and pulled Ellie off the table and into his arms, leading the way out of the room and into the hallway.
As predicted, there were stragglers. A few soldiers were running from the back stairwells, guns raised. He kept going, trusting Red to have his back. Joel trusted her with both their lives and knew she wouldn’t let anything happen to them. Especially not so close to the finish line. Sure enough, he could hear her open fire, the telltale sounds of screams and pained grunts echoing around them before the thuds of bodies hitting the ground.
Leave no loose ends.
The mantra played through his mind as they entered the garage and saw Marlene there. It played when he turned to look at Red, her eyes borrowing holes into Marlene’s with a rage he’d only seen a few times. And it played when he pulled the trigger on the gun he was holding underneath Ellie’s legs.
“You’d just come after her.”
___________________________
Red didn’t protest against anything he told Ellie.
He knew she wouldn’t, but to see her trust him fully to take the lead on the explanation made him reach across the center console and grab her hand. Her hands were still bright pink from scrubbing the blood off them, wiping away any evidence before Ellie would wake up.
Raiders. Barely made it out. No cure to be found. No one left.
Her fingers intertwined with his, gripping them back after checking on the sleeping girl curled up in a ball on the back seat.
“Back to Jackson,” Red murmured, blinking up at him under her lashes. The sun reflected off her cheekbones, lighting up her hair.
“Back to Jackson,” Joel replied and gave her hand a squeeze.
“You sure you want me around civilized folk?” she whispered and rubbed at a spot of blood in her jeans, hair falling into her face. The question was said jokingly but tentative. Do you want me around? You said there was no happy ending. Their past arguments swirled in his head and he cursed the man he had been, the one who had put that doubt there.
“Fuck civilized folk,” Joel assured her easily, hand on the steering wheel gripping it tightly, “I need my girls with me. Who else is going to help me look after our kid.”
Our kid. Because Ellie was. She was theirs.
Not by genetics but they were family tied together by blood and violence and something that ran so much deeper. Red had killed for them like they all had killed for each other. Joel would kill hundreds to keep both of them safe.
She smiled softly, head tilting back to lean against the headrest and blood still slightly smeared on her neck. Joel’s eyes focused on her mouth, the tilt of her lips as it curled up and the fact it was aimed at him. Just like before the flash grenade went off.
He was taking his girls home.
DESPERATELY NEED FERAL READER WITH EP 8 WITH AN INJURED JOEL AND KIDNAPPED ELLIE…….. I KNOW OUR CRAZY QUEEN WOULD KILL EVERYONE ♥️♥️♥️♥️
Yall asked for it lol
Violent Delights
Joel Miller x f!Reader
The Last of Us
6.7k Words/ 3rd POV
Feral Reader Masterlist
Summary: They took her kid and she was getting her back.
Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and torture
She woke up with a start, having drifted off unknowingly after trying to keep watch, a sense of disorientation as she tried to figure out where she was and what was happening. The basement. They were still in the basement, the cold leeching any warmth from the walls and floors, the haggard breathing of her companion her only company.
It’d been over 48 hours since she last slept, since Joel was hurt and they’d had to drag him into the house and patch him up. He wasn’t in good shape. Joel was so close to death’s door, it terrified her. They were so close to losing him and she had never felt more helpless.
She could still hear his pained groans, the glazed and blank look in his eyes, as she put pressure on the bleeding hole in his stomach just a couple days before.
“Don’t you dare die, Joel. You still have to make shit up to me and you can’t do that dead. You can’t leave us again.” He’d tried to tell them to leave him. To go back to Tommy’s and leave him behind, the stubborn asshole. But Ellie managed to find the first aid kit and they’d sewn up the hole, wrapping it best they could with the little supplies they had. She knew it wasn’t enough. There could be shards left from the baseball bat, they weren’t the cleanest, nothing was sterile. She didn’t even know if something internal had been damaged. But it was all they could do.
They’d been so focused on getting to Colorado they’d been using their food storage rather than hunting over the past week. Now it was biting them in the ass, their supplies dwindled. She’d managed to briefly go out and hunt down a rabbit, but game seemed scarce and leaving meant leaving Ellie and Joel alone.
Without Joel, it was hard to sleep, look after Ellie, look after him and keep him stable, look after the fucking horses, and hunt. She was overwhelmed. So sleep went out the window. She took watch when Ellie was asleep, went and tried to hunt and scavenge the nearby houses when she was awake, and kept an eye on Joel in between taking care of the two horses in the garage.
But at some point she’d fallen asleep finally, fallen deep and hard enough that she hadn’t noticed Ellie slipping the rifle from her hands and leaving the two adults alone.
A small scribbled note was placed on her lap on a piece of what looked like newspaper, “Be back soon -E.”
She scrambled to her feet, looking around and cursed herself. Joel was still breathing steadily but his brow was covered with sweat from the infection he was staving off. Both their packs were against the wall but Ellie’s was gone and the panic that took hold was like a lightning bolt. It stole the breath from her lungs. Ellie was gone, Ellie was gone, Ellie was gone- it was a racing thought that circulated over and over again. Her main purpose, main job, and she’d fucking fallen asleep.
Her heart jumped further at hearing footsteps above her head, the slight creak and shift in the old wood, a door slamming…then it all came out in deep relief as she recognized the light shuffling.
Ellie raced down the steps, cheeks pink from cold and wind, and breath huffing out in a rush as she entered the basement.
She grabbed the girl immediately, shaking her by the shoulders with the vestiges of panic still in her blood, “Where did you go, Ellie? You weren’t supposed to leave!”
The teenager paused, eyes frantic and a little wild, but a tough set to her lips as she shook her head, “I went hunting and you needed sleep! I had to, but look! I got Joel medicine!”
Ellie took the bottles out of their wrap, quickly moving away from her and kneeling down to Joel, beginning to lift up his shirt before she could even get a good look at what she had. The wound was ugly and discolored and she could hear him groan at the small touches. Her mind was still caught up in the panic of discovering the girl was gone and she quickly snatched the bottles away before the syringe was inserted.
“Where did you get this?” she asked, turning it over in her hands. Penicillin. Two whole bottles of penicillin, practically liquid gold in their world, and Ellie had managed to get it while she slept.
The teen looked nervous and tried to snatch it back, but she was quick even if she was exhausted and pulled her hand away, “Please, can we give it to him first and then I’ll explain?”
Her eyes were so big for her face, cheeks pink. Her desperation to help Joel was evident. Ellie knew how bad he was doing and believed she held the cure to it all in her hands. She could only sigh and hand it back over, instructing her to give just a fourth of the bottle and to tap the syringe. Joel would probably have a heart attack if he knew she was letting the kid give it to him, but she knew Ellie had to do this herself. It was her win and she had to feel like she was the one saving him so she let her.
But then they both stared, her knowledge only getting them that far.
“Where the fuck am I suppose to put this?” Ellie cursed, looking at the wound and Joel’s arm, eyes switching between hers and his closed ones, “Fuck, how are we supposed to do this?”
She cursed herself. Her medical knowledge was mediocre. Stitching, cleaning wounds, pulling out bullets, the basics they needed. Infections and medicine she had no clue about, “Just give it to him in his stomach. As long as it enters his blood stream, it should be fine.” At least, that’s what she thought.
Ellie winced and inserted the needle, Joel giving out pained groans as it sunk into the sensitive area. They both watched the plunger empty the contents and then she pulled it out, trying to clean the needle the best she could. They only had one syringe and would have to reuse it.
“And now we wait,” the teen commented and looked at his face as if at any second he would be magically better. He would wake up and smile and tell her good job. But he didn’t, staying silent on the small makeshift bed.
“No, now you tell me where you went and how you got that,” she bit out, sitting on the other side of Joel to face her.
Ellie winced and looked down at the small glass bottles in her hand, “You needed to sleep and we needed food. I know you think you can take care of all of us, but you can’t and I wanted to help by trying to hunt.”
“That’s not your responsibility-”
“It doesn’t matter. I wanted to help,” Ellie cut her off but then sighed, “And I did manage to actually get a deer…but I ran into these guys...”
Instantly, she was on high alert, eyes searching everything that was visible and checking her for any wounds, “You ran into people and you’re barely telling me!”
“I know!” the young girl argued back, hand resting on top of Joel’s, “They found my deer before me and said they were from a group with starving women and children. They offered to trade for half the deer and said they had medicine. I did everything I was supposed to! Got them to drop their guns, unloaded their rifles, and had them back away. One went to get the medicine and I kept the gun on the other.”
“So you gave them half the deer and they gave you the medicine then just let you go?” she asked and clenched and unclenched her fists. Ellie wouldn’t look so nervous if that was the whole story and she wasn’t nearly tired enough to have been dragging half a deer carcass back.
Shrugging, Ellie grimaced and refused to meet her eyes, “That was the deal…but they knew who we were. The people that attacked us at the university belonged to their group and this guy started talking about how one of theirs had been killed by a crazy man with two girls. He knows that was Joel. I don’t know why he let me go, but I think they’re looking for us.”
With a curse, she quickly stood, hands on her hips and pacing in a tight circle, “Fuck. Fuck. And they didn’t come after you?”
“No, I think they let me go because I was a kid.”
She doubted that. People rarely were that charitable, even to children in this world. Especially a child with a gun and an attitude like Ellie’s. The unspoken words were there though. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t come for her and Joel though. Ellie may be deemed innocent but the two of them were problems and only one of them was in commission currently.
But what could they do? They couldn’t move Joel in his state. They couldn’t leave him behind either. They were stuck.
“Okay. Maybe if they let you go they don’t plan on coming. Maybe they think both of us are injured if you were out on your own and won’t come,” she lied comfortingly and tried to speak the words into existence, knowing the kid was probably feeling guilty and needed some hope. They needed rest, needed to breathe for a second, and panicking now wouldn’t help.
It took a while to relax enough to let the adrenaline fade away.
Ellie laid down, exhausted, tucking into Joel’s side as she had the past couple nights and resting her head on his shoulder. He subconsciously leaned into her, still alive for now. Her heart ached at the sight, the way they held each other in their own ways. She didn’t have the strength to get after the girl more or uproot them out of precaution. They were all exhausted and Ellie had somehow managed to bring hope even if there was a cost.
She sat down by the stairs, flipped her knife between her fingers to keep her awake and focused, and watched the two sleep with her heart in her throat.
The men would come. Now that they knew they were in the area, they would come and they were stuck in this spot until Joel was better. There was no way they could get him on a horse and move him now without undoing all the healing he’d done. A thousand scenarios went through her head, sleep now a distant memory in the face of the panic and anxiety plaguing her. How was she supposed to fight off a group and keep them both safe?
She couldn’t. That was the reality of the situation.
The thought hit her over and over again like a blow to the chest, the knife turning between her fingers.
