#mjl.recs

[loversdomain]

picture this, little old me just sitting at home whil my phones on charge, EUREKA! i have not yet blessed my eyes and heart with heartpascals recent fic, i shall get on this right now!

suddenly as the fic goes on, my jaw drops more and more as i realise: i am a fool. i am the biggest fool of all the fools. this is an angst fic, i have condemned myself to pure depression at the hands of a platonic joel fic crafted by my fav joel writer. tears are falling as i finish and i am left DISTRAUGHT.

heartpascal you never cease to amaze and entertain!!! your fics are so beautifully written, it never feels like im just passively reading, you genuinely write in such a way that is so perfectly descriptive that it feels like im there actually experiencing it. genuinely you are so talented wnd one of the best!! hope ur days going well babs and take your time!!!!

if the door wasn’t shut

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: months of travelling with joel and ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.

▹— a/n: i don’t like the second half of this one D: but i made you guys wait long enough so i apologise!!! been super busy so this is v rushed but i hope you enjoy nonetheless

▹— warnings: angst, loss of loved ones, tlou ep 5/6 spoilers, father figure joel, reader is really scared, not proofread

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Had you known that those days in Boston QZ would’ve been the last peaceful ones for a long time, you think you might’ve treasured them more. Held them closer, let the edges sharpen when you thought of them, rather than seeing only blurred images, the memories faded.

You wouldn’t have believed it if somebody had told you. The life you lived in Boston was flawed, at best, but it was your life. Filled with violence and bloodshed, sure, but there were things you could control. Things that Joel and Tess had always made sure you could control.

Out in the wide world, the facade of control that the two adults had always kept up crumbled to dust in your hands, lost to Infected and hunters and shelters in the strangest places.

It was a difficult shift in your reality, and you tried to hide it from Joel. He had already given you so much, hell, he and Tess had provided you with a home, even when they had no obligation to do so. You owed them more than your life.

When you had met Ellie, you immediately disliked her. She grated on you, her biting words and humorous comments doing nothing but fueling your growing dislike of her. She was childish — she acted her age, showed her fear, and it was something you just couldn’t understand. You were far too used to closing down the emotion behind your eyes, to shutting away all of your baggage in a box deep in your mind.

It had worn you down, eventually. Hating her was much harder than you expected it to be, especially when she looked at you for the understanding she knew you possessed. You even watched as Joel softened up to her, far faster than he had done with you, and you couldn’t help but follow in his example, as you always tried to do.

Hushed conversations when following Joel’s tense figure, something young passing over you, something that had seemed so… far away. You had always thought that bonds like this could only exist in the world before your own, trust Ellie to prove you wrong.

But one gained friendship didn’t quite make up for all the losses. It was Tess, to start with. Something that had singed your lungs and left you breathing the smoke, something of choked words leaving you when she had revealed the bite on her shoulder. She had looked at you, that understanding passing through her eyes, grief for a life she wouldn’t get to live. You understood the gaze far more than you wanted to, and you knew that the burns scarring your insides wouldn’t fade for a very long time.

Then, it was finding out that Bill and Frank were gone.

It seemed wrong. Something so untouchable, so guarded, how could it possibly be gone? You couldn’t understand it, couldn’t understand how the few people you valued seemed to be dropping away before your very eyes, faster than you could even reach for them.

The journey seemed pointless to you, after that.

Though you felt for Ellie, that selfishness that had always been drilled into you rushed in, drowning out the empathy towards her cause. It left you with something empty inside of your chest, and you couldn’t figure out a way to fill it. You weren’t sure you wanted to.

It only got worse.

Warm days turned colder, the nights going to something nearby freezing, and then there was the events of Kansas City. You had been so sure Joel was going to die, that you and Ellie would follow soon after, that you couldn’t move. Your legs seemed frozen to the spot, and even as you heard the struggle in the other room, it didn’t quite register.

It was only when Ellie managed to get Joel through to the room you were hidden in that you managed to snap out of your fear-induced haze. Your eyes were cloudy, and after that, it was so hard to focus.

You and Ellie had found some comfort when Sam showed up alongside his older brother, Henry. They were a breath of fresh air in the hellscape of a city, and for once, you witnessed true childhood. Saw it in the way Sam scribbled on his board, in the way he laughed at whatever Ellie had written on it. It was contagious, almost.

That was probably the happiest you had been since leaving Boston, and it all fell apart so quickly. Like the first sparks of a fire squandered by the downpour of a storm.

You can’t even remember much of it. Not the big parts, anyway. You remember the little things, like the colour of Sam’s hoodie, or the splinters you got from the floorboards as you fell backwards, scrambled away from the only semblance of childhood you’d ever had. You remember looking to Henry, something in your chest begging to be let out, but choking on it before it could escape. Your remember the sound of something splattering against the wall, and you remember Joel touching your arm after the burial.

Everything was blurring together, but one thing stood out; that overwhelming fear that threatened to sweep you away with every sound you heard, every flash of movement in darkness, every loss you witnessed.

Each day it became harder to shake away the haze to your eyes, harder to feel something other than scared, harder to close that box in your brain and leave those big feelings in there. It became so prevalent, all of it weighing you down, pressing tightly against your shoulders, and somewhere along the line you knew that Joel and Ellie had noticed.

Whether it was your withdrawn behaviour, or the gaping hole ripped into your chest, you weren’t entirely sure. But they knew. Perhaps not to the extent that you believed them to, but they knew something wasn’t quite right.

And now it was the cold threatening to take the three of you — it was freezing the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, and you really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. It had been months since Henry and Sam, but it felt like it had been both no time at all, yet so far away. Everything still felt so raw, so fresh, despite time passing as normally as ever.

Joel had somehow managed to find winter supplies for the three of you, consisting of a coat and gloves, a hat that you let Ellie take. It was enough to keep you all alive, but it didn’t stop the chill seeping into your very bones, making it feel all the more harder to keep going.

It got to the point where you just didn’t want to. Couldn’t.

“Come on,” Joel said, your name falling from him as he patted your shoulder, all of his supplies already packed up, “Time to go.”

Getting up seemed impossible, so you didn’t. Just let your eyes glaze over and watched as Joel and Ellie grabbed their weapons, glancing outside of the cabin you’d taken refuge in. Joel looked back to you, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you hadn’t packed up any of your things, hadn’t even moved.

He looked at Ellie, frowning when she noticed, too. He made his way over, crouching down with aching knees, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Kid, we gotta get moving.” Joel said, shaking your shoulder the slightest to gather your attention. You just looked at him, shaking your head. “C’mon. We don’t have time for this.”

“I don’t wanna go anymore, Joel.” You told him, finally admitting the words that sounded so much like defeat. You hated that the world had won, but you were so tired of fighting that you just couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lose.

Joel shook his head, eyebrows creasing, an expression close to dumbfounded crossing his face. He couldn’t understand.

“We’re closer than we’ve ever been!” Ellie said encouragingly, the biggest smile she could muster on her face. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in her direction, instead looking down to where your fingers pulled at the loose threads on your sleeping bag.

“I can’t,” You said, much closer to tears than you had even realised. “I can’t keep doing this. Joel, I wanna go home.”

His frown just deepened, uncertainty present in every feature on his face. Joel didn’t know how to handle this, and there really wasn’t that much time to do so.

“Kid…” He sighed, before sitting down properly beside you with a pained breath.

“No, Joel, I— I want to go back. I want all of this to go away. I want Tess.” You admitted, heart pounding so hard just at the mention of the woman you had lost, and it was painful. Your chest aches the more you thought about it, and there was the realisation that you were homesick. Though you weren’t sure if that’s as for Boston, or for Tess.

“There is no goin’ back, kiddo. Tess… she’s gone. Nothin’ we can do about it.” Joel said, taking a moment to steady the shake in his voice after saying her name. It was just as painful for him as it was for you.

“I’m… I’m scared.” You confessed, voice barely a whisper, but it echoed around the empty walls of the cabin. The confession almost scared Joel, he knew you preferred to keep everything locked tightly, never admitting to the fear he knew was there. “All the time,” You continued, lips trembling around the words, “And it’s all I can think about. I can’t keep doing this. Every time we meet something I just get so scared, I can’t move, can’t speak.”

“It’s okay to be scared—” Joel tried.

“No, it’s not! It’s like I’m frozen, and every time, I lose someone. I can’t watch you guys die. I can’t do it.” You cut him off, the tears falling from your eyes as you looked at Joel.

He couldn’t do much more than frown, unsure how he could fix something like this. He knew the feeling more than you could imagine, so familiar it was the clearest thing he could remember. Joel had felt this way for years, but he was an adult. He had people relying on him, he couldn’t shut down in the way he knew you wanted to.

