#tommy x platonic reader

[rrickgrrimes8]

Your Bear

summary: Joel Miller doesn’t just lose Sarah that night but his other daughter too. but maybe you can still be found. (part II)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader -- she/her pronouns used & AFAB

warnings: guns, violence, angst, mentions of death, birth, hurt/comfort, happy ending ;) (kinda), no spoilers for part 2/canon divergent

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word count: 3.2k

Joel Miller was always a good father - no matter what he thought. He cared for his girls more than he cared about anything in his damn life. So when they were both taken from him... there was nothing left to care about.

It was Sarah first.

He held Sarah as she died. His shirt was still stained with her blood. The watch on his wrist shattered by his failure.

But his other daughter, you, looking back he can only imagine the worst.

It all happened so fast. He had Sarah in his arms she gasped for air that was growing distant by the second, while Tommy watched with a pained look.

You, however, no one was watching you. Only 5 years old - you didn’t understand a thing. And so when you heard a loud noise. When you saw your sister go down and hearing the cries of both your father and her you panicked.

You thought you were getting help. That’s what’s your dad always told you to do if something bad happened. “Find the nearest phone or adult. Call me or Tommy or this number, okay? 911. Remember that number babygirl.”

And you did.

You ran as quick as you could, which wasn’t all that impressive but it was fast enough for them not to notice you had gone.

By the time you had found your way back into town, Tommy had noticed. “J-Joel,” His voice wavered, fear taking hold. Tommy searched the clearing, calling your name.

Joel looked away from his limp daughter then. His heart was thumping in his chest. His ribs ached as did the wound on his side but nothing compared to the terror that tore through his whole body.

“W-where is she?” His eyes darted over the area but you were no where to be found.

“No, Tommy,” He sobbed already fearing the worst, “T-tommy not her, please.”

Tommy shuddered. This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t real. You were just here. Sarah was just here.

“Joel,” He began until he heard shrill, painfully familiar scream from off in the distance.

“No,” Joel cried looking down at Sarah, hesitating just for a moment before setting her down, “I’m sorry baby.”

Tommy was already running at that point, hoping not to be late, not like he was for Sarah. Joel screamed your name as he sprinted - he couldn’t lose anyone else. He couldn’t lose you, his babygirl.

When he got there he saw Tommy knelt beside a bloodied teddy bear.

Your bear.

He collapsed. Knees giving way. He pulled the bear of the ground, its white fur tormented by the red hue.

Tommy shouted your name a few times. Joel didn’t have the energy to bother. His answer was here.

You were only five. You’d never have survived on your own.

And he would never survive without you, without his girls. He hugged the bear as if it was your body and he never let go.

x

“Why’d you have a bear in your bag?” Ellie teased as she caught sight of an fluffy ear sticking out.

Joel clenched his jaw, stuffing the teddy back inside. “What?” She laughed innocently, “Is it for your bad dreams? Chase the monsters away?”

The man grunted, discarding the bag on one of the chairs - away from Ellie’s view, “None of your business.”

Ellie frowned as she caught his eye. The brown was darker than usual, which was really saying something. They were empty, hollow but at the same time watery. Like he was one step away from crying. She shook the thought off - this was Joel she was talking about. Joel never cried, not in front of her - not really... She didn’t even think he could cry. But his eyes told her something else. They told an unspoken story. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But one, at the same time, she needed to hear.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, moving into the living room of the house Tommy and Maria had given them.

Joel sighed as she did, guilt running through his veins. “Sorry,” He called out, gruffly, stopping her in her escape. Ellie turned back waiting for him to continue. “it was...” He cleared his throat roughly, “The bear was my daughters.”

“Oh,” She whispered, looking up at the man with sympathy, “If i had known it was Sarah’s... i wouldn’t have said anything.”

Joel sucked in a breath, turning towards the cupboards behind him, grabbing a cup. “Wasn’t hers,” He corrected trying not to let his voice catch on the lump forming in his throat.

“What?” Ellie dared a step closer, “But Sarah was... is your daughter.” Joel bit his tongue, forcing himself to face her again. “Joel?”

He let out a watery sigh, eyes set on the ground, “I had... i had another daughter.” He spoke your name softly but with fear. He hadn’t said it in years - he couldn’t. He hadn’t spoken about you in nearly 20 years either. He hated to talk about you. It was hard enough letting Ellie in, letting her know about his past, about Sarah. But it was too hard to say your name. You were only a baby. His baby.

“I didn’t know. You never mentioned her,” Ellie almost felt guilty asking - like this was something she should’ve known. That she should’ve known wasn’t something you just bring up.

“Yeah,” He scrunched his face a little, the feeling of your loss rushing back.

He thought and he believed for a time that if he didn’t talk about you, about the way he failed you then all that hurt would go away. He was wrong. He saw you every night in his dreams. He saw the woman you grew up to become. He saw your smile and heard your laugh. But then he’d wake up alone. He was always alone.

The worst was when the dream felt real. You were a baby again, Sarah was young too. It was just the three of you. You’d be doing something mundane - watching TV, eating dinner, whatever. He’d have conversations with the pair of you, forgetting that none of it was real. He’d hold you to his chest, sing to you, make you laugh. He’d dance with Sarah to their beat up radio in the kitchen. He would watch you take your first steps, say your first words, form your first smile.

But he’d always wake up. He hated waking up.

“How old was she?” She dared to ask.

Shakily he replied, “Five.”

She fell silent after that. Five. Five years old. Joel lost a five year old - no wonder he didn’t want to talk about it, idiot.

Ellie thought for a moment, a question daring to fall from her lips. “But she’s wasn’t on the memorial at Tommy’s.”

Joel’s head snapped up, anger residing in his chest. Who he was mad at he didn’t know. Himself? Tommy? Ellie? You? “Tommy... he,” He huffed, “He doesn’t believe she’s gone. Holds out hope on that fucking plaque - fuckin’ delusional.”

Ellie leant against the countertop, eyes not leaving the man for just a second, “Why would he think that?”

“No body,” His voice was cold all of a sudden as if it meant nothing at all. As if he wasn’t talking about the body of his five year-old.

“But then she could be-“

“Don’t,” He snapped, “Don’t say another word.”

Ellie rolled her eyes but complied. Joel turned back to his cup, filling it with coffee he had just traded for. He didn’t speak until he was finished and even then he wished he hadn’t.

“We heard her scream... And we found-“ He grimaced, gesturing to his bag, “And we found that damn bear.”

“But,” She tried again.

“Ellie-“

“No, seriously, if all you found was a bear she could still be-“

Without another word, Joel stormed past her, ripping the bag open, slamming the bear onto her chest.

Ellie saw it now.

She understood the haunting look in his eyes. She understood the story it told. It was matted, showed its age. What once was white was red now.

All of it.

Not just a patch here and there.

Everywhere.

It reminded her of Joel.

“That look like she could be alive to you?” He shouted.

“Fuck,” She felt sick just looking at it let alone touching it.

“You kept it?” A voice called from behind her.

Joel met his brothers eyes. “‘Course i did,” He spoke defensively.

“Joel,” He simpered. They stared at each other for a while. Almost like they were having a silent conversation.

Until Joel spoke, “It’s all i have of her left.”

And there was nothing else to say.

x

Years had gone by since they had gotten to Jackson. And things were surprisingly good. Eerily good. It was the type of good that Joel knew deep down wouldn’t last. It was the type of good that only existed before this mess.

Every morning he would wake up here he had a weight on his chest. A feeling that something was going to happen. This was the calm before the storm, he’d remind himself.

He didn’t tell anyone about it. He couldn’t. He’d just sound paranoid.

Him and Ellie were on a run. It was simple - it always was. The people in charge at the commune never liked to overstep - go to far. Never liked to do what Joel craved.

All they had to do was scope out a few cabins that were spotted deep in the woods. Ellie had jumped at the proposition as soon as Tommy had suggested it. She hated being cooped up for so long - Jackson could only give you so much freedom.

And just because Ellie agreed he knew he had to as well. There was no way in hell he’d let her go out risking her life when there was no way he’d be able to save it.

Getting there was the easy part. The horses at Jackson were a godsend. When they got there the place was still. Ellie gave Shimmer a soft pat before joining Joel who was stalking up to the door. He knocked first - not out of curtesy, just to attract any infected that it may hold. Because that’s what they expected. But Joel should’ve known better.

Joel should’ve thought about their biggest threat - people.

They had only cleared two rooms when Joel felt the cold sting of mental on his temple.

Ellie gasped but kept her gun up, eyes trained on the figure that held Joel’s life in their hands. “Put it down,” The voice ordered.

“Like hell I will,” Ellie retorted, finger edging closer to the trigger.

“I said put it down or the old man gets it,” She forced the barrel against his head - so hard he was sure it would bruise.

“Jesus, fuck, okay,” Ellie mumbled, slowly setting her gun on the floor infront of her, “Just let him go?”