_________________________________________
Morning came and she could see Ellie’s disappointment that the medicine hadn’t instantly woken Joel up and made him all better. To ease her mind, they gave him another dose, trying to make the bottles last before shoving the remainder in their bags.
They were out of food, the rabbit she had caught two days ago long gone without a way to store it. Joel still wasn’t eating or drinking and she worried that even if they got the infection under control, his body wouldn’t be strong enough to get better. Things were bad.
The possibility of Joel dying was a constant chime in her head. It felt like a mockery that he had left and came back only to be almost taken from them permanently. She was angry. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that took the hit. It had been meant for her but he’d pushed her out the way as the bat swung, breaking on the tree, and then tackled the guy. If it had been her, Joel would know what to do. He could take care of them both or at least would have the strength to leave her behind if necessary.
She wasn’t sure she could. She was failing him. Failing them both.
The basement was suffocating, pressing in on her, and she took the opportunity to go tend to the horses, leaving the girl and her unconscious companion to the pressing weight of disappointment. Her body was beginning to ache from the lack of sleep and food, joints protesting her movement, but she reached down and scooped snow into the small metal bucket for them to get some water. Soon the horses would starve too or be too weak to carry them.
Death was creeping up on them.
Looking over the neighborhood they were held up in, she sighed at the obvious foot steps leading up through the streets before beginning to methodically cover what she could. Ellie knew better than to leave a trail but she guessed in her hurry to get the medicine back to Joel and get away from the men she had forgotten.
And as birds took off in a rush further down the road towards the wooded outskirts, she froze and her heart thundered in her ears.
She felt fear run through her as her thoughts from the night resurfaced and became reality, a living nightmare. They were coming. They had waited for daylight to search them out and were coming now. She knew it, could feel it, and they were out of time.
Quickly covering what she could and making false tracks from the other houses, she ran back inside and flew down the stairs to the basement taking two at a time.
No time, there was no time.
Ellie startled at her rushed appearance and the way she flew across the room to the rifle and her own pack, “What’s happening?”
“Those men you saw are coming,” she huffed out, grabbing the rifle and checking it was loaded before looking around the room as if she could find the answer there.
Turning to Joel, Ellie began to shake his shoulders as if he were merely sleeping and not borderline in a coma, “Fuck. Joel! You have to wake up, Joel. Joel, wake up! Wake the fuck up, Joel!” But he only gasped, pained whimpers leaving his lips, eyelids fluttering.
She bent down and grabbed Ellie by the shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes, “Ellie, I need you to listen to me. I need you to take the horse and run.”
“What? No, what about-”
“You run and I’ll follow behind and try to pick them off,” she interrupted, voice adamant, “They’re going to search every house and they will find us eventually. I can’t hold them off like this. I need to know you’re good first and if we’re away from here then it will take the focus off Joel.”
“You want me to go without you?” Ellie’s eyes were wide with fear and her heart ached at the sight, but there was no time.
“I’ll find you,” she promised and dug her fingers tightly into her shoulders as if she could sink the words into her skin, “I will. But you have to go now. We’ll block the entrance to down here, give Joel some time.”
Ellie pressed her lips together and nodded, running to grab her backpack and last minute grabbed one of the larger knives they had. Running back over to Joel, the teen knelt down and placed it on his chest, forcing his hand to grab it. She let her while grabbing the rest of her stuff and placed Joel’s pack into a small cubby under the steps to make it less noticeable.
“Okay, look at me,” Ellie whispered to him while he only groaned in reply, “There are men coming, okay? I’m gonna lead them away from you, Red is going to help get rid of them. But if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?”
“Ellie, hurry,” she bit out, peeking out the small window along the top of the wall.
“Joel, do not fall asleep,” the teenager pleaded desperately, squeezing his hand around the knife. She could see his eyes partially open, see his lips trying to move and his fingers twitching trying to grasp the knife. But Ellie finally got up quickly and rushed up the stairs.
She went to follow after her and paused, staring back at the unconscious man on the floor. A part of her whispered that this could be the last time she saw him alive. One or both of them could be dead if this didn’t go right. Heart in her throat, she ran back to him and kneeled, kissing his forehead and grasping his hand. “Stay alive for us, please, Joel,” she whispered, squeezing the hand around the knife, but getting back up and running up the stairs.
She tried not to look back.
Both of them moved the tall kitchen cabinet over the door entryway to the basement, trying to shuffle things around to not make the spot obvious before heading to the garage.
They got both horses out, grabbing what she needed from hers and sending silent apologies to Tommy before forcing it to gallop away in the opposite direction with a sharp smack. The other she saved for Ellie to ride, closing the garage door behind them. They’d figure out transportation later when they were out of this mess, but they needed the guys off their trail and two different horse tracks would help. With quick hands, she helped Ellie climb up onto its back.
Shakily, she bit out, “You ride hard and fast and loud. They’re going to come after you but if you go fast they won’t catch you and I’ll hit them from behind. They only know for sure about you right now. Do not look back, Ellie. I’ll find you once it’s safe, I promise.”
Ellie was shaking but tried to put on a brave face, nodding and holding onto the reins. She wanted to hug the girl, tell her it was going to be okay, but she wouldn’t lie to her. Not now.
The men were close, she knew that.
She patted the rear of the horse and nodded a final goodbye, beckoning her to go forward. Her heart screamed to not let her go, that it was safer with her than alone, but they were backed into a corner and she had no choice. They wouldn’t win in a shootout and losing meant Ellie would die.
So she watched as the girl rode away down the street away from her, turning until she was completely out of sight, and tried not to flinch at the gunshots that came soon after and the yells of men.
She tried to shut off the part of her that wanted to panic, to react and worry. That wasn’t the part she needed to listen to at the moment. Running as far as she could, crossing over fences and staying against the walls of the house, she followed the sound of loud hoof beats and chased after them as they chased after Ellie. Her ears caught on one of them screaming that she was to be left alive, but that didn’t ease the worry in her. Being captured alive wasn’t always a good thing.
One of the slower men chasing Ellie fell the furthest behind, wheezing in the cold and trying to clamber in the dense snow. Her own knife in hand, she ran and jumped onto his back, using both their weight to send them forward onto his front behind the cover of some of the shrubs.
He hadn’t been expecting to be attacked from behind and it took him a moment to try and struggle, to lift his face out of the snow to breathe, and she took advantage of that by stabbing deep into the back of his neck. He groaned, the sound muffled, and she pulled the blade out and sunk it in again and again with a growl.
The snow was staining red around them. He stopped moving. One down.
She stood and took off, the cold biting into her lungs and stealing her breath. The terrain was hard and the one kill had put her farther behind the group, forcing her to cut across more backyards to catch up, but she could only hope Ellie had done what she asked and was out of range. She could catch the rest of them once they scattered.
But then a gunshot rang out close by.
The sound of a horse’s cry ripped through her, tore her soul to shreds, and she knew if she lived beyond the day she would hear that sound forever in her nightmares.
She ran. She left all care of stealth behind and ran fast and hard, dodging trees and fallen branches and then ran faster when another gun shot rang out. The chest felt like it was being cleaved open by the panic, fear gripping her tightly. They wouldn’t have shot her. They wouldn’t have killed her. She was a kid, they wouldn’t-
And then she watched from the trees as the group surrounded Ellie who was on the ground, her horse unmoving not far away, and a tall skinny man picked her up and began to walk away with her. She raised the rifle, looking down the scope, and cursed as the men separated and began to head back into the neighborhood. No doubt to continue their search for Joel and her.
She could see Ellie’s face through the scope, the loll of her head, but she was gripped too closely to the man’s body. He was walking further and further away.
Two sides of her screamed. Leaving to go after them meant abandoning Joel, but staying behind meant leaving Ellie. She wanted to press the trigger, shoot, but knew it was too risky with Ellie in the man’s arms. She could so easily accidentally kill the girl if she was one inch off and her hands were too shaky from exhaustion to be precise. Only some of the group was going back, the others looking like they were continuing to scout the area.
She knew what she had to do, what Joel would tell her to do, but the reality of it felt impossible. If they found Joel, he’d die for sure. But she wasn’t sure she could live with leaving Ellie.
The men with the girl were getting farther away and a choice had to be made.
So she swallowed the sob in her throat and let the rage she felt consume her completely, push her forward, and followed behind the group to where they would take her kid.
__________________________
It was getting harder and harder to follow along as the wind began to kick up a notch. She needed to see where they were taking Ellie, but she was tired and the cold was sinking in, her body struggling to keep going. And as they entered the town, it was getting difficult to avoid being seen. Too many buildings, too many open areas, and she didn’t know who could be watching.
She knew they had entered one of the nearby buildings, but wasn’t sure which. The clock was ticking in her mind, Ellie’s life on one hand and Joel’s on the other.
What good was she if she couldn’t save her people?
Blood crusted on her fingers as she entered the first of the buildings quietly, finding a back entrance. It was dark but she could hear voices nearby as she found herself in some kind of storage room, the cold still reaching her through the walls.
She wasn’t used to carrying the rifle. It had always been Joel’s weapon thanks to its weight, her preferring knives or a small pistol or even a bow when she could find one. So when she crouched down to ease her way over to the swinging door leading further inside, she winced when it thudded and scraped against the floor, the sound so loud in her ears.
The voices paused and she froze, eyes wide and watching the door. There was shuffling and she quickly backed away into a darkened corner, pulling her knife out.
Steps came closer and she held her breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
The door swung open and she could see a man enter, beard a little rough and looking a little ragged, cheeks red from the cold. He frowned, looking around, gaze shifting over what he could. He turned to look at the back door, back facing her, and only then did she realize she had tracked snow inside and it hadn’t quite melted.
Lunging, she stuck the blade deep into his lower back with all her might and threw her arm around his neck, choking him hard. A cry of pain tried to leave his lips, breath cut off, and he struggled wildly. She twisted the knife, feeling blood coat her hand.
“Where is the girl?” she hissed, jerking the blade deeper.
He sobbed and made pathetic mewling sounds of pain, voice wispy from lack of air, “Please, I don’t know-”
She twisted, hearing the squelch of flesh tearing, “The teenage girl your buddy grabbed, where is she?”
The distinct smell of piss lingered in the air and he sobbed out, “I don’t know! Oh god.”
Steps were coming close again and she growled, keeping her grip on the knife buried in his body and shifting her arm away from his neck to hold the back of his collar. He wheezed in air, blood starting to bubble from his lips.
The door burst open and the distinct sound of a gun rising echoed in the tiny room, only to pause as she held the man in front of her like a shield, mostly hidden by his body.
“Howard-”
A woman’s voice. All the people who had attacked them had been men.