“We’re not gonna die,” Joel said, hesitantly. It was stupid to make promises in this world, especially when danger and the unknown lurked around every corner. “We’re all goin’ to be just fine. Listen to me, kid, we’re gonna get this done, and then we’re all gonna find somewhere, no infected, and we’ll just live. But we need to get through this, first.”

You shook your head, turning away from him, and he glanced to where Ellie stood, the guilt flooded onto her face.

“You two listenin’?” Joel asked, beginning to pick up your things and shove them into your backpack. “We’re getting close now. It’s almost over. Got nothin’ to worry about.”

“He’s right,” Ellie said, quietly, passing Joel something to put in your bag. “Let’s just get this over with.”

They packed up your things around you, Joel grabbing your arms to help you to your feet, and Ellie linked arms with you as soon as you were up. Together, they managed to get you out of the cabin, back out into the cold.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You had been so sure that one of you was going to die when the people on horses showed up, guns trained on each of you in turn. You thought it was going to be Joel when he shoved you and Ellie behind him, his head spinning around, taking count of the people who were a danger to you.

Then, they brought out their dog, and your heart stopped when they directed it towards Ellie. It was going to be her, you were almost sure of it, thought that it would get a whiff of something from the bite scarred over her forearm.

You held your breath for a long time, not able to let it go even when the dog settled, playing happily with Ellie. Surely, these people would shoot you, regardless. They certainly didn’t seem very friendly.

But no, they were taking you back to their town, with you and Joel sharing a horse while Ellie rode on her own. You’d never ridden on a horse, and before, you may have enjoyed the experience, but you could only feel that suffocating fear that made you choke on your words, so scared that these people were taking you to their town just to kill you. Or worse. You’d heard of people who do worse.

You couldn’t get the words out to express your concern to Joel, forced to stay silent and cling on to him as the three of you made your way past the walls, surrounded by strangers. You shared a look with Ellie, that nervous understanding shared between the two of you once more.

Your fingers twitch, aching to wrap around your gun, but that was the first thing these people had taken. Then it was your knife. And then the axe Joel had you storing in the side of your bag. It didn’t help that helpless feeling, that fear clogging your throat.

Joel’s tense frame loosens suddenly, something like relief sinking into his bones as he shouts, “Tommy!” A man immediately looking up from where he was stood atop of some scaffolding. Joel slides off of the horse, handing the reigns to you, before meeting his brother halfway in a tight hug.

Ellie frowns, and you understand the furrow to her brows as you looked at Joel and his brother. He was all the two of you had.

The two of you stick together as you follow Joel to wherever his brother is leading the three of you, sharing nervous glances and only just about relaxing when you’re seated with hot meals in front of you.

You did your best to tune as much of the conversation out as possible, even ignoring Joel’s comment about slowing down, as you shoved as much food as you could into your mouth while the opportunity was there. After all, who knew how long this would last?

Ellie kicked your leg when Tommy mentioned about a tour, the two of you reluctantly leaving your plates behind to follow the three adults. Maria went on with her touring speech, talking about when and how they settled in the town, with Tommy pitching in about the shared resources. It was only when she talked about separating you and Ellie from Joel that your attention was really caught.

“Joel.” You said, urgency in your voice, a pleading look sent his way as he wrung his hands together, his brother already heading in his direction.

“You’ll be fine.” He said to you and Ellie, nodding in your direction and missing the look of defeat you and Ellie shared as he walked away.

“Shall we?” Maria asked, looking between you and Ellie. She was half-turned away already, but caught the way you both gazed nervously at Joel’s turned back. The two of you nodded, following behind her as she made her way through the town, clearly as familiar to her as the back of her hand.

Ellie answered all of Maria’s idle questions whilst walking alongside her, though her answers were slightly withdrawn. It comforted you, even the slightest bit, to know that you weren’t the only one who was feeling distrustful towards this place. That you weren’t the only one on edge.

Maria opened the door to the house you, Ellie and Joel were meant to be staying in, swatting a hand in front of her face as dust rose up from the untouched surfaces.

“Homely.” Ellie commented, stepping around Maria to peek into the living room, and then the kitchen, whilst you remained beside the door with Maria.

“It’s not much, but it’ll keep you warm. And it’s got running water.” Maria said, despite this being more than any of you had had in a very long time. She smiled tightly at you, head dipping as she looked around. “Make yourselves at home.”

“When do I get my gun back?” You asked, probably the most you had spoken since your slight… outburst at the cabin, just a few days prior.

“Kids ‘round here aren’t armed. Nobody is.” Maria answered, eyebrows creased as she looked at you.

“Right, well I’m not a part of your commune, or whatever, so I want back what’s mine.” You replied, with more heat to the words than would’ve been considered respectful. You couldn’t really find it in yourself to care, though, because how were you meant to defend yourselves if you had no weapons? Especially considering Maria clearly didn’t want Joel here, and by extension, you and Ellie.

Maria sighed, a slight exhale from her nose, and you stepped away from her, looking towards Ellie, who stared right back at you with something nervous in her gaze. “We’ll talk about all this later, okay? How about you guys go take a shower, and I’ll grab you some new clothes.”

Ellie nodded, practically leaping up the stairs, and you heard doors slamming open until she finally found the bathroom, yelling an: “Aha!”

“There’s just the one shower in this house, but if you wanna have one now, mine and Tommy’s house is just across the street.” Maria offered, kindly.

“I’d rather wait.” You replied, voice snappier than you expected it to be, but you bounded up the stairs and flopped down in the first room you found.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Ellie had taken forever in the shower, so it was a while before you finally took your turn. As much as you hated to admit it, the warm water cleared away much of your bitterness towards this place. It felt good. Finally being clean, properly clean, after going so long living off of what little you could take when travelling across the country. You hadn't had a shower like this since Bill and Frank’s — and you hated thinking of it.

Maria had been around earlier, bringing two piles of clothes hanging in each arm, dumping them on the bed outside of the bathroom Ellie had been showering in. You hadn’t acknowledged her, so she had nodded and left quickly.

You didn’t exactly enjoy feeling like you owed anybody anything, but you had to admit that slipping on the clean clothes that Maria had left felt good. Wearing the long sleeved t-shirt underneath a thick jumper was probably the warmest you’d been in a long time, not that you would’ve admitted that to anybody.

The small part of you that had been numbed for the past few weeks began to thaw, and you felt almost embarrassed of how you had treated Maria earlier on — despite you having every right to act in such a manner. So, with a huffed breath of annoyance, you decided to follow the note the woman had left, and made your way across the street.

She had shouted to come in almost as soon as you had knocked, and you opened the door hesitantly.

The first thing you noticed was the sound of hair scissors, and it sent a pang through your chest. Then you heard Maria and Ellie chatting, and followed the noise. The chalkboard in her living room caught your eye, and you frowned as you passed by it.

“What’s going on?” You asked, eyebrows drawn together as you stepped into the room to see Ellie putting up her short hair.

“Just a trim,” Maria said, waving the scissors in her hand, “You’re up next.”

She noticed the way you tensed, drawing your arms back up towards your chest as your eyebrows furrowed further. It was defensive, the way you immediately curled in on yourself.

“No, no, I— I don’t want my hair cut.” By you were the words missing from the sentence, going unsaid but not unheard as one of your hands reached up to hold onto the too-long ends of your hair. They were splintering, and unhealthy, but you couldn’t do it.

The last person to cut your hair had been Tess — a memory you treasured, held so close that it almost hurt to think about. It was one of those things that had come naturally at the time, but felt so taken for granted once Tess was gone. You could remember the evenings so clearly, one of the only times that she allowed herself to come across as something almost maternal.

It would feel like you were betraying her, her memory, to allow someone else to take scissors to your hair. It was a job that belonged to Tess, and Tess only. You pretended it didn't hurt, the length your hair had grown. She would’ve never let it get this long.

Maria frowned, but seemed to take your defensive words and body language for a good enough answer. She placed the scissors on the counter, an act of truce, if you had ever seen one.

“Okay,” She said, hands up in surrender, before she reached to the counter and grabbed the coat that had been laid there. “Here, put this on. We’re going to the movies.”

You had no choice but to do so, tugging the coat on and resorting to holding it closed with your arms folded across your chest when your fingers trembled on the zipper. Ellie glanced at you with a frown, and checked you were following her and Maria out of the door, just huffing out a small sigh as you closed the door behind you, hurrying to catch up.

Sitting around a bunch of kids was one of the weirdest things to happen to you. You’d spent most of your life surrounded by only Joel and Tess, occasionally Bill and Frank, hell — Ellie was the first person your age that you’d really spoken to. After everything the two of you had been through, being surrounded by children felt much stranger to you than being surrounded by adults.

You could understand adults, to a certain extent. Kids… were a different story. So transfixed on the movie projected on the wall ahead, which you couldn’t understand. You felt vulnerable, sat in the middle of the room. Out of the loop, even, as adults watched and chatted around the edges of the room.