The woman laughed, “So you can kill me, yeah, no thanks.”

“We can work this out,” Joel tried, hands raising to show he was unarmed but it only aggravated her more. Her arm wrapped around his neck, making him stumble back into a chokehold.

“Hey!” She yelled at Ellie as she reached for a gun. The teen stopped, taking a few steps back.

“Just put it down. We can work this out,” Joel proposed, gasping as she applied pressure to his neck, “We don’t want to hurt you.”

“Bullshit,” She spat, breathing heavily, “What the fuck else are you here for then, huh?”

“Supplies,” Ellie told her, “We’re from a commune-“

“Ellie-“

“We can take you back there - help you. If you just put the gun down.”

“Bullshit,” The woman removed the gun from Joel’s head aiming it now at Ellie, “You’ll kill me the first chance you get.”

Ellie shook her head, going to respond before Joel gripped the woman’s arm flipping her over. She gasped as she forcefully hit the ground, splinters from the wooden floor embedded into her spine.

Her breathing picked up, hand scrambling to get to the gun he had knocked out of her hand but a foot stopped her.

Joel’s boot pressed harshly against her wrist, “Don’t.”

“Christ Joel,” Ellie huffed, “You scared the fuck out of me.” Joel watched her as she reached down to get her discarded gun. Ellie laughed as she caught her breath, “Where the hell did that come from? You’re like 80.”

“Ellie,” He scolded with a strict look.

“Right, sorry,” She chuckled.

“So this is when you kill me then,” The woman heaved, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Joel turned to her then, catching her eyes for the first time. He faltered, boot leaving her wrist as he took a step back.

She was a spitting image of... you.

No.

“Shouldn’t’ve tried to kill us, i guess,” Ellie retorted humourlessly.

“You came into my house,” She shot back.

“This is your house,” Ellie muttered, “Needs some work. Right, contractor?” She shot a look over her shoulder at Joel. The man was pale, breathless. His eyes were trained on his attacker with a foreign look she couldn’t decipher.

“Joel?”

“Name,” He ordered, gun pointed down at her but both of them could see it shake.

“What?” She coughed, struggling to understand the strangers.

“Your name, what is it?” He yelled.

“Jesus,” She almost let herself laugh - she would’ve if she wasn’t so shit scared.

Joel gave her a stern look so she said it. She spoke your name.

Ellie’s lips parted, confusion leaving her face, “Holy shit.”

Joel’s expression crumbled as did the grip on his gun, which now hung loosely at his side. “Last name?” He asked, voice a mere whisper.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Answer.”

“It’s Miller, Christ,” She answered, “What the hell is the matter with you people?”

Joel’s knees felt weak, his breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. You died. You were gone.

“Joel is she-“

“Stand up,” He told you.

Hesitantly you did as he said, struggling slightly as your injuries caught up to you. Seeing this Joel stepped forward, hand outstretched. With an odd look in your eye you took it - ignoring how the mans eyes lingered on it for a second too long.

“Are you alone?” Fearfully you shook your head. “Where?” He ordered.

You shook your head again, “Please don’t- You can’t. I was just trying to protect her.”

“Who?” Ellie spoke up, despite it not feeling like her place to be in this conversation.

“M-my,” You started but a cry interrupted, echoing through the cabin.

You didn’t think for a second before you ran out of the room. Joel cursed as you did, going to rush out after you before Ellie spoke up, “What are we doing here, Joel?”

“I-“ He paused, shaking his head and leaving the room.

“Is it her?” She questioned, following closely behind him, “Is it really her?”

He gave her stern look as he entered the room you escaped into. His eyes blurred as he saw you with a baby to your chest.

“Please don’t,” You held up your free hand, stopping them, “You can’t- not her.”

“Holy fuck,” Ellie gaped, “You have a fucking kid!”

“Ellie!” The baby fussed in your arms, cries escaping despite your comfort.

“Please leave,” You beg, “Just let us go. I know i messed up. I didn’t want to hurt you guys but i- i couldn’t let you find her.”

“It’s okay,” Joel spoke softly, a type of softness you wouldn’t expect a man like him to be capable of. He holstered his gun, carefully and moved his hands where you could see them.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” He told you, “Ellie, put your gun away.” Ellie did as he said.

“So leave,” You pulled your child closer to your chest.

“We can’t do that,” Joel said.

“Why?”

“Because he’s-“

“Ellie, don’t,” He cut her off, turning back to you, “We weren’t lying before. We have a commune - it’s safe. You’ll be safe there. You both will be.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, repeating the same question, “Why?”

“B-because you’ve got a kid,” He lied, “We can’t leave you here to die.”

“I don’t trust you,” You frowned. Joel mirrored your action, looking around the room at the makeshift cot you had constructed. He felt his heart ache when he spotted a blood stain on the carpet in the corner - you had given birth here, alone. You went through that alone.

“Please,” Ellie spoke up, “You won’t survive out here. You need somewhere safe. And maybe you don’t trust us, that’s okay but we’re honest. We want to help you.”

Hesitantly, you nodded after a few minutes, anxiety building in your chest.

Joel’s eyes were still stuck to the bloodied patch and he was reminded again of how he failed you. How he failed Sarah. He thought about that damn bear. The bear that he thought was the last part of you he had. And despite the pain in his chest and the ringing in his ears he was so glad he was wrong.

“What’s her name?” Ellie asked as she took a tentative step forward.

You didn’t flinch, you wanted to but a part of you, a naive, childish part, wanted to believe them. “Sarah,” You returned, pinching your girls cheeks causing her to smile.

Joel’s eyes filled with tears, tears he had been trying to suppress for the past 20 minutes. For the past 20 years.

Sarah. His Sarah. Your Sarah.

Ellie’s eyes snapped to Joel. He almost felt embarrassed, showing this side of him. Showing his weakness.

“She’s beautiful,” He whispered.

You smiled as he spoke, kissing the side of Sarah’s head. “She is,” You kissed her again before whispering - more to her than them, “My babygirl.”

[book-place-incorrect-quotes]

Everyone: *chatting around the dining room table for a family dinner*

Tommy: *hands Y/N the salt*

Y/N: Thanks, dad

Everyone: *stops talking and stares*

Y/N: *confused* Why is everyone staring at me?

Ada: You just called Tommy ‘dad’. You said, ‘Thanks, dad’

Y/N: What? No! I said, ‘Thanks, bro’

Tommy: Do you see me as a father figure, N/N?

Y/N: Pftt- no! If anything, I see you as a bother figure, cause you’re always bothering me!

John: Hey! Show your father some respect!

Y/N: I didn’t call him ‘dad’!

Tommy: No, no, Y/N, I take it as a compliment

Arthur: It’s no big deal. I called Linda ‘mom’ once and she’s my wife!

Y/N: Guys, jump on that! Arthur has psycho issues!!

Finn: Old news. But you called Tommy ‘dad’

Y/N: Guys, for the last time, I didn’t call Tommy ‘dad’!

Tommy: That’s alright, I believe you-

Y/N: *sighs in relief* Thank you

Tommy: -daughter. You want to talk about it later over a game of catch?

Y/N:

Y/N: *tears up* I'd like that

[heartpascal]

hoping there’s somewhere to go

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader + tommy miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you try to navigate life after the rejection of the only family you’d ever had (part two of weight too heavy to hold alone)

▹— a/n: the song too much time in my house alone by leith ross inspired this <3 longer A/N at the end!

▹— warnings: angst (as always), isolation, and then self isolation, mention of christmas time but it’s not christmas, a winter’s dinner that isn’t christmas dinner, fears being proven correct, very little self worth, it has been a long while since i have written/posted/needed to put warnings so let me know if something is missing!!!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915  @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa  @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being (pedro) — please let me know if you want to be added/removed

MASTERLIST

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Jackson is cold in winter.

And it’s not just because of the weather.

There’s winter festivities, holidays that you had never really had any experience with. And because of the weather, patrols were undertaken by smaller groups, leaving crowds of people wandering the streets, or trying to find work within the small community. So, not only was it cold and miserable, but it was about ten times as crowded in the communal spaces, with everybody packing into every space possible in order to preserve their warmth.

That’s not even the worst part — there’s the whole focus on family, or whatever a person in the apocalypse might have that’s close enough to it.

Holidays bring people together, Tommy had told you once, about a year ago. It wasn’t long after you had first arrived in Jackson, traipsing through the gate alone, aside from the patrollers who escorted you there.

The thing was, though, that you didn’t have people.

And it wasn’t as if you were wanting them! That definitely wasn’t the case — you couldn’t bear getting close to anybody, after what had happened last time — but you couldn’t help the more prominent feeling of isolation. You knew you weren’t alone in your feelings, after all, there were plenty of Jackson residents who had nobody, or resented the holiday season for one reason or another, but you felt alone.