She wouldn’t have the information she needed. With a growl of frustration, she shoved the body at her, letting his dead weight hit her and trap the woman against the wall. She let out a startled cry and the delay gave her just enough time to unholster her pistol and shoot her in the head.
The numbness that was a twin to her rage had sunk into her skin, blanketing her all over. She’d search the buildings, one by one, and kill whoever she had to to find her kid. She didn’t care.
Stepping over the bodies, she moved into the area they had been in before she drew their attention and paused, icy horror filling her.
A leg was in the process of being cut apart, small chunks set aside and being wrapped up as if to store for later. It was a kitchen, most likely used to prepare food for stage, large makeshift smokers and pits along the back unused.
The ticking clock in her mind sped up as the reality of what she’d uncovered hit her. Cannibals. These people that had taken Ellie were cannibals.
A strong hit to her back sent her stumbling forward and clattering to her knees. She grunted and scrambled forward as a stomp missed her, hitting the ground instead. There’d been someone still in the room and she’d been too distracted to notice.
Rolling onto her back, gun still in her hand, she aimed and managed to shoot the knee out of her assailant as he raised a butcher knife. He crumpled to the ground with a cry and she got to her feet slowly, gun raised and trained on him.
The guy was younger, but thin and haggard looking. His bravado hadn’t fully left him though as he stared her down, anger in his eyes, “You fucking bitch. You blew out my fucking knee.” He tried to get up but she aimed at his head, making him freeze.
“I’ll shoot the other one too if you don’t shut up and tell me where the girl you kidnapped is,” she snarled, adrenaline helping to keep the firearm steady on him. His nose wrinkled and he spit at her, brow furrowed.
Stubborn. Younger guys were so stubborn.
She pulled the trigger and watched his other knee explode as the bullet met his target. The man screamed and she quickly knelt down, shoving her hand over his mouth and placing the still warm barrel against his forehead. Tears leaked out his eyes, making little dirt tracks through the grime on his skin.
“Where the fuck is she?” she screamed into his face and the sound was almost inhuman, gravel and fury warping it almost into a howl.
But he only shook his head, eyes defiant. Frustrated, she stood, looking at the meat cleaver in his hand and the human leg on the table. She didn’t have time for this. Ellie was out there and the situation was worse than she thought. Not even meeting his eyes, she raised the gun and shot him in the head. He wasn’t going to give her any information.
She raced back outside through the back door she had entered, heart in her throat and a panicked scream wanting to leave her lips.
The storm was picking up as an idea hit her. If she searched each building, there was no guarantee she’d find someone with information in time. She had to draw their attention. Maybe lure them out. They had wanted Ellie alive for the moment. If she could distract them, it may buy her time.
Chewing her lip, she kneeled behind the building and swung her pack around to dig through it. Her hand wrapped around a small glass bottle that had been carefully secured in the middle of her clothes and yanked it out along with one of her old shirts. They’d been saving it for emergencies, using it to sterilize what they could, but she needed it for something else now. Her face stung from the cold wind and her hands shook, but she managed to tear cloth and shove it into the liquor bottle, saturating the fabric, before she put her pack back on and stood.
Time to make a big fucking distraction.
Blocking the wind with her hands, she lit a match and watched as the tip of the cloth burned bright with flames.
With a snarl, she tossed the molotov through the window of the next building, ducking down and watching as the flames exploded inside. Screams and shouts followed, telling her there had been people inside, and she waited for more voices to join them. Someone would investigate or come outside.
Like clockwork, a man rushed out into the cold and she gripped her bloody knife at the familiar face. One of the men that had come back with Ellie. He cursed and ran through the snow, yelling that he was going to grab the fire extinguisher next door while the others scrambled to put the flames out. She followed, quiet, lava flowing through her and teeth bared. She couldn’t even feel the cold anymore.
The wind blocked any sound she made as she rushed after him into the alley and lunged, shoving him into the cold brick wall with a loud crack. She growled and grabbed his hair, gripping it tightly and smashing it into the bricks once then twice. He tried to push away and turn, but she kneed him hard in the spine, driving him to his knees.
“Where is the girl?” she snarled into his ear, knife to his throat.
Blood poured down an open wound on his forehead, one eye blinded by red, as he finally took in who had grabbed him, “fuck you,”
“Wrong answer,” she yanked his hair and slammed it into the wall again. When he went to raise his hand to fight her, she stabbed the blade through his hand and into the ground. His screams were carried away by the wind and snow, the shouts of his group telling her they were still distracted by the fire.
“The girl your group grabbed,” the words were all razors and broken glass, almost the sound of an animal snarl, “Where did you take her?”
He sneered at her, trying to put on a strong front through the pain, “That bitch is probably soup by now.”
She stepped on the knife, the blade so far in his hand the hilt was pressing against the back, “I can make this last a fucking lifetime. Your choice. Where-”
“Please, don’t-”
Frustrated, she ripped the knife out and placed the tip just inside his mouth, “Last chance. Where is she?” The tip clinked against his teeth and he hung his mouth open to avoid being cut, his beard a mess of blood and spit and green eyes wide with fear finally. She tried not to feel satisfaction as seeing that, understanding setting in for him.
He lifted his bloody hand and tried to point across the street, stuttering out, “Steakhouse. The fucking steakhouse. David has her in there.”
She looked at him, eye swollen, and blood coating the front of his face, clearly terrified.
Slowly, she took the blade away, watching his lips wobble with sobs and slight relief. Then she slit his throat, continuing to move behind the buildings even as his blood sprayed out and soaked her clothes and his pleas gurgled and quieted.
The steakhouse was a few more buildings down across the street, “Todd’s Steakhouse” still written on the sign out front. The storm was a blizzard now, sharp stinging snow hitting her skin and turning the blood on her into patches of ice. There were yells, panicked screams, and she wondered if they had found the bodies. If they had found the blood and chaos she had left in her wake.
But with a destination in sight, she had let her guard down and she cursed herself later on for it. Arms wrapped around her torso, crushing the rifle into her back, and she kicked at the air as she was dragged back against a brick wall.
“You fucking bitch!” Screamed into her ear and she was tossed to the ground, teeth clattering from the impact.
A kick landed in her stomach and she grunted, the air leaving her lungs, but she had enough sense to grab onto the leg and cling to it. The move caught the man off balance and he tripped, falling to the ground next to her. Her blade was somewhere in the snow and she struggled to dig around for it, sharp steel nicking her fingers as she found it only to be thrown onto her back.
The man climbed on top of her, straddling her waist, his weight so heavy and her pack on her back making the move crushing. She grit her teeth and bucked, thrashing to try and get him off of her. But he only grinned, pulling back and decking her in the face. Stars lit up behind her eyes, a high pitch ringing all she could hear as pain exploded through her head.
He pulled back to punch again and her fingers found the cold metal in the snow. She wrapped her hand around it, feeling the sharp steel cut into her palm as she grabbed it by the blade instead of the hilt, and stabbed it into his lower throat. She didn’t stop, only switching to pull it out by its handle this time, and stabbed again and again, blood reigning down onto her.
With a howl, she shoved him off of her and sent a final stab into his face, snow soaking into her and pain a radiating heat. Everything hurt and it was an effort to get up and roll onto her side, staring at the decimated body next to her.
She spit blood on him and stood.
There was smoke coming from all around her, the fire having caught from the molotov and moving on building to building. Across the way, smoke could be seen from the steakhouse and she swallowed her pain, letting adrenaline carry her to the front doors.
Her hands shook as she tried the handles, pulling again and again but they stayed locked and shut. Growling, she threw her shoulder into it. She was so close. She had found the place and was so close and a locked fucking door was all that was keeping her away. Her breathing was quick and frantic as she looked over the front and tried to reason that there had to be a back door or an employee entrance. Her hands skimmed the wall to try and keep upright, knowing soon the exhaustion and pain would take over, but she tried to push it back.
Ellie had to be close. She needed to keep going a little bit further and then she’d get her kid and they’d go get Joel.
Her steps stumbled and she pushed off the wall, screaming at herself to stay steady. There, she could see the back door. Plain and wooden, easy enough to shoot the lock off and get inside. With shaky fingers, she unhooked the rifle from her shoulder, the weight of it almost unbearable, and took two shots to get the lock blown off.
Her legs were shaky as she climbed the few steps and opened the door, smoke pouring out. She coughed and tried to wave it away, stepping inside and feeling the heat. She had taken only a few steps into the building and stopped, hearing a familiar voice.
“Red?”
Relief flooded her, eyes instantly filling with tears, as Ellie emerged from the smoke not too far in front of her. Ellie was there, hair a mess and half tumbling out of her ponytail, blood splattered and smeared all over her face and clothes. It took her a while to realize she was standing there, actually standing there, watching as the girl stumbled forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist.
Smoke and fire was all around them, but she couldn’t care because she had Ellie and they were both alive and safe now. With shaky hands, she managed to direct them back out of the building and into the cold, fresh air. Her promise rang in her ears and she whispered them out loud as she clung to the girl, “I found you. I found you. I’ll always find you.”
And she had, but not quick enough. She knew that something awful had happened, that Ellie was now one step closer to being what her and Joel were. The tough exterior had crumbled away and all that was left was a shocked girl who’d had a piece of her soul cleaved away. Her nose was busted and she knew that look in her eyes, the horror and pain at doing something ugly but necessary.
Ellie’s lips were shaking as she looked her over and she was so focused on the girl she almost didn’t see Joel coming around the corner. Joel, standing and whole and alive, coming towards them like Ellie was a gravity well pulling both of them towards her. His eyes met hers and the relief was bright, even if she was dripping in blood.
But Ellie hadn’t noticed the shift in attention, hadn’t heard his steps, and when he went to grab her she bucked and thrashed in his arms in sheer desperation. So much like her, a wild animal fighting not to be caged. Her heart tore apart, shredded to pieces, at the painful screams then broken sobs as she realized who was holding on to her.
Joel only kept whispering, “It’s me, it’s me, I’m here.”
“He- I-” she stuttered, eyes glazed and searching both of theirs.
Joel held on with all his might, trying to ease her, gentle words soothing. And the girl crumbled, falling into his arms and clinging to him tightly as much as he was clinging to her. His eyes met hers and she let the exhaustion hit her and carry her towards them, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around them both.
All three of them, blood soaked, finally home with each other.
PUHLEASE bitter was SO GOOD!! you write angst so well it makes my chest hurt 😭 but what about what happens the next morning when joel decides to keep going with them 👀 how does feral reader react
Thank you all so much! I didn't expect people to really want a part 2! I really appreciate how everyone has really latched onto this character and want to see her react so feel free to always send requests my way! Here's part 2!
Bitter| Part 2
Joel Miller x f!Reader
The Last of Us
4.7k Words/ 3rd POV
Feral Reader Masterlist
Summary: The morning after the blow out. Joel is gone.