It was why you went to find Maria whilst Ellie followed Tommy out of the place, confused on why she had brought you here. “What am I meant to be doing here?” You asked her, when you finally found her standing to the side, gazing at the movie.

“We’re at the movies,” She laughed, saying your name, “You’re meant to be watching the movie.”

“Why?” You asked, incredulously, because how did this help anybody? Watching fake people in an image against the wall might’ve fascinated you, but you were nervous. Paranoid. At any moment, they could have people breaking into the town, knocking down the walls, anything… so why waste time and people watching a movie? To you, it would’ve made more sense to have more of these people stationed as guards.

“Entertainment,” Maria offered, moving from where she had been leaning against the half-wall. “Whatever you wanna call it. You’re not out in the wilderness, anymore. You’re safe. Take some time, enjoy the film.” She told you, and you hated the sympathy that she held in her gaze.

You moved to say something, but followed Maria’s gaze to see Tommy walking back through the doors. Without another word to her, you were shoving your way through the crowd and pushing the door open, back out into the cold air.

By the time you found your way to the house on Rancher Street, both doors at the top of the stairs were tightly shut. You frowned, unsure why they would’ve shut them, and made your way up to the room Ellie was in.

“Ellie?” You whispered into the darkness of the room, seeing her turned away from the door as she lay on the bed. She was still, and remained quiet. With a sigh, you closed the door and crossed the hall, opening Joel’s door with the same results.

You tiptoed back downstairs, frowning as you laid a blanket across the couch, swatting the dust that rose to the air.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Waking up to an empty house stirred the panic that you had been storing away. You felt frantic as you tumbled up the stairs, ripping the covers away from the unmade beds as if Ellie or Joel could’ve been hiding beneath them. But finding nothing just made everything so much worse, because what if you were right all along?

Anybody could’ve come into the house, caught the two of them off guard, and what could they have done? All of your weapons were taken from you, which meant no defence, and no deterrent.

You were ripping the kitchen apart before you could think to do much else, pulling drawers out and sending the dusty contents crashing to the floor. In the end, you found nothing of use — the sharp cutlery had long since been taken, leaving dust in the empty compartment that should’ve held knives.

Your last resort was the plate you had smashed against the counter, leaving a dent in the material upon impact. Blood trickled down your cheek from a minuscule cut, the result of a tiny piece of ceramic. You grabbed the sharpest piece of the plate in a gloved hand, and marched out of the front door.

Upon entering Tommy and Maria’s house, you were greeted with nothing but silence, despite the impact the door had made against the wall when you had opened it. A small piece of paper on their kitchen counter caught your eye, and you snatched it up.

Going to the stables first thing. Love you - Tommy.

The edge of the paper was crinkled, and you figured that Maria must’ve seen it already.

Your run to the stables was frantic, and not at all subtle. People stared as you practically sprinted across the town, almost slipping on patches of ice that blended in with the snow. “Slow down, girl!” Somebody had shouted at you as you passed, but you just gripped the sharp ceramic tighter, barely feeling the way it had begun to tear at your glove.

“Joel, Ellie!” You shouted, almost hysterically, as you finally saw the two of them. Ellie was already sat upon a horse, holding the reins as Joel spoke to his brother. They both turned to face you as you approached, an almost defeated look matching each other’s expressions. “What—What’s going on?” You asked, stumbling into Joel and feeling him grasp on to your shoulders to get you to finally stop.

Joel shared a look with Tommy, who looked back at him with what was almost sympathy.

“Kid, I…” He sighed, rubbing a gloved hand down his face as his speech trailed off.

“What?” You snapped, gripping the ceramic tighter.

“Listen to me,” Joel said, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he said the words. “Me and Ellie are heading to the University—”

“Let—Let me grab my bag.” You told him, trying to turn away but feeling his grip tighten before he turned you back to face him, a bracing expression on his face. He looked almost pained.

“You’re not listening!” He told you, sounding far too close to frustration. “Me and Ellie. Not you.” He repeated, watching carefully the way your furrowed eyebrows fell, something so similar to grief presenting itself in the way your whole expression fell apart.

You looked to Ellie, only to find her gaze averted, and shook your head as you turned back to Joel. “What? You’re— You’re what? Leaving me behind?”

“It’s not fair for us to ask you to—”

You cut him off, stumbling back and away from his hands, and watched as they fell from the air where they had held on to you. “It’s not fair?” You asked, trembling from something other than the cold as you looked at the only man you had ever trusted.

The ceramic in your palm fell to the ground, fibres of your glove clinging to the edges of it. Joel frowned.

“Not fair?” You repeated, at the sound of their silence. “You know what’s not fair, Joel?” You questioned, stepping forward to push your hands against his chest, feeling your chest ache when he did nothing to stop you. “Following you two, all this way, just for you to fucking abandon me!”

“We’re not abandoning you!” Ellie said, then, her voice sounding just as childish as the words did. Because if they weren’t abandoning you, what were they doing? They hadn’t even said goodbye — if it weren’t for you running out here, after waking up to find them gone, you might have never even seen them again.

“Yes, you are!” You yelled at here, feeling your throat clog up as your vision went cloudy, “And after everything…—”

You stared between them, waiting for them to have a response, but neither of them did.

“I lost everything, following you here. Everything! It’s all gone. Tess…” You trailed off, feeling tears bubble at the corners of your eyes as you said her name. It was a betrayal, more than anything. If it weren’t for this whole adventure, Tess would’ve been alive. Bill and Frank, maybe not, but Tess.

“That ain’t fair, kiddo, we—”

“None of this has been fair. None of it! And you—you were just going to fucking leave me! How’s that for fair?” You asked desperately, despite knowing that no answer they could give would be what you wanted. All of your fear over losing them, it had never considered that they may leave of their own accord.

Maria said your name, approaching from behind you, and you didn't flinch when she placed a hand on your shoulder. You missed the pain on Joel’s face at the way you allowed her to comfort you, but had moved away from his attempts. She pulled you a step back from him, and another, until she finally turned you away as your tears spilled over.

Tommy shook his head when Joel made a move to follow the two of you, and you pretended not to notice their gazes on you as they strode by.

“How could they just…” Your voice broke off at the edges, and you felt the haze to your eyes returning as you looked at Maria, the realisation that you were alone hitting you harder than any of your fear ever had. That was fear; a possibility of what could happen, whereas this… this was reality.

And your reality was that nobody loved you enough to stay.

[loversdomain]

im trying to find platonic fics while scrolling thru the tlou tag but i literally stopped and read this and OH MY GOD i love angsty fics im sorry but im not ashamed. literally so good omg

the gold. . .

▹ — joel miller x f!reader

▹ — summary: you don’t like the person joel’s become.

▹ — a/n: not my favourite writing ever :( i love this concept tho it would make such good angst!!! also i’m only part way through the game so idk if this sorta thing is really covered :’) either way, go easy on me pls <3 kinda tempted to do a pt 2 where they meet again years later via tess buuuut yk

▹ — warnings: angst, like. quite a bit of it, joel’s kinda a bad person ish, grief, arguments, (mentioned) killing, blood

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The outbreak had torn the world apart, it had torn your world apart. But then again, that was everybody’s story, anyone who managed to survive had lost everything they valued. Most people had to have the debate if survival was even worth the suffering or seemed to come pre-packaged with.

Hell, you were one of the lucky ones! You were alive, your fiancé was alive, but the two of you had lost the thing most precious to you; Sarah.

For a long time, you were convinced that you’d soon follow her footsteps, finally kick the bucket in some way or other. But miracle after miracle led to you living, with a lot of those miracles being orchestrated by Joel or Tommy. For years, the three of you looked after each other, surviving in the QZ together as best as you could. Sure, you and Joel wouldn’t be getting married, and yes, Tommy became more restless as the days went on, but you were together.

You thought that was all that mattered.

An aching that started at your chest had long since spread to the rest of your body, settling heavily in your bones and leaving you exhausted.

Tired of Joel being out all times of the night, with his newest crew of people who you couldn’t help but get chills from. Tired of Tommy refusing to cooperate with the authorities in this dystopian world that was now your reality. Tired of being the only one who was still trying to stick together, to survive together.

There was nothing worse than watching the man you love die in front of your very eyes. It was slow, at first, the grief over Sarah making everything seem minor, excusable. It made the world harder to live in, the centre of both yours and Joel’s universe now suddenly gone, and it was like you’d lost your orbit. Like you were floating in space, unsure where you were meant to be going.

Eventually, you found Joel and Tommy being the people you’d orbit. Somehow, you always came back to the shitty apartment that Joel refused to make feel anything like a home.

You were the only one who knew that this was your reality now, and you could either live in it, or you should have just died with Sarah. You wanted to live, with Joel, with his brother, who used to be your best friend.

It started when Joel finally figured out the best, most efficient, way to sneak out of the QZ without being caught.