You’re allowed to feel bitter about it, even if you do want to stay that way. It’s not like you had always felt this way, there was a time when you had thought yourself close to having a family — whatever the hell that was. In spring, if somebody had told you that you might feel this way, you might have disbelieved them, might have had faith in Joel and Ellie, despite your reservations. But then everything there had fallen apart, and you were left like this.

Living on your own, halfway across town, closer to Tommy, but further away than ever.

It was like that gaping hole in your chest had reopened with a vengeance, sucking any amount of trust or affection you had for the man into a void where it couldn’t be found. If Tommy hadn’t stuck you with Joel and Ellie, you might not be feeling like this — feeling so cold, and alone, and frozen despite the world moving around you. If he had just minded his business, or even, maybe, if he had just looked after you himself, rather than passing you off as nothing more than a chore, you could’ve been something at least close to happy.

Instead, you’re here. Making the short trip back from the school he had forced you to start going to, heading back to the little space you were supposed to call home. It wasn’t home, though. You had never occupied a space that had felt anything even close to that before, other than Joel’s. You’re pretty sure you’ll never live anywhere like that again.

You’ll probably live here, in the shitty garage that Tommy had someone convert for you, for the rest of your life. Either that, or until they finally have enough of you, and kick you out. Whichever came first.

Really, you should be used to being on your own. To having to do everything yourself, be responsible for every aspect of your own life, but strangely, after Joel’s, you find it hard to go back to that. Balancing things has never been your strong suit, and this only goes to prove that. And it’s aggravating, feeling as though something within you had changed, feeling as though you’re no longer capable, when you had spent your whole life looking after yourself.

Feeling like this has had you thinking some incredibly stupid things, your mind at one point trying to convince you that the only way to prove that you were capable, was to go back out into the big open world. Luckily for you, your survival instincts are stronger than that, and you’re able to remind yourself that Jackson is the best possible place for you, regardless of whatever thoughts and feelings you were having.

Besides, you wouldn’t want to give any of them — them being Joel, Tommy and Ellie — the satisfaction of your leaving. If they wanted you gone, they’d have to tell you as much, this time.

It was clear to you now, that they hadn’t wanted you there in the first place. And given the distance between you and Ellie since Joel had gotten rid of you, you gathered that, despite what you believed to be a close bond, she had never wanted you around either. She seemed happy enough, gallivanting around the town with her few friends, friends she had never even bothered to introduce you to. At least that meant you weren’t missing anything. Maybe she had actually done you a favour. Although given the way she avoided your gaze like her life depended on it, every time you happened across her, you somehow doubted that.

You’re not sure which loss was worse. Despite how close you had grown to Joel, how attached you had become, Ellie was the first person your age who you had ever trusted. You had told her things that you had never spoken aloud to anyone before. And now, you were left with a constant weight of regret, of dread, in the pit of your stomach.

Selfishly, you wanted Ellie to be angry at Joel for getting rid of you. You wanted her to fight for you, wanted her to remain in your corner when everybody else opposed you. What you really wanted, though, was for somebody to choose you. You wanted to feel important to somebody.

Though, now, you think you’ve outgrown that childish desire. You don’t want anyone around you, anymore.

Not even Tommy.

“Kid, would you just open the damn door?” Tommy asked, speaking to the plain face of your front door. He had knocked three times before opening his mouth, growing exasperated by your cold shoulder. He knew you were in there — had seen you walk home after school, when he was finishing a job just around the corner. Besides, where else would you be?

You stayed silent, sitting on the unmade sheets of your bed, staring at the door as Tommy knocked once again.

“C’mon, open the door. Please?” He repeated, and you could practically picture his stance outside, one arm resting against the doorframe and one hand resting against his hip. “Just wanna talk, alright? Then I’ll be on my way.”

You heard the heaviness of his sigh from your space across the room. But it didn’t change anything for you. How could it? Tommy had sent you to his brother, he had known what his brother was like, and he had sat idly by while you were uprooted and sent across town like you didn’t matter. Just another inconvenience. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he was also forcing you to go to Jackson’s community school, run primarily by an almost 70 year old woman, who was meant to retire a year after the outbreak.

It was ridiculous and unfair.

Ellie didn’t have to go to school.

It just felt like another method of getting you out of the way. After all, what did you need with writing and reading? Mathematics and history? The world had ended before you were even born.

Besides, you knew for a fact that Tommy had volunteered to take Ellie out shooting soon. Despite her avoiding you, you could still hear her boasting about it in the canteen to her friends.

You couldn’t help but feel like it should’ve been you. After all, weren’t you the one without anybody? Weren’t you the one who would be alone, should Jackson fall apart? Ellie would have Tommy and Maria. She would have Joel. Who would you have? Nobody.

If Tommy Miller had ever actually cared about you, perhaps he would’ve helped you work on the issues you’d been facing when you went to him for help, rather than passing you off to his older brother. You had spent your entire life depending on only yourself. Tommy had no idea what it had taken for you to approach him, for you to want help. To have that thrown back in your face, you knew, had done damage. As if you weren’t already damaged enough.

It was something you had been aware of for a long time — that there was something wrong about you. Something rotten. Like something had crawled into your chest, into the gaping cavity between your ribs, and died in there. It had been decaying over the years, leaving an air about you that told everybody exactly what you had always known: you are unsalvageable. Nothing in this world could reverse the decomposition that had occurred inside of you, just like nothing could reverse the infection that had taken the family you had never known.

The whole thing made you feel foolish, really. Your whole life, a voice inside of your head had been telling you that nobody could help you. Nobody would help you. And when you had finally gathered the courage to prove that voice wrong? It was proven right instead. It was a kick in the teeth. A thorn underneath your fingernail. Something bothersome, painful.

Tommy Miller had proven that you were just as alone as you had always felt.

He knocked against your door again, apparently content to wait you out. You had nowhere to go, but the knocking was irritating, the knowledge of his presence outside of that door was grating.

Before you could think better of it, you made your way over, and opened the door.

He looked the same as he always had done. Dressed for the weather, his favourite pair of boots on, and hair pushed away from his face, which held a surprised expression.

“Hey, kid.” He said, finally, after a moment of just staring at you in shock. It had been a while since Tommy had seen you up close. You looked more tired than he remembered.

“What do you want?” You asked, forgoing any sort of greeting towards the man. Opening the door was about as generous as you were prepared to be towards him.

His face morphed slightly, shock ebbing away, regret flowing in at the creases by his eyes, the grimace of his mouth. “Right, uh,” He paused, looking into your converted garage through the gap between you and the door. You pulled the door closer, so only you fit into the gap. “Alright, so, I know things have been… tense, between everybody, but I was hopin’ that you might join us. Me ‘n Maria are doin’ a winter’s dinner, not exactly Christmas, but it’s a day to be with family, y’know?” Tommy rambled on a bit, trying to spit all of his words out before you could decline, or shut the door in his face.

“We’re not family, Tommy.”

You watched his expression fall, which provided you with a sting that you hadn’t expected. But the sentiment remained the same — you weren’t family. Your surname wasn’t Miller. And even if it were, with the state of things between you, Tommy and Joel? It definitely wasn’t something you’d call family.

Honestly, you weren’t sure why he was coming to you with this now. Maybe before Joel had rejected you, before Tommy had watched on as any trust you had was shattered, but now? Now, he was lucky you even opened the door. You didn’t have a family, and it wasn’t a big loss to you. You’d gone this long without one, so what did it matter?

Tommy’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He was at a loss for words.

“Go home, okay?” You said, when his words continued to fail him. He swallowed, jaw clenched as his teeth gritted together. He was frustrated, though you doubted that was directed at you. More likely, was that it was directed at Joel. You knew things had been tense between the two of them recently, too.

He paused just as he was about to turn away. “Will you think about it, at least?” Tommy asked, though he didn’t look like he wanted to hear your answer. It wasn’t much of a question anyway.

You nodded, with no real intention of thinking about it. Well — no intention of thinking about attending. Thinking about the offer was a different story.

His shoulders deflated as he turned away, hearing you shut the door as he followed the path away from your place.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Even a full twenty four hours after Tommy had approached you with his invitation, you couldn’t let it go.

It felt as though something within you had snapped, falling from a great height and landing in the pit of your stomach. For whatever reason, one that you couldn’t get into now, maybe ever, you were filled to the brim with dread. It bubbled over, pooling in your limbs and making everything feel far too heavy.

You couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just let you be? Couldn’t he see that he had done more than enough, when it came to you?

Logically, you know it isn’t fair to blame him. Tommy wasn’t in control of anything his brother or pseudo-niece did. He had always tried to look out for you, and deep down, you know that he had truly believed that his brother would be good for you. He must have thought that, given Joel’s pre-outbreak experience, and now post-outbreak too, of being a father, he could’ve been that for you. Tommy couldn’t have known that Joel didn’t want another kid.