Part 1
Ellie was still asleep in her arms when she heard the door across the hall open. She listened with her heart in her throat and anger fresh in her blood as familiar footsteps entered the hallway, seemed to pause, then walk down the steps away before the front door shut.
Joel was gone and the world seemed a little bit more bleak.
She didn’t go back to sleep, but laid there holding onto the young girl with her thoughts a swirling mess until dawn broke through the thin curtains. The two of them were silent, somber, getting their packs together and dressing again for the rough weather they would have to travel in. She had never liked the cold before and liked it even less now, but it almost seemed to match how she felt all over. She was a coal fire, burning deep in her core but frigid outside.
Ellie’s bright disposition had dimmed drastically. There was no snark, not even any bitter comments about their missing companion. The night had broken her in a different way, grief and disappointment almost making her meek.
When the knock sounded, Ellie’s tentative “come in” pierced the silence and her heart broke a little more for the girl.
Tommy peeked in, looking over his new charge then catching her eye with hesitation. She knew Joel’s brother was cautious with her, hadn’t known how to take her presence and stares and the way she watched everything. But he tried to offer a small sympathetic smile, understanding pulling his lips that he wasn’t the brother they had come to be familiar with but were stuck with all the same. He led them out the way before pointing over to the stables where they would be mounting up for the journey.
She kept her hand on Ellie’s pack the whole walk there through the still sleeping streets of Jackson, reassuring them both that they had each other. Even though she was stuck with someone she didn’t know, she was glad to be leaving Jackson and going back out there. Out there she knew how to survive, how to deal with everything. The small town was out of her element and she felt like everyone knew it, would watch her with accusatory eyes.
Her thoughts tried not to stray to the man who had dumped them there. Found his brother and promptly got rid of them, brushing his hands of the burdens he’d had pushed onto him. If she focused on him, the anger would turn to hurt and hurt didn’t have a place outside the walls of safety.
With a sigh, she followed Ellie into the stables only to stop short behind her as they reached the first stall.
Joel stood there, checking over a horse that had been prepped already with a saddle and bags. His eyes found hers, then Ellie’s, then his brother’s before going back to preparing the horse. The air was tense and suffocating, the weight of everything between them all occupying the space. She held her breath, clenched her teeth.
“You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie bit out in anger. The words were mocking, but she could hear the almost underlying hope in them. For all he had said and done to hurt her, the girl wanted him to stay and choose her.
“No,” Joel replied and she could see her shoulders fall in disappointment, but he continued, “I came here to steal one of these horses and go.”
She wanted to scoff, but bit her tongue, jaw clenching so hard her teeth groaned. Tommy looked between them and shrugged to his brother, ever placating, “Well, I woulda gave you one.” Because Joel only ever had to ask and his brother would always give.
At that Joel turned, patted the horse and looked at him with a sigh, “I know.” It was an acknowledgement that Tommy would always be there, always want his approval and love. There was a small smile, tinged in sadness, but Joel only sniffed and turned to the two girls that were his companions, “Anyway…that was thirty minutes ago and I guess…”
The words were stilted, awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say but knew if he stopped the words wouldn’t come out at all. He sighed again and walked towards them, licking his lips and decidedly avoiding her eye contact.
Swallowing, he pulled his bravado back off the floor and looked at Ellie, “You deserve a choice.”
Instantly, she could see Ellie’s eyes light up the moment the words were out in the open, that hope a bright shining beacon even as he continued, “I still think you’d be better off with Tommy-”
She nodded and shoved her bag into his hands quickly and with force, cutting him off with an enthusiastic, “Let’s go.”
He paused with his next words halfway on his tongue, frozen as she simply looked at him and brushed passed to the horse. “Okay,” the words were a hammer, cementing the decision and the path going forward. Joel stared at the empty spot where the girl once stood then his eyes flickered up finally to meet hers. She was stuck in between feeling that boiling anger from the night before and relief. He wasn’t leaving them behind, wasn’t abandoning them. All three were back together, but now she wasn’t sure how to feel.
It was easier to just hate him and never see him again than deal with this rift between them.
Tommy seemed to understand there was still something else at play beyond Joel’s decision. With a small smile, he nodded at them both before shrugging, “I better go get a second horse prepped for y'all. I’ll be back.” He gave his brother a pointed look, patting his shoulder, before quickly exiting further into the stables.
Joel swallowed, dark eyes meeting hers. Nervous. Joel Miller was nervous and she wanted to sink her teeth into that, use it to gain an upper hand because it was better than him making her feel unsure and lesser. He sighed for the thousandth time before calling back to Ellie, “We’ll be right back.”
For once, the girl didn’t make a comment or ask for an explanation. She was sure some part of their conversation had been overheard from across the hall and Ellie didn’t protest giving them their space.
Walking forward, he nodded to a spot a little bit away but she didn’t move. She didn’t want to be alone with him, didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Joel wasn’t leaving Ellie, that was her only concern. They didn’t have to get along to make this work. If anything, they’d proven that months before when both had hated each other vehemently. It’d only been sex. There were no hurt feelings, couldn’t be because feelings had never been involved.
But she found herself turning around and moving, his hand hovering over her back as he guided her a distance away, and the sting of anger still coating her throat along with something that felt like pain.
“Listen, last night-”
“Don’t,” she hissed, surprised to feel herself slightly shaking and yanked away from him to put space between them, “I don’t need your morning after regret apologies. You said what you had to say and you’re right. My only point is to help Ellie and that’s it. There’s nothing else, we won’t be crossing that boundary line again.”
“Red, stop,” he shook his head and took a step closer, wincing, “I- fuck, I didn’t mean-”
She scoffed, baring her teeth, “Didn’t mean what? The part where you didn’t want me around? Where I was just a hole for you to fuck? Where you didn’t give a shit what happened to me?” She smiled bitterly, “There’s a long list, Tex, you’re gonna have to be specific.”
His brow furrowed and hands went to his hips as he stared down at the ground, lips pressed tightly together. He seemed unable to get the right words out, mouth opening and closing in frustration. He’d never been good at hard discussions, especially about things like emotions, and whatever apology he had planned caught in his throat.
So she pushed forward, fueled by the anger she felt burning in her chest and the urge to make herself or him hurt for no reason other than her bruised feelings needed to find a release, “You were right. I’m not Tess. I’m not anything. There is no happy ending for me. We get Ellie to the Fireflies, I make sure she’s safe, and then no one has to deal with me any longer. I’m out. She’s good with you but I’m not going to abandon her mid-journey.”
The unspoken “unlike you tried to” settled into the space between them, a live wire.
He frowned, teeth clench, and when his eyes met hers they seemed to plead, “I want to fix this.”
Joel had to be the one to fix things, no matter how impossible. Protect, fix everyone’s problems, be the savior.
But that wasn’t always possible.
“You can’t fix everything,” she bit out and turned, walking away, trying to ignore the glimpse she had gotten of his hand reaching out to grab her wrist.
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She tried to focus that first day.
It was like resettling into an old skin that was slightly too tight. Her eyes would track their surroundings, feel the motion of her horse underneath her, hand on the strap of her rifle but every now and then she would feel his gaze on her.
Ellie quickly got back into the groove of being with them, much happier now that her favorite person was back with her. Her hands gripped his waist and she would send small smiles her way as if to say, “Look, he came back to us.” She tried not to openly frown so as to not dim the girl’s spirits and listened to them chat without much input.
But it was hard to ignore how he looked over to her every so often, how he seemed more open and relaxed around the kid behind him, even answering whatever questions she had and not once telling her to shut up after her tenth pun. She tried to ignore how he seemed lighter, more at ease, even chuckling and smiling more.
The Joel Miller riding the horse with Ellie at his back was different from the one the night before, proclaiming she wasn’t his daughter, that they were parting ways and that was that. And she wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge.
A decision seemed to have settled in his mind. What the question had been, she wasn’t sure, but he’d make a choice. The wall that had been so high, steel and concrete thick, and been so slow to come down and fast to resurrect was almost decimated completely. This was a glimpse of the Joel Miller that he had existed back in Texas and she wasn’t sure what to do with that.
She felt more like a stranger than ever.
When they stopped to make a fire and eat in the cover of some rocks, he didn’t argue about the smoke, about the placement of their sleeping mats with his in between theirs, and even served her himself, eyes unwavering as they met hers.
Ellie wasn’t stupid, she knew that. She could tell the kid was quick to understand some of what had happened between them, what had been going on before Jackson, and that she wasn’t so quick to forgive as the kid was. Ellie was a soft spot for her, both of them, one the kid knew and manipulated often, but she was slower to trust others and it had taken months to let Joel in only for him to blow that up.
She wasn’t sure when both the teenager and gruff man next to her had climbed under her skin, but they had and she wasn’t sure she liked it. It made losing so much harder, the thought of leaving them behind a tight knot in her throat.
The problem was she wanted to forgive him. She wanted things to go back to how they were because it was so much less complicated. Yes, sex had been involved and even when it wasn’t, she often found herself wrapped around the man in their sleep, but denial was easy to hang on to. She clung to the excuses, like that they still hated each other or there was nothing there but raw need and a means to an end when it came to release.
But she had liked the attention she had gotten, his hands on her body and lips on her skin. The late night chats about nothing that somehow meant everything. They’d handed over small pieces of themselves to each other, calling them junk when really they were treasures. He’d been a good southern boy, taking care of his brother. His favorite musician had been Johnny Cash and he’d worked his first job at fifteen so he could buy his own guitar. Little bits of Joel that had been castaway comments, but she’d kept them close to her chest.
Now, with his eyes constantly on her, something in those dark irises, she wasn’t sure what to do with this kind of attention. She was used to Joel being on equal or higher footing and now it felt odd to have him almost silently pleading with her, asking for her grace. Like a supplicant asking for forgiveness.
She went to sleep first if only to escape, saying she’d take second watch, and could feel his eyes on her as she slipped into darkness.
When Ellie asked to use the rifle the next day, she expected to hear his usual grumbling in protest. She’d been given her pistol and that was as far as he’d ever let her use a weapon. But she watched now as Joel gave in, watched Ellie’s smile bloom into a huge grin as he told her he was going to teach her how to shoot it properly first. And she continued to watch in uncertainty as this new Joel made a target out of scrap material and walked far out, setting it up a good distance away in the small field they were crossing.
The girl was giddy, practically bouncing on her heels, and kept looking to her in celebration. Ellie grinned wide at her as he did so, almost in amazement that he was giving in to her, and she had to smile back though her heart hurt at the childlike excitement. She knew this was Joel’s way of making things up to her. He was bonding with her, teaching her, like most fathers would. And she was unable to keep her eyes off the man as he walked back with an easy step.