You felt uneasy for days, unsure as to why, but when you saw Joel hammering nails into a strip of leather, you couldn’t help but feel something was very, very wrong. You knew it was a bad idea to follow him, knew you could get everyone, including Joel and yourself, caught and likely killed, but you had to know what was going on, what they were getting up to.

With your heart hammering inside your chest, you watched from a small distance away as Joel rolled out the leather strip along a road, confusion dancing across your eyebrows. It was only when you heard the distinct rev of a truck engine that you realised what he could be doing.

A man splashed with blood stepped out of the building, screaming at the people in the truck for help, for anything, and you watched as they approached him hesitantly, the truck rolling over the nails in the leather strip.

The tires screeched as all the air streamed out, the truck trying to reverse but not getting far enough as the group — Joel’s group — approached.

You turned away, hurrying back to the QZ with your stomach turning, your whole body flinching when you heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Managing to sneak back in to the QZ without being caught would’ve impressed you, had you not just witnessed a horror you almost couldn’t fathom. When you got back to your dingy apartment, you pulled open the cupboard that the weapons were kept in, and held your hand over your mouth when you saw the gun that usually sat locked in there was gone.

Your brain could barely catch up, the thought of Joel, your Joel, killing those people was strongly refuted, your own mind betraying you by conjuring up old images of domestic bliss.

Sarah’s head across your lap as you leant into Joel’s chest, one hand gently holding on to her hair, whilst your other was occupied by Joel’s own. Mornings of Joel scrambling around the house, running late as usual, whilst you and Sarah cooked breakfast together. Then, the three of you sat at the dining table, you and Sarah playfully arguing over who got shell in the pan whilst you were cooking.

The day Joel had asked you to marry him, with Sarah stood by his side, just coming up on twelve years old, her eyes so big and wide as she smiled at you. The two of them having matching expressions as they awaited your answer: a package deal, the two of them.

How could this man be the same one you lived with now? How could he hurt those people, unprompted by anybody but the shitbags he had started hanging around with? You felt sick to your stomach, like everything around you wasn’t real. Surely, you’d wake up any second, see Sarah already up and bruising her teeth. You’d go back upstairs to make sure Joel was awake, before continuing to help Sarah with breakfast. This whole outbreak thing had to be a dream, because you didn’t know what you’d do if it wasn’t.

What would you do, if the reality is that the man you love is dead? If he’s gone, twisted and darkened beyond recognition?

But that night, when Joel returned late as usual, you saw a splash of red underneath his jacket. He came in with more supplies, things you hadn’t been able to find for weeks, that miraculously turned up, he claimed. He shoved the gun back in the cupboard, locking it up as casually as you’d lock your back door.

You had no choice but to face the truth; you lost everyone the night of the outbreak. Sarah is dead, and now, clearly, so is Joel. There’s nothing left of the man you agreed to marry, not a single drop of that love reflected in his hollow eyes.

He saw you staring at him, eyes wide with what could only be horror, and snapped, “What? I got somethin’ on my face?”

“I can’t believe you— I can’t believe you!” You cried out, standing from the couch you’d been sat on since your return, awaiting his arrival anxiously. Everything within you was hoping you’d just found his doppelgänger, or something, but no. This was Joel, your Joel did this.

His eyes hardened, eyebrow casting shadows over the brown colour you remembered so fondly, “What can’t you believe now?” He scoffed out, shoving his backpack off of his shoulder and dropping it loudly on the wooden floor.

“I followed you,” you told him, watching the way his eyes widened, realisation hitting him like a ton of bricks. “I saw you, and your—your group. How could you do that? Those were people, Joel, people! Trying to survive in this hellhole just like you and me!”

Joel’s jaw clenched, “You think you know everything, huh?” He asked, sneering at you, acting as if you were an idiot, as if you were just a naive little girl who didn’t know anything about the real world.

“I’ve surely seen enough! You planned that. You helped them do that. People are dead, because of you.”

“Everybody is dead!” Joel retorted, his voice reaching the level of yelling, and he shocked even himself with his lack of restraint, the comment pulling every reservation you had from your body.

“I’m not.”

His eyes followed you as you stood, watched as your face hardened to that of stone, a look he had never seen from you. At least, not directed towards him. It filled his chest with some kind of dread, one of the first feelings besides anger and something a step further than heartbreak since Sarah had died in his arms.

You huffed, shoving past him and pretending you didn’t notice him following close on your feet. You grabbed your backpack, shoving the few clothes you wore often into it, as well as the brush you kept beside what could only be loosely referred to as your bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you, anywhere as long as it’s far, far, away from you.” You snapped at him, the bite in your words unfamiliar to him. “You think everyone is dead, but they’re not. I’m not. You’re not. This isn’t some fantasy land where bad things don’t count, Joel.”

“I’m doing what it takes to survive!” Joel counters you, his fingertips stretching in order to reach out for you, but he closes his hand into a fist before it gets close to you.

“That’s a lie, and you know it.” You tell him, unable to even look in his direction.

He sucks in a long breath, closing his eyes as he tries to remain composed. When he opens them, he sees you looking over at him, and he wished he’d kept them closed. Your eyes, which had once looked at Joel with nothing but adoration, were filled with angry tears, and you stared at him with something new, the warmth gone from your gaze.

“I get that you’re still grieving Sarah, so am I, but I would never do something like that. The you that I know? He wouldn’t either.”

Your voice was softened when you spoke, giving him this one chance to repent his sins, but the mention of his daughter sends him over the edge once more, words flying out of his mouth far before he could even think to stop them.

“You don’t get it,” he snarled, face red and matching the blood that stained his clothes, “She’s—was my daughter, not yours, you could never understand.”

You stared at him, expression unchanging even as Joel seemed to sober up, realising he might’ve gone a step too far. You could see the situation more clearly, and if he’d have listened, you would’ve told him he’d leaped across the line.

He reaches for you, trying to keep his grasp on you, but you pull away before his fingers could even graze your skin.

Joel’s face falls, but you stand firm.

“Sarah was my daughter, Joel. The closest thing I’ll ever get to having one, anyway. I certainly loved her like she was my own.” You say, his eyes falling closed as he let out a breath through his nose. “This isn’t what she would’ve wanted for you.”

You think of the little girl who looked up to Joel as if he hung the stars and moon himself, and for her, you’re sure he would have done. You stare at the man in front of you, and you find no resemblance to that little girl’s dad.

“Listen—”

“No, Joel! I’m done, you hear me?” You yell out, swinging your bag across your back, “I’m done.”

You pull off the engagement ring that hadn’t left your hand in years, and shove it into his hand as you pass by him, walking back towards the living room. Your hands fumble as you reach into the weapons cupboard, and you hear Joel’s hurried footsteps as he approaches you. Your hands grasp the gun, and you check the ammo, seeing that yes, there were bullets missing. It gets shoved in your bag, along with the knife you had dropped in there once moving in.

“You—c’mon, you can’t do this!” Joel pleads then, his hands reaching for you once more, but once again finding nothing to hold on to, with you moving away from him to grab the few ration cards you’d earned recently. “The—there’s curfew, just stay, stay here.”

You shake your head firmly, unable to tell him no to his face. Your confidence is fading, and you just want to curl up and cry, preferably in the arms of the man you love.

“Don’t leave me,” he says, his fist squeezed tightly around your engagement ring, not wanting to lose it. He feels sick, seeing your hand bare of it. “We—we made a promise to each other! Darlin’ just listen to me!”

“I can’t,” you say, your voice shaking and unsteady, “It’s too late, Joel. You’re too late. I—I don’t even know who you are!”

“It’s me, darlin’, it’s still me.” Joel insists as you approach the door, pulling it open, but you just don’t recognise him.

“No,” you refute, “this isn’t you.”

You close the door behind you, hearing the crash of the weapons cupboard hitting the floor, the sound of Joel’s yell only cementing your decision to make a hasty exit.

[loversdomain]

me a week ago: the world was grey, frown was upside down and tumblr was suffering from a terrible predicament. this unspeakable, diabolical predicament, if you will was: a lack of platonic joel miller fics. in other words, i was in a melancholic state MELANCHOLIC !!!!

me yesterday/today (upon the release of not one, BUT TWO PLATONIC JOEL FICS): i have never been better, who needs counselling with lydia (love u lydia bab) to ease anxiety and depression when i have platonic joel fics !!!! pedro pascal is FATHER, joel miller is FATHER and these two fics just show that he is FATHERINGGGG !!!! he is fathering to the max !!!! like his life depends on it !!!!! ur writing the father and are doing him THE JUSTICE OF ALL JUSTICES!!!!! doing gods work heartpascal and the microblogging, social media network (since 2007) known as tumblr thanks you for it, GOODNIGHT U GODSEND!!!! hope u have the best sleep of ur life x

can we get more father figure joel? You know when Ellie killed the David, and then Joel comforted her? Maybe that but instead of Ellie it’s the reader, thank you <3

i am good

▹ joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: joel finally sees the darkness in himself reflected in you.