But that illogical part of you, the part that cowers away from everybody you meet, the part that was hurt, reminds you that it was his job to know. It was his responsibility to know what he was dumping you into. And more than that, Joel was his brother. How could he not have known?

You were the one who had ended up well and truly hurt from the encounter, not the other way around. So why did you feel guilty, every time Tommy’s expression at your scathing words popped into your mind? You hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, and you hadn’t said anything that he didn’t deserve to hear. So why? Why did you feel this unending twist of dread and guilt, eating away at your bones, your tissues, your organs?

Even now, as you worked a late night shift at the canteen, washing dishes, every time the water rippled, you could see his face. Distantly, you hoped Joel had felt like this, after what he had done to you. You hoped he remembered what he said, remembered your expression when you relayed his own message to him.

If you were honest with yourself, you think that if it had been Joel, you would’ve revelled in that expression. There’s a part of you, a part that is mean and bitter and full of resentment, that wants to hurt Joel, just like he had hurt you. You settle for staying as far away from him as you possibly can.

Joel had tried to see you a few times, back when it was fresh, with no luck from you. There was nobody in this world that you wanted to see less than him. At the very least, he got the message. Sometimes, you wonder if he had only shown up those few instances just for appearances. To make himself look better. It was no secret to the people of Jackson that Joel Miller was a questionable man, with an even more questionable past. But he did more for the town than most, so it wasn’t spoken about. Nothing more than whispers, anyway.

There had been a few whispers after your outburst at the Tipsy Bison, especially when somebody shared the news of your move across town. But it was chalked up to teenage dramatics, the youth, as if there really was such a thing.

Regardless, Tommy’s invitation to dinner was coming up in a mere two days. The knowledge of where and when it was happening made you uncomfortable, like an itch underneath your collar, it was stifling. Because that part of you, the one that wants to hurt Joel, also wants company. It craves a family, and that was a craving that had only ever come close to being fulfilled once. Still, it was a natural instinct within humans. Safety came in numbers, and there was comfort in having people you could trust. You wish that part of you could just be satisfied being solitary, because you’ll never go to that dinner. Not if you have anything to say about it.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Two hours until dinner, and the sun was beginning to set.

And here you were, axe in hand, staring down at the dwindling pile of wood that you needed to cleave into pieces. It wouldn’t last two hours. In reality, it wouldn’t even last one. Still, you stare as though the logs might multiply, hoping for the excuse out of a dinner you didn’t want to go to. And you know that you have no obligation to any of those people, you do know that, but it’s hard to believe it. Partly because you don’t want to. Because you’re torn between the satisfaction of succeeding on your own, and the fear of cutting off all ties to the only people you think you’ve truly cared about.

Being alone is a lot easier in theory.

In practice, it’s harder than you had thought. You were doing okay when they all left you to it, left you to live your own life. But an invitation means something, and that’s hard to ignore.

You bring the axe down, letting the severing of wood distract you from all thoughts of invitations and dinners and meanings.

It’s about the most physical task they’ll let you do — courtesy of Tommy, you’re sure — but you relish in it. Something about it is rewarding. Reminds you of your capabilities, your survival. The cold air burns your lungs, and each swing of the axe makes your muscles ache, but in a satisfying way. And doing it like this, alone, makes you feel unmistakably powerful.

You hear the crunch of footsteps behind you, not heavy enough to be Tommy’s or—God forbid—Joel’s. You paid them no mind, leaning down to move the chopped wood into the pile you had already assembled. You grabbed another log and placed it down, and just as you were preparing to swing the axe back up, you heard somebody clear their throat.

“Hey,” Ellie said, when you turned around. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet as you failed to reply, fiddling with the gloves on her hands. “So, uh, you having fun chopping wood?” She asked, apparently trying to clear some of the tension that surrounded the two of you, that clung. You leant the top of the axe blade on the ground, and sighed. Your breath clouded in front of your face.

“What do you want?” You asked, repeating the very same question you had asked Tommy, feeling all the more certain about your adamancy about not going to that dinner. Ellie’s brows furrowed slightly, but she quickly deflated as soon as you could see the defensive air starting to rise within her.

She shifted again, before speaking. “Just wondering if you’re coming to dinner? Tommy said he wasn’t sure.”

You did your best not to scoff, mostly succeeding, as you turned back to the wood awaiting your axe. With practiced ease, your axe rose, and swung down at the wood, separating it with a satisfying crack. “Wouldn’t count on it.” You said, as polite as you could say: no, no, I’m not fucking coming to dinner. You’re not my family. You don’t care about me. I don’t care about you. There’s nothing left here.

It was ridiculous for them to send Ellie to come and convince you to attend, of all people. Their best bet would have been Maria, who had never technically done anything that had hurt you. No, all of the fault laid with the Millers, and with Ellie.

The two of you could’ve remained friends, could’ve been something close to a family, but she didn’t want that. She chose to cut you out, to isolate you even further, to disappear from your life completely, despite being the only reason you had ever opened up to Joel. It was like she had taken a knife, and cut you open, let you warm, simmer, before leaving you out on the counter to cool. To rot.

“What happened to you?” Ellie asked, as if she didn’t know, as if she hadn’t been a part of it. Like there was no reason for your shift from being warm around her, to being ice cold. She had done this to you. At least, in part.

You didn’t say anything at first, choosing to finish chopping the wood in front of you, and piling it off to the side. Finally, you turned to her as she watched you, brows furrowed, lip curled defensively. “You people happened. You all fucking happened. Is that enough for you? Is that enough for why I don’t want to go to some stupid winter dinner?” You said, not raising your voice, but hearing more anger and irritation seep into your tone as you spoke.

She looked like she wanted to take a step back, but she stayed firm. “We all have our own problems,” Ellie told you, voice harsh and unrelenting as she spoke, and her expression hardened. “Everybody does! It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, okay?”

It would have been so easy to continue arguing with her, to descend into childish taunts and quips, to disguise genuine hurt with ridiculous arguments, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You said nothing, turning back to the depleting supply of unchopped wood.

Ellie seemed ready to burst. “Me and Joel have our own fucking problems! It’s not always good. But you can’t just give up on someone!” She said loudly, stepping towards you, ignoring the snow crunching underneath her shoes. It seemed to you that she was trying to convince herself, more than anything. Whatever she came to you with, now, wasn’t really about you. It was about her.

“I’m not the one who gave up, Ellie. You and Joel are more alike than you know. But at least he had the decency to tell me why he was giving up on me.” You told her, staying calm, despite the way your blood was rushing through your body, carrying so much adrenaline you felt like your heart may just burst.

She gaped at you, seeming more stuck on the concept of her and Joel being alike than on how she had hurt you. You figured it would go like this, though, if the two of you ever spoke again. It wasn’t a surprise to you. Everything in your life always turned out the way you expected it to. Even Joel and Ellie, in the end, had done as much, despite surprising you at first. It was inevitable. Your every worry, every fear, even the ones that Tommy had once labelled as irrational, had turned out to be true.

You wouldn’t go to the dinner.

Everything between you and the extended Miller family was in ruins, and like you, it couldn’t be salvaged. It was over with. Done.

Now, all that was left to do was wipe your hands clean of them.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

A/N: hello if you made it this far! it has been a WHILE. but in honour of ITDWS being posted a year ago today (!!!!!!!!!) i thought i’d give y’all SOMETHING!!! it’s not amazing but i hope you enjoy!!! life has been crazy + i haven’t been writing much but i still love and appreciate every single one of you <3 i think of you often.

[book-place]

Peaky Blinder Song

Warnings: violence, cursing, weapons, blood, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Shelby family x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Growing up as a Shelby wasn’t always easy, but at least your siblings were always there for you

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: The Jet Song by the cast of West Side Story

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

When you're a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way

“Well, would ya look at that,” Tommy mused, the slightest bit of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spoke.

At his words, John and Arthur looked up from their breakfasts in confusion before following their brothers line of sight to where you were waddling into the room, one of their caps upon your head.

Arthur let out a booming laugh and scooped you up into his arms, playfully rubbing his mustache against your cheek, emitting giggles from you, “Would ya look at that!” He agreed.

“Where’d ya get that?” John asked, reaching up and gently shaking your foot.

You began blabbering to your older brothers, ignoring the fact that the hat had fallen into your face, covering your eyes. Arthur calmly lifted it up, seriously nodding as if he could understand a single thing that you were trying to say.

“Give ‘er here,” Tommy ordered gruffly, standing up and gently taking you from his elder brother's arms, eyes softening as you looked up at him with that toothy grin of yours, “What’re ya doin’?” He asked in amusement.

“I think she’s ready to be a Peaky Blinder, Tommy,” John laughed as the other man had to lift up the hat away from your face again.

“Is that so?” He asked teasingly, reaching out and ticking your stomach a little bit, “You gonna be the leader of the Blinders now, little one?”

Arthur laughed again, “We don’t need you anymore, Tommy, we’ve got Y/n.” He said jokingly.