She sat on the ground a foot or two away from them as he showed her how to hold the rifle, load it, and aim down the scope. A toppled log served as their brace and they both bickered, tucked into each other closely, as he watched through binoculars and she flinched with each shot, bullets going wide. Ellie was stubborn and so desperately wanted to be a natural, wanted to prove herself to the man, thus leading to her blaming the faulty weapon.
As time went on, their conversation loosened the tight knot inside her and she found herself relaxing and smiling at them. The thought floated that this must have been how Joel was like when he was a dad, staring down at Ellie with humor and ease.
When they switched and he shot the target centerpoint, she had to swallow a laugh at the dumb face he made at the girl and the wide eyed amazement Ellie tried to disguise. There was a sense of pride about him at that look, like in her eyes he had grown ten feet tall and was capable of anything.
As he turned to look at her, she knew she hadn’t stifled her smile fast enough. She got up and went to the horses, getting them ready to head back out, if only to hide for a bit.
This was a different Joel. Warm and sometimes gentle, patient and reasonable. But she was still the same, rough and sharp and broken edges.
Maybe leaving was for the best before she cut one of them.
Night fell again and they went through the same unwinding process. Ellie was talking in between bites of food, asking questions about what they used to do back in the day as if recognizing that there was no longer a barrier prohibiting it. At least when it came to Joel. She was still tight lipped, keeping the ugliness that was her own history away from the light conversation. She had already given enough of her story to the girl, the good parts, and didn’t want to stain her with the bad.
But Ellie was so smart sometimes and could see the unresolved tension. When the food was done and everything put away for the night, she feigned a yawn, arms stretching high above her head, “Man, I’m pooped. All that shooting really tired me out so I think I’m gonna turn in early. Night!”
And then she’d dragged her sleeping bag to the opposite side of the campfire flames, furthest back into the alcove they’d found, and turned her back on them to sleep. Distance. She’d given them distance to be alone together.
She sighed, feeling the pressing silence between them both now that Ellie’s presence was no longer acting as a buffer. The campfire and the night sky made them feel like they were in their own bubble, sitting at the edges of the light with the darkness at their backs. The small ridge they’d taken shelter in hid them but also trapped her there with him.
Before, she hadn’t ever been good at relationships or feelings. She’d been in her early twenties when the world fell to pieces and had been with Harry for six years. High school sweethearts. A romantic notion back then but now eye rolling in the current state of reality. She hadn’t gotten the chance to experience getting to know other men, to deal with anyone other than meek Harry.
Joel wasn’t him. Joel was all bristles and rough charm, dry humor and hard stares. And twenty years later, decades of being alone, she was even worse at people than before.
She didn’t know how to do this.
“Red-”
“I’ll take the first watch,” she cut him off, standing quickly and grabbing the rifle from its spot, “You get some sleep.”
She needed to get away from him, get away from his stare and the feeling of rage that was quickly falling away to showcase the pain it had been covering up. The reality of being alone with him, of him bringing up the argument, was a pressing weight that was threatening to suffocate her. It wasn’t anything she could fight. She couldn’t claw or bite or shoot or stab this feeling and needed to get away.
But she’d forgotten. Joel was persistent. She would only be able to dodge him for so long when he was determined and that luck seemed to run out already.
“Red, stop,” he was quick on her heels as they both walked a bit outside their camping spot, the fire casting faint orange light on their skin, “Please, I’m sorry-”
His hand was on her wrist and she tried to shake him off, but couldn’t, “I don’t need your fucking apologies-”
“Will you just fucking listen to me?”The pressure was too much, her breath thin rasps from her lungs as it all threatened to choke her. Jackson, the argument, this new easier Joel with his stares, Ellie’s happy smiles, and her like a looming storm cloud behind them. The pressure was mounting and mounting, tearing at her skin, stabbing her heart.
Then it finally erupted.
She punched him.
It was a quick, hard snap and her knuckles stung, but that anger inside her rose and rose and she couldn’t stop herself. She was hurt and like all wild animals when they were hurt, they lashed out. They were dangerous.
Joel stumbled back a couple steps and released her wrist, eyes findings hers in the darkness, and his hand rose to touch his lip. Drops of blood sparkled in the distant firelight.
“Starshine-” she swung again and this time met air as he leaned back, dodging. Again and again, she punched wildly, stance forgotten, frustration building as he moved out the way or she only managed to clip skin or clothes. The rifle she’d been holding had dropped to the ground forgotten.
He caught her fist and held it in his grip tightly, grabbing her free wrist in his other hand and backing them up to the ridge wall until her back met stone. She bucked and fought against him, knees raising to kick and knee him until he pressed even closer to keep her from being able to lift them.
“I- fuck, Red, stop. I’m sorry!” he hissed as she struggled against him like a trapped animal, “I am, I’m sorry for all of it.”
“Fuck you,” she snarled in his face.
“Come on-” he pleaded and the words were a sad sigh, wincing when she knocked against him particularly hard.
“I hate you,” she growled and tugged against his hold, hands trapped between their chests and the heat and smell of him all around her.
“I know,” he whispered back softly, remorse dripping into her skin.
Everything was a mess inside her, lava filling her blood and bones, his fingers and touch scalding. She didn’t know what to do with everything bubbling inside, didn’t know what to do with herself, but it all felt like too much. This man had hurt her, had comforted her, had fought and raged against her and also raged for her and protected her. He’d left and come back and now she didn’t know how to deal with this version that looked at her with soft eyes and apologies.
It was too much.
She needed a release so she took it.
Her mouth smashed against his, bridging the space between them and catching him off guard. He quickly caught up and sank into her, kissing her back with equal force though not letting go of her. His blood was on her lips, on her tongue, and she dug her fingers into the fabric of his coat with a groan.
She wanted to devour him, eat him whole and never let him go. It hurt being with him, never quite knowing how to operate, but the pain made her feel more alive than she’d had in a long time. Her skin hadn’t known touch in so long, lips cold and alone, that she wasn’t sure if she could go without his now and that made her angry. It made her desperate and those small few hours where she thought he’d left them had made her realize that hollowness was a possibility.
Finally one of his hands let hers go, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t take his relaxing as an opportunity to run. So he took that as permission to run his fingers through her hair, twisting the still freshly cleaned strands between them. She bit down on his lower lip, swallowing his groan, and when he opened his mouth her tongue found his.
This wasn’t like the other times where it was nothing but gnashing teeth and tongue and lips, almost brutal and bordering on painful. He wanted her, she could feel it in the press of his hips against hers and the eagerness of his mouth, and was so gentle with her. While she took and took, he freely gave and let her take the charge. It wasn’t a battle, but a surrender.
Her hand drifted, frustrated at his lack of fight, and went to his belt buckle before working to get it undone. She needed to feel him, to get him to fight and be aggressive and not be so fucking soft with her. It wasn’t something she was ready for, what him being this way towards her meant.
But Joel paused, forehead against hers as he broke their kiss, whispering his protests, “Wait, hold on.”
She didn’t want to stop because stopping meant talking and she felt rubbed raw, naked before him and the cavity of her chest ripped open. As her hands continued to underdo his belt, his hand came to rest on top of them, stilling her fingers.
One hand in her hair, he used it to lift her chin up and meet his eyes, bringing them both back to awareness. His lip was still bleeding, some of it smeared across his chin and beard, eyes so dark in the firelight as he looked her over, “I…you aren’t nothing. Not to Ellie… and not to me.” He sighed, brow furrowed and she wondered if he could feel her shaking, “And…you aren’t Tess-”
She pulled back, the name a wound with ripped open stitches, and tried to walk away but he stopped her, “Just wait.”
With a hard frown, she whipped back to him, “Were you this bad at apologizing before the world ended or is this a new thing?”
“I was bad before,” he huffed out frustrated and paused, the words stuck in his throat and like he was trying to force them out, “Sarah…my daughter used to get after me and feed me the words. I’ve never been good at it.”
Pausing herself, the name of his kid felt big between them. An admission, an acknowledgement. He hadn’t ever talked about his kid, but here he was. It was enough to freeze her in place, keep her there and silent so he could continue.
“You aren’t…Tess and I don’t want you to be. You’re not a replacement,” Joel chewed on his lower lip, head bowed, “I like you how you are, rough edges and all, and I shouldn’t have said any of it. I’m sorry. I was angry and I thought you both would be safer with Tommy-”
“I don’t care who I’m safer with,” she cut him off, surprised by the adamency behind her own words.
“”Well I do,” his own reply was biting, not angry at her, but frustrated at her own lack of care, “I care if you’re safe, both of you. I thought you both would be better off without me and I was trying to pull away…only for you to try and claw me back. I was really fucking stupid and I know yesterday or tonight won’t make up for it.”
His thumb caressed her cheekbone and she let out a shaky sigh, biting on the inside of her cheek as he continued softly, “But in the same way I need Ellie, I need you too.”
Joel, at his core, was a builder. Before the world tanked, he’d worked with his hands because that’s what he could do. Fix things. That was how he operated. He wasn’t a master strategist, wasn’t a leader. He was good at figuring things out when needed and putting things right. And she could see how desperately he wanted to fix the damage between them.
It was just a matter of if she wanted things to be fixed. And maybe she did, even though she knew the path they were going down was going to be so much more complicated. Fixing things also terrified her.
“You’re right,” she replied hesitantly, “It doesn’t make up for it.”
“I know-”
“We’ve got a week until we reach the Fireflies and before I decide if I’m leaving. Guess you have time to work on it,” she let the statement hang along with that dangling hope of forgiveness. In truth, he didn’t have to work hard. If he kept smiling at her, kissing her, she was done for. It was the stubbornness and pain that was clinging on like the last vestiges of a war. She didn’t know if she would actually leave, if she could leave them both.
But they had a week at most to figure that out.
Joel pressed into her, forehead resting against her own once again. She could feel the relief flood him, the way his hands wrapped around her waist in thanks. And this time she didn’t fight him when his lips turned to meet her own, this time with gentleness instead of rage, a whispered apology in each kiss.
Maybe this new Joel wasn’t bad, wasn’t entirely different if he still wanted her.
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Tag List:
Prompt request from the angst portion of that list: “you can’t be bitter now, this was your decision.”
I’m mostly just ill for both Joel and your writing so do with this as you please but bonus points if you make it hurt. 🥲 🖤
You and your angst 😂 You asked for it!
Bitter
Joel Miller x f!Reader/OC
The Last of Us
3.2k Words
Feral Reader Masterlist
Summary: Joel makes a decision for all of them when they finally find Tommy in Jackson.