▹ — a/n: ok first request i hope it’s ok!! i know its kinda similar to the game but erm. its reader and joel this time!! and reader is much much less ok with the whole. murder thing but its ok bc joel is there to fix it <3 yes he is your dad no you don’t get a choice he has decided it

▹ — warnings: allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens but the intention was there), vivid descriptions of murder, reader is misled and attacked, similar to the game with ellie (so kinda spoilers?), joel is ready to kill for you (and does), lots of blood, tears, father figure joel, lots of angst and upset, vomiting

masterlist

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Getting air into your lungs was proving to be one of the hardest things you’d had to do for a long time, which, considering the journey you’d been on, was shocking. The act of simply breathing should have come easily to you, but it didn’t. It couldn’t. Not as you saw the reflection of your own bloodied face in the knife that was held up, a clear threat polluting the air.

You knew you had probably been lucky to even make it as far as you had — born into a world full of death and chaos and infection, you were bound to meet your gruesome end some day, but you didn’t want to die.

For the first time in a long time, your chest ached for the breath you couldn’t seem to provide, the want, the need to live almost suffocating you on its own. You had someone now, someone who cared whether you survived or not, who felt like you deserved even a glimpse at a happy ending, even if he didn’t like to state those things out loud.

Resentment was growing in your stomach, filling you with the need to be sick. Why did you always have to listen to the words Joel didn’t say, rather than the ones he did say? If you had just listened, conserved your trust for those who actually earned it, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

When your hunting escapades had led you into a small horde of infected, you had just blindly put your faith in the aging couple who came to your aid, not thinking of what they might want for their troubles. You’d never had to escape without Joel’s help before, and you quickly discovered you weren’t all that good at it.

The two of them had dragged you back to their nearby settlement which they shared with a couple dozen others, all whilst you were kicking and screaming, trying to get away, your resolve fading each time they hit you to near unconsciousness. When they passed by a young man stood beside an older lady, you had called out to them, “Please, help me, please.”

“Gotta get something in return for the gear we wasted saving her ass,” the man had snickered to the two of them as glanced at the couple, just nodding at his words before turning back to their conversation.

You’d been knocked out when they approached a large community house, just getting a glimpse of the carpeted floor before the woman had struck her gun against the side of your head.

You had woken up in the middle of a chilled room, your arms straining with effort as you pushed yourself to sit up, seeing the woman holding a knife towards you. You couldn’t be sure how long it had been since they’d taken you, not with the way your stomach clenched with pain. The whole reason you’d been out there was to solve that, but you were sure that it had gotten worse.

“Listen, please,” your scratchy voice came out, much quieter than you had meant for it to be, “I—I can get you replacements for everything you used, but you gotta let me go.”

“We don’t gotta do anything, girl.” The lady snickered, as if even you saying such a thing was amusing. It made you feel small, powerless.

She got up, hearing her name being called, Cheryl, you noted, and sneered at you. Her skin was dull, and she looked vaguely ill, but that didn’t change anything about her threatening demeanour. At least one thing you’d taken from travelling with Joel was never underestimate your opponent, no matter how small, or ill, or kind they may appear to be.

Her hand grazed your face as she strode past, “Yeah,” she said quietly, like she was complimenting you, “You’ll do nicely. We’ll both enjoy you.”

You managed to avoid throwing up until she left the room, hearing a lock click into place. All that came up was bile, the clench of your stomach just becoming sharper afterwards. Your muscles felt weak, likely beginning to waste away with you having been inactive for a little while and injured, less energy wasted on muscle cells and more going into fighting off the infections that were likely trying to poison your blood.

Scanning the room, like Joel would’ve advised you to, you found nothing of much use to you. An old rickety chair, perhaps, but that would only help you if you could lift it, and you weren’t convinced you had the strength left within you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

Something deep in your chest nagged at you, the longing for Joel, probably. He had saved you on countless occasions, and you could only hope that it had been long enough that he had finally gotten worried. It seemed likely, he really did worry a lot for a man who wasn’t meant to care, but then there was the factor of him finding you, managing to take down all the people in the settlement that might fight to protect each other and—

You took a deep breath, finally feeling your lungs expand and take in some oxygen, and pulled yourself from the ground, keeping the bile that threatened to rise down as the nausea hit you.

The chair was lighter than you expected it to be, the insides of the wooden frame likely rotten away, and you managed to pull it towards the door, waiting beside it with shallow breaths. When the lock finally began to click open, you raised the lightweight chair as high as you could, and smacked it down against the person who entered the room. Splinters flew from it as it impacted, and you heard the clatter of metal as a tray they carried hit the ground with them.

Food, maybe, to keep you alive for… whatever it was that they had planned for you, you reasoned, but didn’t look to check. Instead, you grabbed a mostly-intact leg of the chair that caused splinters to dig into your palm, and stepped over the body of the man who had taken you, exiting quickly.

Footsteps hurried you, and you ducked behind a booth as they approached the room you were being kept in. There were lanterns lit all around the room, giving it a warm look that greatly contrasted the cold air and feel it had.

“Shit!” Cheryl cursed, and you saw her bend down to check on the man from over the top of your booth. A radio crackled though the air, before, “Lewis is down, the girl’s out. Anybody got eyes?”

Your fingers shook and you gripped on to the booth to stop them, hearing the distorted reply of whoever was on the other end of the radio, “She ain’t got out, yet, she’s gotta be in there with you. You need backup?”

“No,” Cheryl replied, her cold voice sending shivers down your back, “I’ve got her.”

The drag of Lewis’ clothes against the floor made you peak your head up, seeing her drag him into the room, before she exited and locked him inside. You ducked back down, heart hammering. You couldn’t escape from them in an open forest — how would you get out of a locked down building?

“Come on out, kid. It’s okay, you just gotta start behaving yourself.” She called, her slow footsteps failing to mask the sound of her unsheathing her knife. It wasn’t okay, it was very far from okay, you would argue, and you could feel that crushing fear of death pushing down on your shoulders, your chest constricting once again.

You tried to reassure yourself — you had faced countless amounts of infected and come out on the other side, what was one woman with very bad intentions? But it didn’t make you feel better, not when it was another human, who could feel exactly what you felt.

Her footsteps approached, and you leaped from where you were in the booth, trying to run as far away from her as fast as you could, but she caught up to you with surprising ease, your muscles clearly weaker than initially thought, and she grasped the back of your shirt, pulling you to a stop as you fell to the ground.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You cried out as she knelt down, one knee beside you and another pressing against your stomach, knife approaching your throat as soon as she settled you firmly against the carpet. It was red.

“You could’ve made this real easy for all of us,” she muttered your name, and you froze, having forgotten the way you’d yelled it out to them in the midst of the battle. “Be a good girl, now.”

You heard gunfire outside, and when her face glanced toward the guarded front door, you twisted underneath her, pushing yourself away to find enough room to kick the knee against the floor out from under her. She fell, her chin hitting the ground with a satisfying crack, and when she cried out, anger overcame you.

“You were gonna hurt me,” You said aloud, almost as if it was a realisation, rather than just fact. Your eyes hardened, gaze going red as you snatched the knife from her weakened grip. She reached out to try and snatch it back, but only got the drops of your blood that fell from the blade as you held onto it, twisting it until you finally held the handle. “Why— why were you going to hurt me?”

Her response didn’t filter through your ears, and the rage at how easily she and Lewis were going to do it pulsed, making your vision go blurry. When she sat up, tumbling forward to take you down again, you swiped her own knife until you felt the drag of something resisting it, and then you pulled harder, feeling something warm gushing down your hand.

Cheryl’s breath stuttered slightly, her hands rising to her chest as she groaned in pain. You looked down to your hands, where they were coated in a red that was darker than the carpet below them, and you were so lost that you didn’t notice her hand coming below yours, hitting it so hard that the knife went flying to the other end of the carpet.

Like a reflex, your fists came down on her face, feeling the shift of bones beneath your knuckles as they shattered upon contact. You didn’t stop, too wrapped up in the fact that you didn’t want to die, that she was going to hurt you, to kill you when she was done, she was going to tear you apart and throw away the pieces, she was going to take away what little humanity had left, she—

Arms pulled you away from the body beneath you, arms much stronger than your own, and you screamed, yelled out with your broken voice, “I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking kill you, get off of me! I’ll kill you!”

The person shushed you, only holding tighter as you thrashed, turning away from Cheryl where she… wasn’t breathing. You stopped, tense muscles in your body going slack and burning as you stared at her, at her body, lifeless and covered in blood.

“Kid, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” said the person holding you— said Joel. Your hands dropped from where you had scratched his forearm, his arm covered in blood — though whether it was his, or Cheryl’s, or yours, you didn’t know.