“I think you might be right, Arthur,” He said seriously, “Looks like n/n can handle it from here.”

You began blabbering again after a loud laugh, making your brothers all chuckle around you.

“We’ve got our own little Peaky Blinder here.” John declared.

From your first cigarette

“Come on now,” Finn said impatiently, “Hold it for me.”

Without a word, you did as your brother demanded, taking the object in your hands and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Finn Shelby.” The furious voice of your aunt made the boy tense up and freeze instantly.

“Polly,” He gulped, slowly turning around to face the woman.

The look on her face alone was enough to put him six feet under on the spot. He didn’t even want to think about what was going to happen to him.

“You better tell me right now why the hell my three year old niece is holding a cigarette, and if you don’t say that you found her like this, then you have something else coming for you.” The threat made him pale even further and his blood ran cold.

Oblivious to what was going on, you grinned up at your aunt, “Pol! Pol!” You cheered happily, dropping the cigarette and reaching your hands up to her.

Instantly, she stooped down and swept you into her arms, you snuggling closer to her hold without a second thought as your eyes fluttered shut and you sighed in contempt.

“What’s all the bloody racket in here?” Arthur inquired, stalking onto the room with Tommy following right behind.

“Your youngest brother tried handing a cigarette to your sister.” Polly didn’t once take her venomously dangerous glare off of the young boy.

By then, his eyes had begun to fill with tears, only for them to spring loose when the two older men’s heads snapped over to him.

“Finn,” Tommy spoke in that eerie stern voice that only he seemed to be able to master, “Is what she’s saying true?”

“I-I just wanted to be like you guys!” Finn sobbed openly, dropping his head into his hands, “I wanted to smoke and be like you!”

“And you though’ that makin’ our little sister hold your cigarette was the way to do that?” Arthur asked angrily, glowering at the boy.

He shook his head vigorously back and forth, “N-no!” He hiccuped, “I just had to do somethin’ so I needed her to hold in for a minute!”

“Oi!” Polly snapped in a harsh whisper, “Hush now, Y/n has fallen asleep.” She leveled a last glare at Finn, “We’ll deal with this later, young man.”

To your last dyin' day

A joyful laugh left your lips as you ran as fast as your little legs would take you down the alleyway.

True, Tommy and Arthur had told you to stay on the sidewalk where they could see you while you played, but it didn’t hurt to go for a little run to see how fast you could make it back.

Now five years old, you were constantly getting into mischief, reminding Polly too much of how the boys were when they were little.

You hadn’t been looking where you were going, your gaze was turned up towards the brightly lit sky, so you didn’t see the person standing in the middle of the alley until you ran right into his legs.

Stumbling slightly at impact, you quickly fell onto your backside with a small ‘oof’, a stinging sensation quickly making its way through your body from the pavement.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A malicious voice snarled from above you, causing your head to snap up with wide eyes.

The man whose legs you ran into was sneering down at you from the end of his greasy nose. And to you, he looked downright terrifying.

“I-I’m sorry Mr,” You mumbled with wide eyes, slowly crawling backwards, “It was an accident.”

He shot you a sinister smile, slowly stalking towards you, “Was it now?” He hummed mockingly.

Your head bobbed up and down as you nodded desperately, “It was, I swear it was!”

The man shook his head softly and clicked his tongue, “Now, I’m findin’ myself not really believing you, girl.”

You could feel your face pale even more at his words, “I’m sorry!” You tried again, panic swirling in your stomach. This man scared you, and you didn’t like it.

“Listen here, you little-“ He snarled, storming over to you and snatching your arm in a bruising grip and squeezing while dragging you to your feet, making you cry out in pain.

“What is going on here?” Despite the deadliness of the calm in his voice, you still sagged in relief the second you heard Tommy speak.

“Nothin’ to worry about, Mr. Shelby. Just takin’ care of this little bitch.” From the way he spoke about you, it was clear as day that he didn’t know who you were.

“Is that so?” There was no mistaking the flash of complete rage that appeared on your brother's face, “And what does my baby sister have to do with that?”

If you thought your face had been pale before, it was nothing compared to how the man looked when all the color drained from his face instantly. He let go of your arm, stumbling away as if having been burned by the contact of your skin.

As soon as you were free, you scrambled over to Tommy, hiding behind his legs and burying your face into his coat that hung near your head.

“M-Mr. Sh-Shelby,” He immediately began begging, “I-I swear to god I didn’t know who she was-“

“Clearly,” Tommy cut him off coldly.

“Listen- listen, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, I never would have done that if I had known-“ Tears had begun cascading down his cheeks.

“But ya did, didn’ ya?” He questioned rhetorically, “And now you’re gonna have to pay the price for messin’ with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”

A hand reached out and touched your shoulder and you flinched away immediately, not having heard someone approach. Whipping your head around, you were met with the sight of Arthur, holding his arms out to you.

After one glance at Tommy for confirmation, you grabbed onto your eldest brother's hand and followed him out the alley. When you tried to look back, Arthur simply turned your head away and quickened your pace to get you out of there.

Silence carried on in your absence for a moment, Tommy letting it drag on until the man looked like he quite literally was going to suffocate from it.

“Did ya see that?” He asked quietly, taking slow, menacing steps towards the man, “Did ya see how jumpy she was after what ya did to her? How she flinched away from Arthur?”

“Please, please- I’m begging you-“ The man had quite literally backed himself into a corner, his head frantically whipping around to try and find a way out.

“You scared my little sister,” He carried on, “You hurt her. And something like that… is unforgivable.”

Arthur closed the door to the house particularly loudly just in time for a gunshot to go off, silencing it slightly from your ears.

When you're a Jet

“What’d ya want?” Harry asked jokingly, leaning over the counter of the Garrison so he could look at you, “A drink?”

You giggled loudly at his words and shook your head, “Polly says I can't be drinkin’ anything from here yet!” You replied with a wide grin.

“Now, is that so?” He tapped his chin as if thinking about it, “I suppose your aunt is always right, though, ain’t she?”

You nodded your head in agreement, swinging your legs back and forth from the barstool you sat at.

“Oi!” John called, coming sauntering out of an office in the back, “Ya better not be lettin’ my little sister drink!” The smirk that played at the ends of his lips let you both know he was joking around.

“Nah!” Harry shook his head, “I tried to be cool and let her, but that little rascal is a rule follower, she is.”

John laughed loudly at that, reaching over and ruffling your hair, “That don’t sound like my sister.” He teased, “She don’t ever follow no rules.”

“She sounds like a certain group of boys I know.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.

“Now, what’re you insinuating?” John leaned back against a table and placed his hands in his pockets, “That she's actin’ like us Blinders?”

“I think so,” The man reached over and playfully flicked your nose, making you laugh so hard that you almost went tumbling off the stool.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough now.” John quickly lowered you to the ground, not trusting you not to fall off anymore.

“Imma Blinder!” You cheered, giving your brother a toothy grin.

He laughed, bending down and scooping you up, “Yeah, I suppose ya are.”

If the spit hits the fan, you got brothers around

“Yer nothin’ but a stupid little kid,” A boy a couple years older than you, about Finn's age, sneered down at you, his raised voice attracting the attention of the other students in the school yard.

Despite the tears that began to collect in your eye ducts, you glared at him, not backing down, “That isn’t true!”

Even though he was way taller and bigger than you were, you stood your ground. That is, until he gave you a shove back by the shoulders and you went sprawling to the ground.

He had been picking on you for having mud on your clothes after playing with a couple friends outside before school and even though you tried to walk away, he just wouldn’t leave you alone.

The crowd that had gathered around gasped when you hit the ground, clearly not expecting it to escalate that quickly and your cheeks turned red.

“Hey!” None other than Finn Shelby had pushed his way through the sea of kids with a glare set on his face that resembled that of your brothers.

“What do you want?” The kid rounded on him, glaring down at your brother, who was still at least a head shorter than him.

“That’s my sister.” Finn informed him through gritted teeth, as if the boy didn’t already know.

You sniffled slightly, scrambling up and making your way over to him, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention, “It’s okay, Finn.” You mumbled, “Let’s just go.” You didn't want either of you to get into any trouble.

He just shrugged off your hand though, sizing the boy up before reeling his arm back suddenly and without warning sent it flying into the boy's nose.

Almost instantly afterward, two teachers surged through the crowd and quickly pulled the two boys apart, the one that had been picking on you now crying and holding his nose.

You and your brother had to sit in the principal's office until one of your siblings or aunt showed up, the house having been called for one of them to come pick you up.

Not too long had passed before Tommy made his way through the door, demanding and controlling aura in tow.

He ignored the staff that tried speaking to him, immediately turning his attention to the two of you, “What happened, eh?” He demanded sternly.

“I saw this kid push Y/n,” Finn jumped up to explain, “So I punched him in the face! Just like you and Arthur taught me to!”