Part 2
There were only a few minutes in Jackson where Joel was actually happy. That initial reunion with his brother, where he had hugged him and smiled so big it had eclipsed the sun, had been the happiest he’d ever been. She’d never seen Joel smile. Smirk, yes, but it was never joy that turned his lips. Reluctant humor, small satisfaction, but joy wasn’t an emotion she had seen on Joel Miller’s face in the time she’d been with him and Ellie.
It lit his whole features up, took years off his face, turned his usually dark eyes brighter where you could see the hints of hazel. She watched from the horse, never feeling more like an outsider.
But that only lasted a short while.
The hesitance, the discomfort, caution all sank back in as the reality that he had found his brother who hadn’t been in danger at all settled in.
They’d offered them food. The soup from the older couple had reawakened her taste buds after months of eating questionably aged canned goods or whatever small animal they’d managed to kill. Her mouth practically flooded at the warmth of the meal put in front of them.
She knew how they looked. Ellie barely breathed, she was shoveling food into her mouth so fast and even Joel was having a hard time, standing on the border of looking respectable and desperately sating the hunger they’d felt for weeks. She didn’t bother and had long since given up caring about what looked respectable. But that didn’t stop her from eyeing their hosts, keeping track of everyone around them, feeling the eyes on their backs.
Tommy hadn’t outright questioned Ellie or her presence but there was a hint of one towards her when he introduced himself. A prodding that made her itch as to what her relationship was with the gruff man next to her and the kid between them.
“I keep the kid safe,” was the answer. Nothing more, nothing less. She had joined them because of Ellie and Joel had made it clear he let her come along because of Ellie’s attachment. It hadn’t been his choice exactly. But there was no need to delve further into her and Joel’s connection.
They’d butt heads from the start and continued to even after that night where he’d helped her relax to sleep, making her come on his fingers and then on him, and then subsequently had done so frequently after in the small private moments they could get. There was hardly anything gentle between them. They weren’t anything.
She watched his back and he watched hers, both dragging each other along through life against the other's wishes.
She knew about Tess. Ellie had caught her up, told her of the smuggler who had been Joel’s partner and how she was no longer around. In the spaces between her words, she could see exactly what Tess had been to Joel and how that role, in a way, had switched to her reluctantly. Someone to have his back, help release the tension and satisfy that need for another person even if it was only through sex and her presence. But the woman whose ghost lingered had been smart, calculated, using Joel as a battering ram rather than get her own hands dirty but wasn’t against doing so.
That wasn’t her. She wasn’t clever. She was nothing but instinct and claws and rage.
So often it was Joel pulling her back, leashing her, telling her what to do even while she gnashed her teeth even at him. It was him in control. She was a weapon but somehow one he so often didn’t want to use. He yelled at her for her recklessness, for each scrape and bruise and cut she received like it was his job to keep her safe as well as Ellie. Each morning he checked her over, making sure her weapons were in the correct spot, the straps of her bag secure, enough bullets in her cartridge.
And now, she noticed Joel’s back stiffening at her answer and the obvious lack of connection to him. Caught his eye and the furrow of his brow. They’d learned to read each other so well over the months and could communicate silently and she could see the slight flicker of anger in the line of his jaw.
Maybe it had been the wrong answer. Maybe she shouldn’t have answered at all, had put too much emphasis on Ellie or downplayed Joel’s role as the protector and escort. People weren’t her expertise and she was already on edge from there being so many of them and having Joel’s brother of all people staring down at her.
She didn’t know what she was to him, but could at least define what she was to Ellie. And that’s what she answered. She wasn’t sure why that tick of anger was on his face and wasn’t going to get into it with him while Maria was staring them down, particularly Joel.
Especially after he tried to excuse the woman, saying the conversation he wanted to have was for family. Except he didn’t excuse Ellie or her from the table as if it didn’t register that they weren’t.
Then Tommy shared the news that Maria did, in fact, fit in that category. More so than she did.
Somehow Ellie was the most cordial of the three of them, nudging Joel into congratulating them with gritted teeth. She kept eating, head down, ignoring the itch of too many eyes.
Throughout the tour of Jackson she could see the wall that had been slowly unraveling around Joel come back up. He stayed behind with his brother, brow furrowed, distance between him and the two girls with him. She watched Ellie take everything in, laughing at the sheep, loving on the horse, but her companion only seemed to withdraw more.
That silent communication they had was gone, cut off.
Maria had suggested they get cleaned up, giving the boys the opportunity to split off and catch up. Instinctually, her eyes went to Joel to see what he thought of the suggestion. They never split up, were never far from each other, and now this woman she didn’t know wanted to take her somewhere else away from him. Ellie was hesitant too, looking at the man as well.
But his eyes stayed on the ground and he walked away.
She didn’t see him for a while after being carted away by Maria.
They both took a shower, a hot shower, and the girl in the mirror staring back at her afterwards was unrecognizable. No longer a girl, but a woman in her middle age. Twenty years, come and gone. Scars, so many scars, and spots dotted her skin all over. Her eyes were a little dull and hair lackluster, a bit too long. There was a faint fading bruise on her collar bone under the stars tattooed there from where Joel’s teeth had bit days before.
Buried underneath that flesh had once been a girl who was shy and smiled at strangers for no reason and was warm. A rose, all blushing and bright, who only worried about her military family’s approval and writing down her songs in her journal. Now she was all thorns and crumbled petals. Meant to draw blood and nothing else.
She’d gotten dressed quickly before she could shatter the mirror.
Finding out about Sarah from Maria…a part of the picture that made up Joel snapped into place and things began to make sense. He was a dad, was always going to be a dad because it was engraved in him, and the young teenager traveling with them was a constant splinter in an open wound. No matter how much he pushed and yelled and raged, he always made sure Ellie was okay. She’d caught him on more than one occasion staying up to keep watch when the girl was anxious. He taught her to make a fire, how to use and take care of her gun properly, what to look out for.
Joel Miller was a dad to the very foundation of his being and he was terrified because he’d already lost one daughter.
The panic attacks were making sense.
They would flare up at the possibility of danger, of uncertainty, not for him but for them. All the close calls. After the older couple’s house. The infected that almost got her in the woods. All had triggered one and she hadn’t known why, only that she had to calm him down and be there to center him.
If anything, the knowledge made her feel more protective of him and their small group. It was a vulnerability and that meant something she had to guard it. It’s what it meant to watch each other’s backs. She didn’t miss the way Maria didn’t trust him and accused him of being a bad person. The things she had heard were probably no different than what she still did. Survival was ugly and Maria knew that from the bodies scattered alongside the river, but couldn’t seem to let that go for Joel.
If Maria only knew what she was capable of doing, the blood that covered her own hands. Killing meant so little to her now.
The movie theater made her skin crawl, filled with sound and laughter and too many bodies. Ellie was the one to give her permission this time, telling her she was okay to go back to the house where it was quiet. She’d fought hard with herself over that. Joel was who knows where and letting someone else watch Ellie felt like blasphemy, but her heart was in her throat and she couldn’t focus with so much sound.
So she’d gone back, huddling on the worn dusty couch with her knees against her chest, and unable to stop feeling her clean skin as if it were someone else’s. Her mind didn’t stop imagining every awful situation that could happen while she was gone.
Ellie came back first and barely managed a nod at her, mouth tightly pressed together and silent as she climbed the stairs to the room that had once belonged to another teenage girl. Another dead one. She tried not to think about that, how Ellie always seemed to inhabit the echo of another dead daughter. First Sarah and now the room’s owner.
Even for her, Ellie was an echo of her younger sister.
She understood that. Inhabiting the shadow of a dead Tess herself.
Joel came back next. He stopped, looking at her still with her knees drawn up. His face was darker, more heavy, like he had aged five years in the time she’d last seen him. Grief and pain and indecision lined the crow’s feet around his eyes and her fingers tightened, feeling like a bomb was about to drop.
“She good?” he asked in a voice that was all gravel.
“She’s whole. Upstairs in the room on the right,” she replied, eyes on the ground.
He nodded, hands on his hips, and silence took over. Joel’s presence always felt like a cold fire. She could feel where he was in the room constantly.
“You're gonna stick by her, right? Protect her?” Joel’s voice was harsh but not angry, just tired.
She frowned, brow furrowed, and looked at him fully. There was a look on his face that she had only seen during his panic attacks. Like the weight of the world was crashing down on his shoulders and he was a second from not being able to hold it up, about to be crushed from it.
“Is that really a question?”
“Just answer me, Red.”
His eyes were dark and he looked so tired and she was overwhelmed by this place. So she nodded, sighing out a simple, “Yes.”
He seemed to chew on the word, rolled it around his mind before nodding in answer, “Good.”
His steps were loud drum beats in her ears as he ascended, a door opening a bit later followed by the distant sound of Ellie and his voices.
She didn’t know if she should follow. Didn’t know if she’d be climbing into his bed that night or take the separate room on the first floor so far away from them both. Finding Joel’s brother had been the goal, was supposed to be a good thing, but all three of them only appeared to be in worse moods.
The bomb dropped a few moments later.
Ellie and Joel’s voices raising drew her from her spot on the couch and up the stairs. She could hear them arguing and hear the pain in the kid’s voice.
Joel was handing them over to Tommy.
Joel was handing both of them over.
Joel was leaving.
It felt like a limb had been chopped from her. The ghost of where it was still there, a phantom pain, but its absence felt even stronger. He was leaving them.
When he rushed out the door of Ellie’s room, he stopped abruptly at seeing her in the hallway standing stock still. The air had frozen around them dangerously, her anger a silent thing poised to strike and his own tinged in grief.
“Just like that, huh?” she bit out, face blank and voice eerily emotionless.
A muscle in his jaw ticked, teeth clenched as he spit out, “Just like that.”
He moved to go to his room across the hall but something had snapped, urging her to follow like a shark scenting blood. She slammed the door behind them and it reverberated throughout the house, enclosing them in the room together. Something like betrayal coated her tongue and in the back of her mind she wondered at it, wondered if it was her trust or the trust of the teenager across the hall.
“Are you really that fucking stupid, Miller?” she hissed at him, “She’s followed you for months and you’re just going to kick her out the door at the first chance? We were supposed to get her to the Fireflies-”
He whipped around to face her in the dark, taking an angry step towards her, “I’m sending her with Tommy! That was the job! He knows where he’s going, he can take you both, but there’s no we. Never was.”
The smile that slid onto her face was aggressive, canines showing, and he was reminded of those images of wolves snarling and licking their fangs, “Wouldn’t have pegged you as being a quitter, Tex, but glad you cleared that up.”
“What’d you think was gonna happen, Starshine? A happy fucking ending?” His tone was mocking, condescending, and it was one of the few times he used his height on her to his advantage to look down his nose, “You, me, and the girl settling down somewhere while the Fireflies cure the world?”