He loosened his grip on you, eyebrows creased in concern as your entire body slipped when he moved his arms away, as if you couldn’t even hold yourself up.

“No… she— it wasn’t, I didn’t—” you trailed off, unsure of what to say, the words dead on your tongue, because you didn’t what? Didn't mean to kill her?

Joel followed your blank eyes to the body he’d pulled you from, and he turned your head towards him quickly, eyes hard. “No.” He said, and at your somewhat confused expression, he continued, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Joel, I—”

“No,” he repeated, and pulled your head towards him, keeping you looking away from Cheryl as a gunshot rang through the room, echoing in your ears so loudly you couldn’t hear Joel at first, as he held up the smoking gun for you to see, “—killed her, see? I killed her.”

“They were going… they wanted to—” You choked on the words, feeling that bile come creeping back up your throat, and you lurched away from Joel as it came out, feeling him pull your hair back from your face.

Something in his eyes settled, however, at the choice of word you’d used — they. So this body wasn’t the only one in here? His question was answered by a bang at a door on the other side, the way your entire body flinched at the sound.

The door splintered, and a battered man came tumbling out, hurrying over to where he could see people crowded. His face went red, and he began to shout, “You fucking bitch—!”

Joel shot one between the eyes, and the man crumpled before he could get anything else out. He turned back to you, to where you were hunched in on yourself. He shoved his gun back in its rightful place, and held your cheeks between his hands, gunpowder residue transferring to your skin.

“Do you hear me?” His muted voice said, and you looked up to his face with a confused shake of your head, “It was you or them, and the only answer is you.”

“But, Joel,” you were interrupted, and he wiped the underneath of your eye of a tear that you hadn’t even known had fallen.

“No. You listen to me, remember?” Joel affirmed, and you nodded, the tears falling more now that you’d acknowledged them, your hands shaking as you tried to look past Joel, but he just pulled your face back to him. “I’ve got you, kid. Keep your eyes on me.”

You turned your face into his neck as you all but threw yourself into his arms, and they wrapped around you like they’d been waiting to do so. You missed his pained expression at the words, and the way heartache burrowed in his chest as he stood the two of you up, his knees clicking.

He swept you up, as if you were the smallest and lightest thing he’d carried in years, and he carried you away, your eyes staying glued to him as the two of you left behind the carnage he’d caused in looking for you.

[loversdomain]

this has changed the trajectory of my entire life. it will never be the same, i will never be the same. AS SOON AS I SAW THIS NOTIF I CAME STRAIGHT TO THE APP (im a little late but whtever) AND ISTG the clouds dispersed, the sun revealed itself and it is SHINING!!!!!! birds are singing and the grass is looking greener as ever bc world peace is real and heartpascal has done WHAT HAD TO BE DONE!!!!!! read it rn.

i’ll be brave

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: an infected attack leaves you fragile, in more ways that one.

▹— a/n: prepare for many father figure joel fics bc i love him!! also this is not the best thing ever but i love joel so!! hope you guys enjoy <33 planning on doing some more platonic fics where we see them develop more but alas. this is what you get rn!!

▹— tags: @loversdomain

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Growing up in the QZ was all you had ever known, your life limited to the walls that surrounded you, trapped you. You’d heard stories about the world outside, though it was such a foreign concept to you, both of horror and nostalgia.

Until Joel, you were certain you’d never see it. The guards that patrolled were too strict, at least where you lived. It was easier to sneak further in than it was to get out, heading towards where most of the residents lived and worked.

Your father would’ve worked here, you thought to yourself, the very first time you’d managed to get into the centre of the QZ. He would have lived and worked and would have known your mother here. Sometimes, you wonder what life could have been like if he hadn’t of died mere weeks after you’d been born. There was a part of you that longed to know where he was from, actually from, before the world fell to pieces. To know his accent, the sound of his voice, the way he acted… anything.

They told you that your mother fled the day he died, leaving you abandoned in a flat crying for hours until the neighbours finally had enough and cracked open the door, finding you there: alone.

That’s how you had lived your life since, alone. Facing the current world with nobody to teach you, nobody to protect you, to help you escape.

You’re sure that Joel finding you was a miracle, though most people didn’t believe in those anymore, or so you were told. But you were certain that if one was to exist, it’d be this man.

The man who, despite his unwelcoming appearance, had hauled you away from the guards who had tried to beat you until you learned the lesson they were teaching. Who had given you shelter even when he knew nothing more than your name, who had lended you blankets and clothes to keep you warm.

Joel himself certainly wasn’t expecting you — your presence scared him. That day, when he saw those guards attacking you, he felt a glimpse of who he used to be in the life before, and he was unable to walk away. It terrified him, more than any clicker or runner ever could, that he may have some humanity left within him after all.

After Sarah, he turned his nose from anyone who could’ve needed his help. Other than those exempt from that, such as Tommy or Tess, he decided that it wasn’t his business.

But when you called out, being struck again by two armed guards, grown adults, something inside of his chest snapped. Like a tether that had been pulled far too taut, frayed away until the tension was too much to bare. He vividly remembers the blood that had dropped from his hands as he pulled you to your feet, remembers the way it matched the droplets that stained your face.

He wasn’t planning on you becoming part of his and Tess’ little… group, but once he found you, you seemed to stick. You didn’t particularly want to leave, anyway, and when the duo didn’t kick you out? You figured there was no harm in staying.

Now, you travelled with them, earning your place among the two adults, even when they suggested you stay home, where it was the slightest bit safer.

They had refused your requests to come with them on runs for a while, but the first time they allowed it was imprinted on your brain as if branded there by hot metal.

The brightness that came with being outside of the QZ was something you truly didn’t expect, though that could’ve just been in your brain. The QZ was dull, full of grey walls and faces and dirt, but out here was full. Greens and yellows and everything between covered the horizon, and you squinted to see as much of it as you possibly could.

Joel had huffed at you, nudging you lightly to keep you moving, but he wasn’t angry. He and Tess had shared a look, something going between their silence that you didn’t understand, and in that moment, you didn’t care to.

By now, you’d been coming on runs with the two of them for a few months, here and there. When they deemed it wasn’t too dangerous, of course.

Which is why today’s occurrence was so odd — it was a regular run, with you spending all your time in the great outdoors admiring everything that surrounded you, something akin to wonder in your eyes. Seeing all the buildings that had crumbled not long after your birth, taken over by nature and its most fearsome monster; cordyceps. As soon as you approached the desired hit of the day, you put your game face on. It was like flicking a switch in your brain — one second, you could have no worries in the world, stuck in your own head as you wandered around. The next, it was like every movement echoed in your ears, the slightest of sounds drawing your attention.

It was meant to be safe.

That is what Joel and Tess had said — god, that was the only reason they let you join them today, on one of their rare daylight outings: the safety factor.

So imagine your surprise when you slipped, ankle twisting as it went through the creaking floorboards of the building, followed by the clicking.

It was like your whole body froze solid, every muscle fibre tensing and pulling taut, eyes wide — a deer in headlights, Tess might’ve described you as, if her heart hadn’t have been beating so fast it could’ve burst.

Your head swivelled towards where Joel stood, just in front of you, to your right. He stared at you, something dark in his eyes, and you swallowed harshly as he held a finger to his lips, shushing you.

Each of your breaths came out silently, the only sound being the echoing clicks before the footsteps started coming towards the three of you, directly from your left. You swore you could hear the drip of blood in the quiet between each footstep of the monster.

You kept your eyes towards Joel and Tess, as much as you wanted to look to your left, where the sounds were starting to get louder. You watched them as they shared a conversation through their eyes, a nod of understanding held between the two of them. Joel’s expression was pained, but Tess put on her best brave face, giving you a wink.

“Hey, asshole!” Tess yelled, before scrambling to run ahead, a screech echoing in your ear, deafening you. Your breath hitched as she ran, and the clicker followed before your eyes.

As soon as its attention was on Tess, Joel was grasping you underneath your armpits, hauling your leg out of the hole it had fallen in. You held in your cries and winces as the broken floorboards left splinters and cuts all along your calf, your ankle hurting like a bitch.

He was pulling you out before you could utter a word, and by the time he managed to get you outside, your blood had covered your shoe. He leant you against the broken wall that had surrounded the building, ensuring you could stay upright — though you couldn’t put pressure on your leg — before he barked out a, “Stay here!” and ran back inside for Tess.

Your heart was beating in your ears, your throat clogged up as you did your best not to cry. This was your fault — had you not insisted upon joining them again, they would’ve never been put in this situation. They could die in there, and you were stuck out here, unable to even stand on your own two feet.

The pain in your leg was worsening now that you weren’t in imminent danger, though you were sure you were going to pass out when you heard the gun fire a single round.

“Are you guys okay?” You all but yelled as soon as you saw them emerging from the door, Tess leading, seemingly unharmed, with Joel following in much the same condition.