Your older brother's eyes quickly flickered over to you, giving your body a quick once over to ensure that you were alright.

“Okay,” He spoke before turning on his heel and exiting, leaving behind a stunned teacher and not turning back to see the two of you scramble up to follow.

After walking to the car, he opened the door and waited for you two to get in before sliding into his own side. He didn’t start the car though, just turned to you.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, to which you nodded your head, “Lucky Finn was there, then, eh?”

“I could’ve hit him too,” You insisted.

His lips quirked up, “I know, but it’s still good to have some backup sometimes.”

You were silent for a moment before turning to Finn, “Thank you for helping me.”

“He didn’t have the right to push ya,” He grumbled while leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

You're a family man

“Game night! Game night!” You cheered, sprinting into the living room before diving head first onto the couch.

“Mind your head,” Polly scolded, “Don’t need ya hittin’ it too hard that we have to end up takin’ ya to the doctors.”

“But it’s game night!” You cheered, falling backwards onto the couch with a large grin overtaking the entirety of your face.

“Did somebody say game night?” Arthur’s voice boomed into the room before he even entered it, with a smile that could be heard through his tone.

“I did!” You chorused back, “And I’m going to beat all of you?”

“Is that so?” John strode into the room with Tommy and Finn following close behind.

“Uh huh!” You agreed, turning your face as serious as you could make it in order to try and get your point across.

“Hmm,” John tapped his chin and pretended to think, “That's weird, ‘cause if I remember correctly, I was the winner of the last game night. Not you.”

You pouted at him, crossing your arms, “Well, I’m gonna beat ya this time!”

“Ya think so?”

“I know so!”

Arthur chuckled at your words and even Tommy softened a bit at the interaction.

You're never alone

“T-Tommy?” You called out hesitantly in the darkness, voice wavering as you spoke.

The man’s eyes immediately snapped open and he shot up, hand flying out to grab the gun that was kept under his pillow, “Y/n?” He echoed back, squinting to try and make you out through the dark room, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I-I had a nightmare,” You admitted in a whisper, shuffling your feet and toying with your fingers.

His entire being immediately sagged in relief, fingers loosening around the weapon once he realized that you were in no physical danger. He wasn’t stupid though, he knew how much of a danger dreams could be, how they could affect one’s mind.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, scooting over in the bed to make room, lifting up the blanket like an invitation.

You wasted no time before plunging onto the bed, cuddling up to your brother's chest, “Thank you,” You murmured shyly.

“No, need to thank me, sweetheart,” He mumbled, dipping his head so he could place a kiss on the top of your hair.

It was silent for a moment, and Tommy would’ve thought you had fallen back asleep if you hadn’t spoken up with an embarrassed whisper, “I know I’m eight now and I’m supposed to be a big girl, but it was really scary, Tommy.”

He let a small sign fall from his nose as he tightened his arms around you, “There’s no such thing as being too old for nightmares, sweetheart.”

You pulled away and looked up at him with wide eyes, “Really?”

He hummed, “I get them all the time.”

Your jaw was on the floor by then, “You do?” Never in a million years would you be able to picture your strong big brother having a bad dream.

“I do,” He repeated, “Do you want to talk about yours?”

Immediately, you shook your head into his chest, arms wrapping around his torso to the best of their abilities.

“Okay, alright,” He mumbled, leaving another kiss on your head, “You can go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything get you.”

You're never disconnected

You had no idea where you were. You spun around in circles but still couldn’t pinpoint your own location.

Earlier in the day, you had insisted to your brothers that they bring you to a marketplace that was in town, and they reluctantly relented and brought you. But now you couldn’t find them and the panic was starting to set in.

You gasped, whipping around when you felt a hand on your shoulder and were met with the sight of an unfamiliar man.

“Let go of me!” You demanded immediately, squirming out of his hold.

He raised his hands automatically, backing away from you, “Sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You didn’t scare me,” You grumbled.

“Hey, it’s alright. I work for your brothers.” He reassured you, but even though it was supposed to comfort you, it only made you even more suspicious of him.

Slowly, you took a step away from the stranger, ready to make a run for it, when the sound of thundering footsteps made you turn to your right, all your brothers rushing over to where you were.

“Oh, thank god,” John mumbled, coming to a stop and running a hand down his face when he saw you safe and sound.

“Daryl,” Tommy greeted, clearly knowing the man, “I am now in your debut. Thank you for taking care of her.”

The man, Daryl, tipped his hat to Tommy and shot you a playful wink, “‘twas my pleasure, boss. Just lucky I was in the area and saw her before anyone else did.”

You're home with your own

“You’re doin’ it wrong!” You insisted with a whine, bringing your foot down and stomping against the floor once.

“I’m following the directions!” Finn snapped back, “How am I doin’ it wrong if I’m following the directions?”

“You ain’t, though! You’re addin’ too much chocolate chips and not enough flour!” You were beginning to lose your temper with your brother.

He simply shrugged, “I don’t see the problem with havin’ any extra chocolate.” He tried to reason.

You dropped your head to the counter with a groan, “We need to make them special! We can’t do that if you don’t follow the recipe.”

Finn seemed to contemplate it for a moment before rolling his eyes with a sigh and beginning to undo what he had done, “Fine, we’ll follow your borin’ cookie recipe.”

“What’re you two doing?”

You both shrieked and whipped around at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Tommy, who had a single eyebrow raised in your direction.

“Makin’ cookies,” Your brother answered dumbly.

“No!” You shrieked, reaching over and slapping his arm, “It was supposed to be a surprise!”

The boy scowled, reaching up to rub the sore spot of where you had hit, “Not much of a secret, anyone could see what we’re doing.”

Tommy looked amused by the scene before him and put his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step out of the kitchen, “Just act like I wasn’t even ‘ere.”

You eagerly jumped on the opportunity and began shooing Finn back to what he was supposed to be doing to prepare the dessert.

When company's expected, you’re well protected

Tears silently ran down your cheeks as Polly held you close with a hand resting over your mouth, keeping you from making any noise to notify anyone of your presence.

A group of men had broken into your house while your brothers were out on business and began ransacking it. Your aunt had pulled you into a closet with her as soon as she had gotten wind of what was happening and hid the two of you behind an old pile of jackets.

“Shh, hush now,” She whispered as quietly as possible into your ear, “It’s alrigh’. We’re gonna be alrigh’.”

The walls muffled the exact words being spoken by the group of men, but you could still hear their voices and the sounds of their footsteps getting nearer and nearer to your hiding place.

“-thought you said the kid and old lady were still here,” You heard one of them grunt, meaning that they were a lot closer than before.

Polly held you tighter to her chest at his words.

“They are, I’ve been scouting outside this place all day and neither one of them has left.” A new voice shot back.

“Check the closets,” A third voice said, making you whimper softly.

Just then light poured into your small space, temporarily blinding you the second the door was roughly thrown open. Polly was quick to move you behind her, using her body as a shield against your own.

“I found them-“ He was cut off by the sound of multiple gunshots going off at once that automatically made your ears begin ringing, making it near impossible to hear anything else.

Slowly, you tried to peek around your aunt's body, but she quickly pushed you behind her once more, “Don’t look.” You could barely make out her words over the constant ringing.

“Giver ‘er ‘ere, Pol.” A voice- Tommy’s, you think- spoke through the haze, and you were carefully passed into the arms of your older brother, who maneuvered you in such a way that you couldn’t see the body’s that lay scattered all over the room, your other brothers standing over them to ensure that the job was done.

“You’re alright,” He whispered soothingly in your ear, striding out of the room with you as you desperately gasped for air and gripped onto his shirt like a lifeline, “You’re alright, I’ve gotcha now, I’ve gotcha.”

Sure, you’ve had scares in the past- it came with the line of work your family was in- but nothing compared to the heart gripping terror you experienced for the first time that day.

Of course, your family saved you just in time, though. Just like they always did.

Then you are set with a capital J

“Well, don’t you look fancy,” Arthur commented as you happily skipped into the kitchen.

You giggled a bit with a nod of your head, moving past where he and John sat at the table to grab and apple from the counter.

“What’s the occasion?” Your other brother piped up, glancing up from his own breakfast.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes teasingly at the two men, “I don’t need a reason to dress up,” You informed them, “I’m going to school! All the girls dress up now at school!”

John’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, and you’re doin’ what all the other girls are doin’ now?”

A hum left your lips as you floated over, placing a kiss on each of their cheeks before joyfully leaving the room.

Tommy entered just as you were leaving, receiving a large bear hug from you before you continued on your way, singing a song quietly to yourself.

“I don’ think I’ve ever seen anyone that happy to be goin’ to school.” The man commented.

“Tommy… I’ve just had an awful realization,” Arthur looked up at his brother with wide eyes, taking his little brothers raised eyebrow as a sign to continue, “I thinks n/n is growin’ up.”

“And what makes ya say that?”