She had never thought that far, never allowed herself to think that far, because she hadn’t wanted to think about what the end of the journey would mean. For years it had been surviving one day to the next, long term plans were meaningless. But she knew enough that she wasn’t ready for this to be over and it made her angry.
Because Tommy wasn’t Joel. Tommy was good and cared about being good and that wasn’t her.
Joel chuckled bitterly, “You that girl’s protector? Then go protect her with Tommy. It ain’t got nothing to do with me. Jobs done.”
“So that’s it?” her fists were clenched so hard her nails made cuts in her skin, “You pass her off and leave me with your brother and simply walk away? Wipe your hands clean of us?”
“You don’t get to be bitter, it was your choice to come along and watch that girl,” Joel put his hands on his hands, teeth grinding, “That’s what you wanted. I didn’t ask you to join us. I didn’t want you.”
She huffed a laugh, mouth twisted in a bitter smile, “That’s ironic.”
His features darkened and she knew she was touching something they didn’t talk about out loud. They never really discussed those moments in the dark, acting like they didn’t happen during the day and especially around Ellie. But they’d happened. Over and over again.
“What? You think because I put my dick in you this means something? You ain’t-”
“Tess?”
In the darkness of the room, the walls felt like they were pressing into them. Both their rage filled the space around them and settled in the air but she could almost see the heat coming off of him. She knew it was dangerous grounds, especially after the conversation with Ellie, but this was it. This was the last bit between her and Joel Miller and if he was making her hurt, she wanted to hurt him right back.
His nose wrinkled, voice low and quiet as he hissed out, “You shut the fuck up if you know what’s good for you.”
Joel was so close, almost nose to nose, but spitting mad and muscles tense. She almost wanted him to hit her, give her an excuse to fight him and deal with this invisible pain she was feeling and didn’t know how to cope with. It hurt. Him leaving them hurt and she hated that he had somehow managed to wound her without even trying.
“You’re right, Tex,” she spit the words out like they were covered in blood, “This didn’t mean anything. I didn’t ask for you. It was you that crawled into my bed.” A laugh left her as if mocking him would make her feel better, “This how you want it to be? Fine. But don’t you lie and say that girl means nothing to you because that’s a pile of shit no one is going to swallow.”
His eyes were black in the darkness, but she could feel them as he snarled, “We’re done.”
With a smile that was more a grimace and rage lining her face, she backed up, “Fine. Have fun in that hole you’re going to sink into, Miller.”
The door shook as she slammed it behind her, pausing to breathe in the space of the hallway between both rooms. She was shaking. From anger, pain, sadness, adrenaline, she wasn’t sure, but she stared down at her hands as they shook unsteadily and the tiny cuts shone red with blood.
He was making a mistake. She knew that but words weren’t her forte, violence was, so it was hopeless to try and convince him otherwise.
The ghosts of Joel Miller’s past loved ones had haunted them for so long, she should have known he would choose them in the end. That didn’t keep the reality of it from hurting any less.
She knocked softly on Ellie’s door, opening it upon hearing her tentative reply.
They didn’t speak. Ellie only silently scooted over on the bed, giving her some of her space. In the darkness of the room, she tried to ignore the pain in her chest and hold onto the rage she felt. Because it was better than feeling the alternative, than acknowledging the feeling of abandonment.
When the young girl curled into her and held her tightly that night, she didn’t say anything about it later or when she felt her shoulders shake quietly. She simply held her back and tried to ignore the empty space on her left where Joel usually occupied.
______________________
Feral Tag List:
@alouise20
(Gif Credit Joel-Miller)
Joel Miller x fem!reader
The Last of Us (Show/Game)
1.4k Words (3rd POV)
Summary: It takes her a while to see what’s happening to him. Joel is having a panic attack.
(I’ve never written so fast but had to after watching ep 6!!)
It happened twice before she realized what it was.
Joel Miller x f!Reader
The Last of Us
3.2k Words/ 3rd POV
Feral Reader Masterlist
Summary: The first time there was an excuse, the second time was just about release.
(If you’ve read the other stories, this would take place after Monsters/Teeth in the timeline. Have a little smut fic to make up for all the angst I’ve been writing.)
Warning: Explicit sexual content (18+ Minors DNI)
“ With just a little taste of wasting time
Looking for honey
But she stings like she means it
She’s mean and she’s mine “
It’d been a hard day.
Joel Miller x f!Reader
(Feral Reader as you’ve all lovingly called her)
The Last of Us (show/game)
4.5K Words (3rd POV)
Part II to Monsters
Summary:
“Only Joel could make offering to get her off sound like a business transaction. But the intention was clear. This wasn’t intimacy, wasn’t passion boiling over, wasn’t romance. It was bodies and tactfulness and practicality.“
Warning: 18 + Minors DNI. Smut, pwp, mentions of violence, enemies to fwb, can be read standalone
Part I | Part II
Joel Miller x f!Reader
The Last of Us (show/game)
4.8K Words (3rd POV)
Summary: Two broken people clash.
“Even when he hated her presence, it stirred something deep in his belly to see her spitting and angry at the world. Like a confirmation that only the cruel survived. That if something sweet like her had turned into a monster then he shouldn’t have expected better for himself. Permission. He was justified in his edges and bitterness.”
Warning: Depictions of graphic violence
Part I | Part II
Ellie had told him that the woman had been trying to be a singer before the world went to hell. He hadn’t asked, because he never asked, but had learned it the way most information came from the young girl. Rushed and mostly to fill the silence between them when she wasn’t being entertained. He didn’t care about before because that world was over so why did it matter- who they were before- but he could see it in his mind sometimes.
For all the people requesting a jealous!Joel fic companion to Territorial 💥
Dominant
Joel Miller x Feral Reader
The Last of Us
3.6k Words/ 3rd POV
Feral Reader Masterlist
Summary: Jealous and rational don't mix.
Warning: Explicit sexual content. 18+ Minors DNI
Joel knew Red was trying hard to be a part of the community. And he was proud of her, proud of all the progress she had made, excluding a few setbacks but some of them weren’t her fault.
She was a different person when other people were around or when she was outside the walls of their house. She’d always been quick to argue with him, could easily chat with Ellie, and late at night they’d talk about whatever came to mind in hushed whispers between cooling sheets. Outside though, it was hard for her to speak a full sentence easily, much less a whole conversation. She growled more often than not, glared constantly, most of the time wouldn’t even respond at all. She talked clearest when she was angry.
He never thought he’d be the more talkative person in a relationship, but here they were.
So he was surprised to see her talking to someone else. Was even more surprised when he saw her talking to them multiple times.
Noah worked at the wood mill some times and on the construction crew when they needed him. Joel had worked with him a few times, the most recent being the second water tower they were building, but he was more focused on the job than making friends. The guy was younger than him, brighter, sometimes a little cocky. Eager to please and overconfident.
Which is why he was confused Red of all people was talking to him.
She was quick to push people away that tried to approach her. It was something they were working on, but she had only a small, small circle of people that she was mildly comfortable with and only them. Noah was not in that circle. Noah didn’t work in the kennels or do patrol consistently, the two places Red would be around other people most. She didn’t go to the food halls, she didn’t go to the monthly Jackson get-togethers, and she wasn’t a part of the welcoming committee.
But there she was, arms crossed, nodding to whatever Noah was saying outside one of the community scrap heaps. Joel chewed on his lip, brow furrowed, watching intently and trying to decipher what their lips were saying from a distance. The younger guy was talking a bit rapidly, head bobbing, with his eyes focused on her with a small smile. And she nodded back, twisting the rubber band around her wrist, before replying.
There was no stutter. He watched her mouth and the way they formed words. Joel had watched that mouth more times than he would care to admit and knew her patterns. No stutter.
Something in his gut tightened and his frown deepened.
When their conversation ended, Noah laughed at something and waved goodbye. Red turned and started to walk away, her eyes on the ground and lip between her teeth when she caught sight of him across the way. They always could feel when the other was around, a sense developed over the months traveling. Like two magnets.
Joel was leaning against one of the walls and didn’t look away as she headed over, his arms crossed tight across his chest. The weather was in that state where it didn’t know if it wanted to be cold or warm and the flannel shirt he had on was rolled up to the elbows, her own unbuttoned and hanging loose over an undershirt. He was sure that was his shirt as well.
“Hey,” she greeted him and he wanted to drink in the softness in her voice that was only for him and Ellie.
He nodded back and instantly the words were out of his mouth before he could process them, “What were you up to?” It didn’t sound accusatory, thankfully, it was luckily more curious in tone but for some reason it filled him with anxiety seeing her talking to another man easily. One that was younger and attractive.
Red’s eyes met his briefly then averted as she shrugged, “Just kennel stuff.” No further explanation. He knew when she was lying and the anxiety tightened.
But pushing Red was like moving an immovable wall sometimes and he wasn’t going to keep at it when there was no reason to push. It would piss her off and the last thing he needed was a faceoff after the long morning he had dealing with Tommy and the construction crew.
So he let it go, walking with her back home, his hand in her back pocket.
That night the thoughts surged back to life.
The anxiety and tiny hints of fear were on his tongue and he tried to bury them in her skin. Hands fisting in her hair as he pulled her head to the side and left a trail of bruises along her neck, sucking and licking his way to the stars tattooed on her collarbone. He remembered the first time he got to kiss that very spot, how he had been picturing it even when they snapped at each other. The memory twisted and turned into a need to show her exactly what he could do to her, how he could make her feel.
It wasn’t quite worshiping. He wasn’t a beggar at her altar. No, that wasn’t them.
She was his and it was a reminder, a hand on her neck to show her where she belonged. That they were blood and death and teeth and needed each other and the other men were too soft skinned for her. They’d try to tame her and he wanted her as she was.
His hands were large on her and he gripped her tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs and pulling her wet core to his mouth. Joel devoted all his focus to making the rise of her breath hitch, to pulling a symphony of moans from her mouth as she squirmed against his tongue. He licked and sucked every ounce of fight from her, having her panting and thrusting into his mouth. She came hard and even then, he didn’t let up, growling at her when her hands tried to bat him away and only shoving his palm against her stomach to hold her down and in place.
The second orgasm exploded out of her and he watched as her back arched off the bed, memorizing the way the moon glistened on her sweat soaked body.
He fucked her hard, his name spilling from her mouth in a chorus, urging him on. He relished in the sound of it. And when he came and spilled into her, both of them heaving and warm bodies clinging together, he hoped he was branded into her skin the way she was burned into him.
It was a hiccup, a small moment of jealousy over nothing, and he drowned it out. She was his.
It flared back to life after seeing Noah talking to her at the kennels.
Maggie the mama dog was loose and trotting around at their feet happily, free from her needy pups, while Red talked to him. His hand would come down and pat the dog as he nodded along to whatever she was telling him. She seemed confident, focused, and it twisted something to see her interacting with someone else like that. Part of him argued that he should be proud of her, that this was what they wanted. The other part wanted to rip the guy’s eyes out for even looking at her.