“We’re fine,” Tess breathed out as she approached you, leaning against the wall beside you. “It’s dead.”

“Are you alright?” Joel asked, his hand grasping on to your forearm, keeping you steady where you were shaking, holding yourself up against the rough surface of the wall. You nodded, breath still not able to properly filter out past the lump in your throat.

He knelt in front of you, hands reaching out and pulling the trouser leg up to see the full extent of your injury properly.

“Shit, kid,” he sighed out, looking up to Tess, “we’ve seen worse. We can manage.” He dropped the backpack where it was hung on his one shoulder, digging through it to tape some spare cloth around your injury, taping it around your ankle to keep it secure, too.

When he finally got you on your feet, silence lingering between all of you, he had to help you carry your own weight all the way back to your home in the QZ.

By the time you had managed to pick all the splinters out of your leg, Joel and Tess had gone to their beds, leaving you in the ‘living room,’ alone.

You felt sick, knowing you could have gotten all three of you killed today, just because you wanted a taste of the world that had long since decayed past anything worth wanting. Finally left on your own, the tears spilled past your eyelids, cleaving clean lines through the dirt and muck that caked your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but feel terrified, like you could still hear that damned creature coming for you. Like its footsteps echoed in your own home, right now.

With a fearful sob, you looked up to where you swore the sound come from, only to find Joel approaching, frown present on his face. His eyebrows were creased upwards, taking his expression from grumpy to worried.

Without a word from him, he came and sat beside you on the couch, wrapping the blanket that usually stayed firmly on the back of it around your shivering shoulders.

You clutched at it, wanting nothing more than to hide underneath it and pretend the entire day hadn’t happened — you wanted to forget the fear that shredded your veins, leaving your heart hammering. If you could just lose the entire memory of today, you would in a heartbeat, because the idea of leaving the QZ again with Joel and Tess made you feel sick.

Joel sighed, coming to kneel in front of you after you continuously avoided looking towards him. His hands reached out to your leg, the movement sending deja vu straight through you. He checked over your injury again, wrinkles caused by his frowning getting deeper. “You know it’s all okay, right?” He checked, finally, unsure what else to say in the quiet you usually tended to fill.

“It’s not o—okay, Joel,” you sobbed out, barely even breathing between your cries, “I al—almost got you and Tess kill—killed.”

“No, no, listen to me, kid. The… situation today was not your fault. Hear me? Not your fault. We thought it was safe, it wasn’t, that happens. We’re just glad you’re okay. Mostly.” He added on, nodding towards your bruised and bloodied leg.

“I tried so h—hard to be brave,” you continued, now even more hysterical as you thought of the way that thing approached you, how it could’ve killed any one of you had you made the slightest noise.

“I know,” Joel said, and he returned to your side at the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing it with his hand. “You were very brave, and I’m sorry you had to be.”

Part of Joel couldn’t help but feel like this was too much, too reminiscent of the daughter he’d lost. It made his head spin, even as he pulled you closer at the sound of your continuous cries, the way you could bring back that piece of him, the piece with some kind of humanity.

You didn’t have anybody else. All you had was Tess and Joel, and all he had was you and Tess, at least while his brother was out of town. This thing you had built, during the apocalypse and all, was a family.

“C’mon, kid,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his hand, “It’s alright. We’ll go out just to see the outside, next time. No risk of infected.”

“No, I—I don’t want to get you guys hurt again.” You responded, shaking your head and feeling your tears slow, remembering the pain that burned through your leg. You didn’t want to experience anything like today ever again, even if that meant staying inside the walls of the QZ for the rest of your life. “You didn’t even get what we went out for, because of me.”

His chest lurched, and he huffed a frustrated breath. “I don’t give one shit about that,” Joel said, leaving it to you to catch on to the end of that sentence that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. I care about you.

You couldn’t tell him how you truly felt — like dead weight, a burden they couldn’t get rid of. You stayed with them, ate their food and used up their supplies, and now you were ruining the only way for them to get a decent income, too. It’d upset him, hearing you say that aloud. You knew it would.

“I just… I don’t want to end up alone.” You translated, the best you could do to tell him that you needed the two of them, for more than just the ability to survive they provided you with.

You knew they missed the old world, everybody who had lived before the outbreak did, as much as they tried not to think about it. It was a deep longing for something you would never know. While their world was gone, they were your world.

Joel’s arm squeezed you close, like all the words that refused to leave his lips could be heard that way.

In a way, it told you everything you needed to know.

Your eyes closed soon enough, and you missed the look that crossed Joel’s face, the warmth in his eyes that he never thought would return after the loss of his first daughter. And yet here it was, present and warm as ever, as he looked at where you’d fallen asleep resting against him.

[loversdomain]

literally me reading this. BECAUSE HOW R WE GOING FROM ME FEELING LIKE HELL YEAH IM SAVING JOEL THIS IS GREAT TO ME INTERNALLY AND EXTERNALLY SCREAMING AT UNGODLY HOURS.

"hugging you closely and holding the back of your head to ensure nothing would take you from him... you're the only thing left in this world that he cares for" WHAT ?! WHAAAAT?! literally just kill me. i just threw my phone across the room HE IS SO DAD MATERIAL HE IS SO FATHER. even in a time of pain he STILL CARES 😭😭 HE STILL CARES YALL 😭😭

i am not okay. in fact enjoy some memes i made @heartpascal you have officially broken me xx

I LITERALLY LOVE FATHER FIGURE JOEL ‼️‼️ (and i also have severe daddy issues) CAN WE GET MORE OF HIM PLEASE 😭😭

the tunnel. . .

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: joel gets hurt, and in the face of losing the only person you have left, something inside of you breaks.

▹ — a/n: I DONT LIKE IT :( but i promise to provide more (&better) father figure joel content soon I SWEARRR

▹ — warnings: father figure joel, completely made up scenario (spoiler free!), joel gets hurt, it’s pretty bad, blood, stabbing, murder, reader protects joel, JOEL IS SLIGHTLY OOC

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

There is a moment of silence after Joel cried out, a moment where you watch with wide eyes as he crumples, a moment where the man responsible stands over the man laying down on the cold ground, and reaches for his gun.

For you, the only thing loud enough to break the silence is your own heart, pumping blood around your body, echoing in your ears. Your footsteps don’t register, and neither does your scream, as you run towards the person who hurt Joel, and jump on his back, your knife in your hand and all of a sudden you blink, and the man is limp on top of you, his blood quickly dripping on to your clothes.

He’s pushed off of you, and you’re by Joel’s side in a second, your hands hovering as you look down at his screwed up face. The knife is no longer buried in his side, and blood is pumping out of him faster and faster as time passes by.

“Joel? Joel, can you hear me?” You ask frantically, and lean your ear down towards him to hear better as he grunts out a yes, allowing you to place his hands over his wound, and push. He groans, yelling out through his teeth, and you know that it must be bad. It must be really bad.

He’s been by your side for months now, and each time you see him take a hard hit, he holds on to that stoic expression, bites down on his tongue and keeps up the strong front, whether to save you from worrying or to prevent anyone from thinking he’s weak, you’re not sure. But he never shows this much of his pain to you, so you’re sure that he’s fully out of it, that this is when you’re gonna lose somebody, again.

But his squinted eyes relay a sense of urgency to you, and he groans and says your name, gesturing behind you, and you pull the gun that had fallen from his grip when he’d gotten hurt. You whirl around, seeing more men from the group getting closer, eyes set on you and Joel.

Your finger trembles as you lay it on the trigger, and your ears ring when you fire it, hitting the two men who had been approaching with surprising accuracy. You turn back to Joel the next second, noticing his hands going limp on top of his injury, and you press them down again, feeling his blood stain between your fingers.

“C’mon, Joel, you gotta help me out here!” You tell him, something desperate in your voice making him pull away from that sweet black emptiness that he had been beginning to fade into. He nods at you, pressing his palms harder against his stomach underneath your own hands. You breathe a sigh, not quite of relief, but something almost similar, and survey the surroundings. “We gotta get somewhere safer.” You say, and the effort of keeping pressure on his wound is taking all of Joel’s concentration.

Taking a deep breath of the cold air, you think of where you are and where you’ve been. Going backwards isn’t much of an option, given that from behind is how these men had caught you and Joel by surprise, so you have to go forwards.

You click the safety on, and shove the gun in the loose over shoulder bag at your side. You cant help but feel overwhelmed — you haven’t had to escape without Joel’s help in a long time, and especially not whilst lugging around a 50-something year old who can barely even hold his hands steady.

“Come on,” You urge him, hearing shouts in the far distance, and you hook his arm over your shoulder, pulling him to sit up. “I can’t pick you up, Joel, I need you to stand,” You tell him, and he nods, despite his fluttering eyelids. Getting him up takes longer than you expected, and you can tell he’s getting lightheaded just sitting, but you have to push through. “Joel, please.”