“She’s goin’ to school all dressed up becuase it’s what all the other girls be doin’ now,” Arthur was talking with a horrified look on his face, “And I don’t like it, Tommy.”

The man rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, “She’s just dressing up a bit, Arthur, it’s not the end of the world. You can start worryin’ when she comes around talkin’ about boys, eh?”

“Boys?” Arthur paled even more, “I didn’ even think of that part.”

Which you'll never forget ‘til they cart you away

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” John asked softly, worry painting his features as he immediately dropped onto the couch next to you.

You had your head in your hands and tears were falling down your cheeks when you looked up, startled by your older brother's presence. You hadn’t thought anyone was home.

“John,” You immediately moved to wipe your tears away, but he gently caught your wrists, halting your movements.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, making sure he was looking you in the eyes as he spoke.

You sniffled slightly, shrugging harshly and trying to avert your gaze from his.

“Y/n,” He prompted, “I just wanna help ya.”

A sigh fell through your lips and you realized that it wouldn't hurt to just tell him, there was nothing he could do to change it anyway.

“A couple girls were making fun of me in school today.” You whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as you spoke, “I was called on for a question on the homework and I got it wrong.”

His eyebrows set in a furrow, “So they made fun of ya for it?”

You nodded tearfully, biting down on your lip and dropping your head in defeat.

“Hey, hey,” He cooed softly, gently taking your chin and moving it so you were looking at him again, “Wanna know what I want ya to do?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, “I want ya to go back to school tomorrow and show those girls exactly who they’re dealing with.”

It was then your turn to allow your eyebrows to dip in confusion, “Who?”

“You.” A smile tugged at his lips, “You’re a Peaky fuckin’ Blinder and nobody gets away with messing with one of them.”

You smiled now, tears having stopped springing from your eyes, “I’m a Peaky Blinder.” You repeated.

He grinned, reaching over ruffling your hair affectionately, “And don’ ya ever forget it.”

When you're a Jet, you stay a Jet

“Happy Birthday,” Tommy smiled one of his rare, real smiles with an even rarer twinkle in his eyes, “I hope ya like it.”

You were finally fourteen, and your whole family was gathered around the living room to celebrate, passing gifts upon gifts into your arms.

A gasp escaped from your lips as you opened the lid to the box and peered inside, “I-it,” You choked out, “It’s wonderful.”

You gently placed it to the side and sprang forward, throwing your arms around your brother's neck and bringing him in for a tight hug.

“All right, all right,” He said playfully, “Try it on now.”

Carefully, with the rest of your family gazing at you in wonder, you took out your very own Shelby family, Peaky Blinders cap.

Something that looked much like a distant memory flashed over Arthur and John’s faces instantly the second you placed it upon your head.

“Do ya remember when-“ John began, and Arthur nodded.

“When what?” You echoed in curiosity, looking at a nearby mirror and adjusting your new present.

“When the last time you wore one of those, it was too damn big for your own head,” Arthur laughed loudly at the memory.

Tommy chuckled fondly, “I remember.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave them wide grins, causing their hearts to squeeze tightly at the deja vu they were getting from seeing you like that.

When you're a Jet you’re the top cat in town

“M-Miss. Shelby,” A store owner stuttered out as soon as you opened the door to his bakery.

“Morning, sir.” You greeted kindly, having learned a long time ago not to take his fear to heart. No matter how nice you tried to be to people, no one was able to see past your family name. And oftentimes, you wouldn’t even complain.

“I- I have some freshly baked cakes!” His eyes widened at his own realization before quickly scrambling into the back and coming back less than a moment later with the treats in hand.

You shot him a smile, picking them up after he slid them along to counter towards you before reaching for your pocket for some money.

“Oh, oh no, Miss. Shelby.” He shook his head, “It’s on the house.”

A frown pulled on your lips, “But, sir-“

“It’s the least I could do,” He insisted, “Please, just take it.”

Hesitantly, you nodded before thanking him and making your way out of the store. Of course, this wasn’t even the first time something like this had happened to you or any other one of your siblings.

While you found it slightly worrisome, Finn found it downright hilarious.

You're the gold-medal kid, with the heavyweight crown

“Hey, oi, Johnny boy,” Arthur whispered, making the man look up from the newspaper in his lap, eyes following to where his older brother had inclined his head.

He felt a smile slowly grow on his face when he realized what he was looking at.

You were cuddled up between some pillows under a blanket on the couch nearby to them with an open book in your lap and your head dropped lazily to the side, having fallen asleep while reading.

“Should I wake her?” Finn asked mischievously from his seat beside John, who reached up and gave the boy a good whack on the back of the head, “I was only jokin’.” He grumbled.

“Let ‘er sleep,” Arthur said quietly, “Besides, she looks so peaceful right now.”

When you're a Jet, you’re the swingin'est thing

“I will push you in, Finn Shelby, don’t test me,” You warned as the two of you walked side by side on a bridge that hung a couple feet above the river.

The boy snickered, playfully shoving his shoulder against yours, “I’d like to see you try.”

A wicked glint settled in your eye, but it was gone before Finn could have been able to see it.

Deciding to wait until he let his guard down again, you allowed a few moments to pass in silence as you walked side by side, pretending to study the water.

Then, without giving him so much as a slight warning, you used all your force and sent him flying into the water down below.

You were holding onto your stomach and doubling over while cackling by the time he resurfaced, jaw dropped and a look of betrayal on his face, “Look whatcha did!” He complained.

“Oops,” You giggled before making your way over to the edge and sticking out your hand to help you up, feeling only a little bit bad about what you did.

He swam over to you and took your outstretched hand, but instead of using it to pull himself out like you thought he would, he yanked down on it hard, sending you toppling right after him into the freezing water.

You gasped as soon as you resurfaced, and he was now the one laughing at the look on your face, “That’s what you get!” He cheered.

Glaring at him slightly, you hit your hands against the surface, sending a big wave straight into his face.

He sat there, frozen for a moment, before slowly turning to face you fully and splashing you right back in the face.

Little boy, you're a man, little man, you're a king

You couldn’t help the wide smile that grew on your face as soon as you sat down at the table. All around you, your brothers and aunt chatted loudly amongst themselves whilst enjoying the first dinner you had all together in a couple of months.

“What’s got ya smilin’ over there?” Tommy asked from beside you.

“Just really happy that we’re all together right now,” You replied without so much as allowing your smile to falter.

His lips twitched upwards, “Yeah, me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

Shelby Family 💚- @kiyomi-uchiha777

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are Series

Where the Wild Things Are - Series Masterlist

"I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more...What I dread is the isolation."

Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 33.9K

Chapter One: Solitude

Chapter Two: You Say You Are Holy

Chapter Three: Parallels

Chapter Four: Snow Angel

Chapter Five: A Cold Death

Chapter Six: Cigarette Burns

Chapter Seven: Haunted Memories

Chapter Eight: Because of You

[prentissluvr]

too cold — joel (and tommy) miller

gn!reader , (future)fatherfigure!joel (and tommy tbh) , takes place a year or two after joel and ellie settle in jackson , reader is in their mid/late teens , hurt/comfort, angst , cw : brief mentions of loss of friends and family, hypothermia , wc : 3.8K , special thanks to @piggyjeans for reading this for me and motivating me to wrap up this part and get it out to you guys !! <333

at this point, you’re beginning to wonder why you even try. you wonder if there’s a point when the scraps of any family you had left, found or biological, are long gone and you’re on the brink of freezing to death yourself. you managed a fire last night, but you’re shivering beyond control even in the daylight with your sore lack of a real coat. wherever you are, it’s cold as hell and winter is setting in far faster than you could ever combat. essentially, you’re screwed. it seems like it might snow more, there’s not a building in sight, and you’re running out of bullets and food. the cold bites at your exposed nose and takes permanent root in your bones.

night falls far too quickly, bringing the thick snow that you feared almost as much as infected or people; those you could fight, but the snow? against that you have no defense but a sputtering fire, measly shelter, and a slowly thinning sleeping bag. curled into yourself as much as you can, it takes a concerningly small amount of time for you to fall asleep.

by the time you finally come back into consciousness, the struggle to open your eyes scares you even in the muddled state of your mind. the sun is far higher than ideal; already you’ve lost precious traveling time now that your only hope is to find abandoned buildings to scavenge for supplies. and yet, the last thing you want to do is get out of your sleeping bag. it’s kept you as warm as you could be, and even now in the leftover warmth sleep, you’re all too aware of the snow that blew into the small overhand of rocks you slept underneath and the way it’s freezing temperatures will soak into your feet until it reaches every nerve of your body when you continue your trek through the forest.