Something hot and tight flared in his chest, pressing against his lungs, and he couldn’t keep himself from heading over, footsteps heavy and brow pinched together.
Her words faltered as she caught sight of him and that coil in his chest tightened a bit more.
Maggie wagged her tail and hopped around him, excited to see someone she interacted with often. Joel wanted to seem casual, wanted to not seem like the jealous asshole boyfriend-partner-whatever he was. But seeing her next to Noah again with her hair up, neck a long naked slope, worn jeans clinging to her thighs, made him all too aware how good she looked. And he was sure others had noticed that as well.
The soft, “Hey” she greeted him with was muffled in his head as he walked up to her and instead of greeting her normally, he pulled her into a hard kiss. His hand was on her cheek, tilting her head up, while his other found its spot in her back pocket, squeezing her backside through the jeans. He was never into PDA, had never kissed her in public, but this was less about them and more about the clear message he was sending to Noah. She was his.
She bit down on his lower lip, not too hard, but clear in its own message. A warning.
Joel pulled away and didn’t meet her eyes, could feel the suspicion burning into his face from her gaze as he turned and looked at Noah. “What’s going on here?” He tried to keep his voice calm and level, more interested than prying, but he knew he was scowling.
Noah was hardly ever intimidated by him when they worked but knew what to avoid to keep from getting glared at. Now he looked nervous and Red’s gaze had swiveled back to look at him, trying to communicate something Joel wasn’t sure about. Lips pressed together tightly, the younger guy shook his head, hands slightly raised, “Nothin’ much! Just going over some uh…stuff here. Uh, I’ll catch you later, Red.”
When he went to scurry off, Maggie tried to follow a bit as if curious as to where one of her friends was going. Red only let out a sharp whistle and the dog came back immediately to her feet. She had the dogs trained to a tee.
Her brow was lowered and she pulled away from him, heading back inside the kennels without a word. Joel sighed, knowing he was heading into a fight and that tightness in his chest growing, and followed after while closing the large doors behind him.
“You wanna tell me what that was about?” he asked roughly and watched as she let Maggie back into her pen, picking up the puppies that were trying to escape and gently pushing them back in.
“You first,” she grunted and headed to the back area where the supplies were kept, “That was new.” The statement was accusatory, questioning, almost mocking. The dogs hopped and whined as she passed, vying for her or Joel’s attention, and potentially sensing the growing tension in the room.
Joel grit his teeth and shook his head, “I didn’t like how he was looking at you-”
“So you shoved your tongue down my throat?” she scoffed and turned around to face him, lips twisted down in a frown.
“You haven’t complained before,” he dryly commented as if to brush it off, closing in on her until they stood close together.
She quirked a brow and let out an unamused laugh, “Miller, people are intimidated by you enough without you throwing your dick around. He’s just doing a job for me.” He wanted to believe her, but the tiny signs were still there that she wasn’t being completely truthful. And it burned deep into him because she hardly ever lied to him before. She was direct in what she would and wouldn’t talk about, would dodge around what she couldn’t answer truthfully. But lying wasn’t done often and it didn’t quell the tightening in his chest.
He continued to walk forward, her own position unyielding and refusing to step back, until he was chest to chest with her, “Just a job, huh? One you haven’t mentioned before and won’t talk about? You hidin’ something, Starshine?”
Her smile had an edge, teeth bared, and she raised her head chin to face him head on, “What do you want me to say? That I’m sucking his dick behind the back of the building in my spare time? That I let him fuck me when you aren’t looking? What, Tex?”
Joel’s hand came up and gripped her chin tightly, the other finding its spot on her hip and squeezing the flesh bruisingly. It was so easy to slip back into being rough with each other, for their touches to turn hard and painful, but they never shied away from it. Her eyes had darkened, lust and fury in them, and he could feel it echoed back, “I know you’re not. But it doesn’t mean he’s not imagining it. He needed to know to keep his eyes to himself. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she hissed out sarcastically.
Memories of a darkened store out there in the wild, of those very words, hit him from months before and then his mouth was on hers again. She didn’t fight him, only kissed him back hard enough their teeth clacked and her tongue was instantly in his mouth. In a way, this was a different form of fight. Both of them trying to get the upper hand, dominating one another.
He backed her up until she met the edge of the work table, items clattering all over the tabletop as her ass hit the wood. Breaking from her mouth, he spun her around and bent her over roughly, his hand spread out over the base of her spine and taking in the curve her body splayed out before him. Fingers moved her hair out of the way so he could press open mouth kisses along the back of her neck, pulling her shirt collar down to continue their exploration. His hips were firmly against her ass and she shifted, pressed back into him and his clothed erection. Joel groaned into her skin and bit off a curse, hands quickly moving around to find the buttons of her jeans.
It was all a rush, her jeans yanked down her thighs while he went to unbuckle his own. Sometimes he missed the dangerous hectic pace of being out beyond Jackson’s walls. The quick moments they’d find together in the dark, harsh and fast and so aware of the peril that could find them. It had been exciting and even if he liked the safety of Jackson, a part of him would always crave that danger. It was partially what drew him to her.
Her nails gripped the table and he grunted, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants and hand finding the soft folds between her legs. Fuck, she was already wet and he enjoyed the moans in her chest as his fingers slid around her clit, covering her in her own arousal. He was already so hard, rubbing his dick along her core and letting her coat him.
“Fuck,” she whispered into the tabletop, forehead pressing into it.
“Come on, darlin’, haven’t even gotten to that part yet,” he chuckled. His hands dug into the bare skin of her hips, feeling the small marks and scars there, savoring the texture. Sometimes in the mornings he’d skim his fingers over the bruises he would leave there, evidence of him left behind on her skin.
He slid into her so easily, like she was welcoming him home. Warm and tight and Joel almost groaned at the feeling. She pushed her hips into him until he was fully seated in her, demanding, and he shook his head at her need to still be in control even when he had her bent over a table at his mercy.
She felt like heaven every single time. Soft and hot on the inside, all teeth and armor on the outside. Fuck, if she wasn’t gorgeous. A well crafted blade, sharp but enticing. Something everyone wanted and couldn’t have for fear they’d be cut. But everyday he slid his finger along her edge and welcomed the blood she brought to the surface with a bare touch. He’d let her cut him a thousand times over just to have her.
Joel gave her what she wanted- demanded in that silent way of hers. Fingers gripping, he slid in and out of her slowly before driving into her hard and rough. He branded her skin with his scent, his touch. She wouldn’t choose someone else, he knew that, but it was hard to see that clearly when so many things had been taken away. He’d let so many things slip away out of his fingers because he didn’t hold on tight enough. He wouldn’t do that with her. He would shackle himself to her and hold on with all his might because he wouldn’t lose her.
All of his fears and desperations drove into her with each thrust and he was lost in the feeling. Bending down over her, he clasped one hand around hers as it gripped the table's edge, able to tell from the hitch in her breathing and the way she was tightening around him that she was close to her breaking point.
“Come on, baby, let yourself go,” he hummed into her ear and felt her fall apart in answer, defiance gone. He pumped into her through her orgasm, coaxing her through its end and feeling the pressure build inside himself as she tightened around his cock. Release came soon after and he groaned into the space between her shoulders, their hair mingling together as his body draped over her.
They were both panting, boneless and sweaty on top of the table as the world came back into focus. The smell of the hay and stables, the dirt on the floor, the whines of the dogs. The fact this was still a public spot. She cursed softly and with a more pained groan this time, he pulled out of her.
It was hard to walk, but he managed to find a clean cloth and water not far away and cleaned her up carefully, listening to her hitch in breath when he slid the fabric along her sensitive center. He was the one to pull up her pants for her after tucking himself away and buckling his own. She stood up and leaned against the table, watching him as he set about silently fixing her jeans and righting her clothes.
There was a nervousness in him that he wasn’t sure about. As if exposing that he’d been jealous was exposing a raw nerve. She wasn’t extremely younger than him, but he was aware of all his faults. His hearing, the way he was slowing down, his age. She’d never blinked an eye at any of it but there were other options now in Jackson. And as much as he tried to tell himself that she wasn’t the type to go looking, he still knew there was a 1% chance that she would.
“Feel better?” she asked huskily, hands resting on the edge of the table.
“Not really,” Joel sighed, hip cocked out with his fingers in his belt loops, staring down at the dirt floor.
They didn’t say anything for a second before she sighed and crossed her arms, “He’s building a craft table for you.”
Well that certainly shocked him back into awareness, “What?”
She scowled, obviously miffed about having to reveal it to him, and raised a brow, “Surprise.”
“What do you mean he’s building a craft table for me?” Joel repeated with a heavy set brow. That feeling in his chest tightened, released as if letting out a deep sigh, before tightening back up.
But she only shrugged, “Exactly what I said. That’s the job I asked him to do. He’s trading for one of the puppies when they’re big enough, but he’s collecting any spare tools he can find along with some books on woodworking and guitar building for you. I figured we could try and fix that broken guitar that we had come across a few miles south. Ta-da.”
Joel could only stare as the words sank in, face frozen in a hard frown as he struggled to process her words. It was all said so monotone and he could tell she had wanted to wait to tell him about it. She was annoyed. All he could get out was, “You know those puppies technically aren’t yours?”
She shrugged again with a roll of her eyes, “Community puppies. I’m trading with the community. Same thing. And please don’t scowl and run him off when he delivers the damn table to the house. I really don’t want to have to try and approach another new person anytime soon and start this whole process over again. Tommy had to help introduce me the first time and I’ve had to listen to Noah talk constantly. It’s honestly awful.”
He almost laughed at the uncomfortable look that crossed her face and mentally noted that Tommy had known about this project and never told him. He’d have to have a word with his little brother about next time maybe finding her help that was a lot older and not good looking.
Joel chewed on his lip, sighing, feeling the guilt start to take hold. She was watching him expectantly and he shook his head, avoiding her eye contact, “I guess I should say sorry.”
“You guess?”
“I am sorry,” he grunted, hands on his hips and kicking the dirt underneath his foot, “I might have overreacted.”
She raised a brow at that again but said nothing, only looking skyward in silent prayer, “And just for your information, not that it matters, but Noah has a partner he won’t shut up about. He definitely likes to bark up a different kind of tree.”
When the information sunk in, she finally did laugh at the look on his face and pushed herself off the table, looping her arm through his. He didn’t reply and only let himself sink deeper in the hole he had made. She seemed okay with letting that be his punishment.
The table was delivered a week later and Joel forced a smile on his face and tried not to appear too guilty as Noah left, hearing Red laughing from behind the screen door as he did so.