By the time he’s finally on his feet, he’s leaning heavily on you, and you can hear the group of men are much closer to you — too close. There’s barely a chance of outrunning them, because not only do you have to practically carry Joel, but they have a car, too.

Your heart is beating in your throat, and you keep trying to think of what to do as you pull Joel further along, looking back and seeing the trail of blood behind the two of you is getting bigger.

You see an alleyway, and pull Joel into it, with him falling back to the floor almost as soon as you stop moving. If it weren’t for the adrenaline pumping through your body, you’re sure that you would’ve either cried or passed out by now, but luckily, the chemical is keeping you going. You pull the backpack from his back, rifling through it and looking for something to help. You find a bottle of old alcohol, and uncap it, lifting Joel’s shirt the tiniest bit to dump what was probably far too much on his wound.

He hisses, and you can hear the way he’s grinding his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as you do your best at cleaning his wound, hoping the quick douse will be enough to prevent it from getting infected, but honestly, you don’t know how any of it works.

The car stops down the road, and you hold your breath as you lean forwards, peeking the smallest bit out of the alley and seeing four men exist the vehicle, one from each door. They walk over to the opposite side of the street, beginning their search for the two of you. “Fuck,” You say under your breath, and turn back to Joel. “Okay, stay here, okay? Stay here.”

His hand grabs on to your wrist before you can leave the alley, and for the first time, you see his fear reflected in his expression. Though whether it’s for you or himself, or possibly both, you’ll never know. “It’s okay. Just stay here. We’re gonna be okay.” You tell him, not sure which of you it’s reassuring, but the words wrap around the two of you, and he nods his head jerkily. You press his hand back against his wound, a frown present on your face as you look at him.

For once, it’s you who has to be brave for him, not the other way around. You hope you have the courage in you.

You duck out of the alleyway, crouching behind a rusted car nearby as the men call out to each other, their voices getting increasingly frustrated. You take down the first one with ease, having watched Joel do this hundred of times. You jump on his back, hand clamped over his mouth and jab the knife as deep as you can into his neck, landing on the ground with an oomph.

It’s the next one that you fuck up, and he manages to throw you off, alerting the other two to your presence. “I’ll give you one chance, motherfuckers, before I—” They cut you off, shooting towards the sound of your voice, and you ducked down lower to the ground, waiting for the sound of them reloading before you popped up, taking aim and shooting one of them. He didn’t get back up.

With a sudden idea, you crept around towards their car as they nervously held their guns, eyes twitching as they looked for you — in the complete wrong direction, you would like to point out. You climbed in through the still open door, and smiled when you saw that these dumbasses left the keys.

Having never driven a car, you grip the steering wheel with an ounce of anxiety, but you’ve seen plenty of people drive, know to turn the key, press the right pedals, but you didn’t expect the speed at which the car lurched. You vaguely heard the shouts of the two men as the car hit them, but you kept driving, managing to stop just after the alleyway you’d left Joel in.

Nobody else bothered you, and you found Joel passed out in the alleyway. “Come on, stay with me, please, stay with me.”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Your eyes snapped towards him as he groaned, and you were by his side before he could even fully open his eyes. “Joel,” you all but sobbed in relief, grabbing on to his hand tightly, and feeling him squeeze your fingers between his as he slowly got to terms with the fact that this was reality. “You dick!”

He sat up, slowly, with your help via a hand on his back, helping pull him into a sitting position even as he winced. His eyebrows raised at your words, and he stammered for a moment, before he rolled his eyes and lifted his shirt to look at the injury he’d sustained.

His eyebrows folded inwards as he looked at the messy black lines zig-zagging across an inflamed line on his abdomen, the stitching sure to leave more scarring than if he’d done it himself, but it held both sides of the skin together, and stopped him from bleeding out. “You did this?” He asked, his voice gruff and sore, and you passed him a flask of water without a word.

“I—I didn’t know what else to do, you weren’t waking up and I couldn’t just leave it.” You said, nervous for his reaction to the way you’d practically vandalised the poor guy. It would surely stand out when it did scarred, in comparison to some of the neater lines that he or Tess had sewn up. “You, um, you lost a lot of blood, you’ve been passed out for nearly three days.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise as he sipped at the water, surprised by how much there was if it had really been that long. He was honestly pretty surprised that the two of you had made it that long.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to wake up, for a second there, Joel.” You said, trying to seem humorous but Joel saw straight through you, right down to the tremor in your voice as you said the words.

“Shit, kid.” He said, his voice flowing out much more easily, and he frowned as he looked at you, looked at the blood that was staining your clothes and face. Joel sighed, “I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, an apology from him being the thing you least expected. Hell, you were half waiting for him to scream at you, to tell you that it was your fault, or that you should’ve done something differently.

“That’s a lot to have on your shoulders,” Joel said, though he usually carried at least the equivalent amount, usually heavier, on his own shoulders. “But… thank you.”

He felt half the need to tell you that you should’ve left him behind, that you risking yourself for him was the last thing he wanted, but the look in your eyes told him that anything other than reassurances would break you.

“C’mere.” He said, so uncharacteristically soft, and he pulled you so you were resting underneath his arm, head laying against his collarbone. You practically sagged in his arms, exhaustion shattering you down to the bones, and he frowned, scanning you for any i juries you may have sustained. A broken finger, he’d have guessed, swollen and bruised where your hand lay on your legs. Sprained ankle, definitely, with how your had it resting so gingerly against the floor.

“I…” You started, nervous to tell him, “I crashed the car.”

His forehead crinkled, and he looked at you in confusion when you glanced at him. Part of him wanted to just… never ask, but he knew he couldn’t rest if he didn’t know how much danger you’d put yourself in.

“What car?”

“The car I stole, from the group of guys that attacked you. I crashed it into a lamppost, not like, really badly, but… don’t think it’s useable now.” At your words, he pulled away slightly, and you frowned, but he was just looking at you, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“You… stole, and drove, a car?” Joel asked slowly, realising he had clearly underestimated how much you’d do to keep him alive. “Jesus, kid.”

“I didn’t know what else to do! And then I dragged you here, did… that, and just got us some water and food and waited for you.” You explained, relaxing back into him when he moved back to his previous spot. Your words were beginning to become a garbled mumble, the three days with about six hours of sleep really messing you up now that you knew Joel was okay. He was safe.

He squeezed your shoulder, wondering to himself if you’d dragged his ass before, or after, you broke that finger, and the thought was almost too much. All this, to keep him safe. And on top of that, you had been stocking up as much as you could, waiting for him, unsure if he’d ever wake up or if you’d sit and wait as he died.

His silence unnerved you, and your eyes were stinging, though whether that was from exhaustion or tears, you weren’t sure. “Please, never scare me like that again. I thought you were going to die.” You told him, turning your head so he couldn’t see your face, though he could feel the way your shoulders trembled.

Joel pulled back, suppressing the groan he wanted to let out as he twisted, pulling the slightest bit at the stitches in his abdomen.

He said your name, and you looked at him with watery eyes, “I’m sorry. For getting hurt, and puttin’ you in danger, and for you havin’ to look after my old ass.”

“Promise me, you’ll never do that again.” You asked of him, and he placed a hand that was streaked with his own dried blood against your cheek, frowning at your expression.

“I promise you,” He said, his voice soft as he pulled you back to him, hugging you closely and holding the back of your head to ensure nothing would take you from him. “I’ve got you now. I’m alright, kid, get some rest.”

“You’re all I’ve got, Joel,” You tell him, voice muffled by his bloodied jacket, “I can’t lose you.”

He doesn’t say anything, only hugging you tighter, and refrains from letting out the words that he wants to say. That you’re the only thing left in this world that he cares for, that he’ll protect you with his life, not just because you’d done that for him, but because he cared about you.

Joel may refuse to outright say his thoughts, but the squeeze of his arm around you told you enough. The protective nature that had come about him from the moment he woke up, checking on you, taking notice of your injuries, was his way of caring.

He’d lost so much, like you had, and if he saw Sarah’s eyes reflected in your own, that was his business. The spark of that long-buried feeling… that paternal warmth, it made it much more obvious that he couldn’t let anything happen to you.

And like Sarah had tried to help him, protect him, even from when she was a kid, he saw that in you. In the way you gripped your knife when you heard something, the way you checked behind his back for him when he forgot to do so, he could see you cared.

“You ain’t losing me anytime soon, kid.” He told you, and it was all he could tell you. “But we’re gonna talk about this driving business, later.”

You let out a laugh filled with exhaustion, and Joel just held you tightly, staying ever so still as you slowly fell asleep against him, your snores comforting him more than his stitched wound.

He supposed, then, that after the past few days, you’d have a few wounds that’d need stitching up, too. He vowed in that moment, that he’d work on it, that he’d ensure your happiness for the rest of his life, in any way that he could. Even if right now, that just involves letting you sleep in his arms.