but, despite that heavy question of what’s the point, there’s no way you’re going to let yourself give up and waste away in the cold without trying to save someone, even if that someone is yourself. so with every struggle, you pull your hands out from their haven in the swaths of fabric, fumbling slightly to zip open the bag and pull yourself out. you’re eternally grateful that you have gloves, but within the few minutes of packing up, the cold has already started to settle in your hands, feet, and face. begrudgingly, you swing your pack onto your shoulder and shove your hands into your pockets, looking for the most direct path to higher ground to scope out any buildings.

as you start out, it seems as though travel may not be the worst. but the thick snow from last night’s flurries and the still slowly falling flakes are quick to tire your legs from the effort, and the way that your jacket lets in too much of the numbing wind hinders your pace. you find yourself exhausted, taking moments to rest against trees that stretch into minutes, maybe longer as your mind becomes foggy and consistent shivering sets in throughout your whole body. 

you stumble a bit and clumsily grab hold of the nearest tree. what the hell am i doing? you wonder. you let your whole side press against the rough surface of the tree, squeezing your eyes shut, then opening them in attempts to clear your head. but that doesn’t seem to help when you start to wonder if you’re hallucinating. just meters away your eyes land on a tall brown horse, an animal you don’t think you’ve seen outside of pictures. you stare at it in wonder for a moment, but a feeling of panic sets in when you process the fact that there’s a man sitting on the horse, a large rifle strapped across his back.

with your shaky hands you fumble around to pull out your gun, but it does you no good when the rifle is pointed at you in seconds. 

despite the threat, the man’s voice isn’t harsh when he calls out to you. “’s alright. ’m not here to hurt you, alright? just drop your weapon.” without much resistance, you do as he says, seeing no other choice and feeling not an ounce of energy to fight back. within moments, he’s off the horse, one hand on its reins and the other put up in the air in a careful truce as he slowly moves closer to you. when he’s near enough that the snow doesn’t obstruct his view of your face, he can see the way that you’re shivering and the unfocused look in your eyes and can immediately notice that something’s not quite right.

“i need you to tell me if you’re infected. don’t lie now, alright? i’ll shoot you if i find out you do.” at this, his voice is more stern, stirring up a bit more fear in you. but you’re able to shake your head clearly.

“no. no, ’m not infected. haven’t run into any for days,” you speak aloud for the first time since you woke up this morning, and you don’t notice the way that your speech is slurred, but he does.

“alright, then. kid, i’m gonna get you somewhere warm, okay?” in the back of your head, you’re terrified to let him closer, to let some stranger lead you somewhere, but the promise of warmth is something you desperately need. even so, you flinch away when he’s finally right next to you and reaches out. “i promise ’m not gonna hurt ya. i’ve got somewhere safe and warm for you, you’re gonna freeze to death if you don't get some help now.” he’s completely right, you realize, so you just nod. “there ya go. do’y have a coat we can get on you?” he frowns when you shake your head, but doesn’t hesitate to unzip his own padded coat. gently, he pulls your pack off your back and sets it down. you don’t even realize what he’s doing until he shrugs his own coat over your shoulders and pulls it tight over your front. the leftover warmth from his own body is heavenly, but in the action, you lose your support against the tree and unconsciously lean into his firm frame. you don’t notice, but he stiffens at this, and his frown grows deeper when he feels how cold you are to the touch.

with strong hands, he pulls you away from him slightly. wordlessly, he guides your shivering arms into the sleeves of his coat, silently grateful for the warm jacket he still has on.

“we’ve gotta get on the horse, now.” 

you just nod, letting him guide you to the tall animal. but you stop short at its side, completely unsure of how you’ll get up.

“first you put your right foot in the stirrup, right here.” you don’t have to say anything for him to begin telling you what you need to. “put your hand on the saddle here to help you up. i’m gonna hold you steady, okay?” you nod, letting him place his firm hands on your waist as you put the last of your strength into lifting one foot into the stirrup. “now you’ve gotta push up with that foot to swing your other leg over the horse.” it takes all of your concentration to understand what he says, and strength that you don’t have to actually do it. it’s messy, but thanks to his help and some miracle, you find yourself on top of the horse and putting all of your effort into staying upright.

“there ya go. i’m gonna get on in front of you, don’t you fall off now.” he quickly fastens your pack onto the horse, letting out a small grunt as he pulls himself up onto the animal. his body warmth right in front of you is precious and you don’t have it in you to feel awkward in the way he does as he pulls your arms around his torso to keep you steady. “just hold on and stay awake, alright? shouldn’t be too long til we get you warm.” once again, you just nod, knowing he can feel it with the side of your face pressed against his back.

as the horse starts forward at a decent pace, his instructions of holding on prove to be harder than ideal with your weakened grip. you don’t know how much time passes until the horse’s movement stops and the man’s voice, along with another, meets your ears.

you startle when the unfamiliar voice calls out. “joel! what took you so lon– what happened?”

“sorry, tommy.” you can feel the rumble of his voice while pressed against him, and turn your head to face the source of the other voice. “found ‘em leaning against a tree just a bit off the path. think they’ve got hypothermia.”

there’s another man on a horse, probably younger, but you can’t tell much else in the snow and the state of your mind. either way, you can’t help but read him as a danger. the man in front of you, joel, you assume, must have picked up on your fear behind him

“’s alright. that’s my brother, tommy. he’s here to help too, okay?” 

another nod from you, and a “damn” from tommy.

“let’s get going, then. we’ll stay in the lookout for tonight then get them back to jackson first thing in the morning. it’ll be dark soon.”

joel agrees, and with that, you set off. every so often, his voice brings you out of your daze long enough for you to nod your head against his back when he checks if you’re still awake. your sense of time is long gone; all you know when you arrive at the mentioned lookout is a vague sense of relief. 

“kid?” his voice rings out and you realize the motion of the horse has finally come to a stop. you do your best to sit up, hating the biting air that immediately hits your front now that it’s not kept warm by joel’s back. your hands stay resting absentmindedly on his shoulders in order to keep you from slipping off of the horse. “tommy’s gonna help you off, okay?” you let out a small hum of acknowledgement as tommy dismounts his horse and comes to stand beside you.

“here we go,” he gives you a small, encouraging smile as he lifts his arms up for you. “put your hands on my shoulders, and i’ll get you down safe ’n sound, alright?” it’s a bit of an awkward reach, and you begin to slip down before you have a proper grasp, but his hands are quick to secure themselves under your armpits, preventing you from falling and instead pulling you into his chest. your knees buckle the moment they hit the ground; tommy’s strong grip keeps you upright. “there you are, ’s alright. god, you’re shivering like a leaf in the wind. we’ll get you nice and warm now.” 

there’s a bit of a struggle getting inside, your legs practically refusing to hold your weight. an immense wave of relief washes through you when you collapse onto the couch they bring you to and you let your eyes shut in exhaustion.

“now don’t you fall asleep on us quite yet,” joel warns. “we gotta get you warm first. tommy, get some hot water going.” you force your eyes back open to see him crouching in front of you. “listen, uh. some of your clothes are a little wet from the snow, and we can’t have that.” he pauses at that, studying your face to catch any sort of reaction.

“okay,” you whisper, somehow coherent enough to still understand what he’s saying and know that he’s right.

“okay,” he repeats. “can i take these jackets off?” you nod. his grip is gentle when he pulls you up from your slouched position, allowing you to lean into him when he slips off the coat he gave you, then your own slightly damp jacket. you begin to shiver even harder, your thinning cotton shirt doing nothing to keep any cold at bay. “alright, alright,” he mumbles, half to himself as he pulls his thicker, dry coat back around you. then comes a blanket, taken from the couch and wrapped securely around your shoulders. he shifts you to rest against the back of the sofa.

that’s when he pauses, at a bit of a loss of what to do because your jeans, despite your thick boots, are soaked from the snow almost up to your knees. but there’s no way in hell he’d feel comfortable taking off your pants, much less how you’d feel. 

“i’m gonna have to cut your pants,” he concludes. “promise we’ll get you new ones in town, but you’ll never get warm like this.”

“’s okay,” you mumble. so he rummages in his pack until he finds a pair of scissors, doing his best to avoid touching your bare skin with his hands or cut you with the cold metal. it’s tricky business; the jeans stick fairly close to your skin, but he manages not to even nick you with the sharp edges. the moment you’re free from any damp clothing, he wraps another blanket securely around your legs so it won’t fall off. 

moments later, tommy reappears in your line of sight with exactly what joel asked for. he leans down, holding it out to you. with shaky hands, you grasp the cup, sighing in immediate relief at the warmth that spreads right into your fingers through your gloves.

“careful, now,” tommy advises. “it’s real hot, don’t burn your tongue.” you do your best to follow his instruction, weakly blowing at the hot water when you bring it close to your mouth. resisting the urge to down the whole thing, you grip it tighter and bring it to your chest, hoping to let some of the warmth permeate through other parts of your body other than your hands. it feels like a little piece of heaven when you feel the steam rising up to warm your chin, your lips, and the tip of your nose and the heat from the cup itself travel through your thin shirt and to the skin above your collarbone.

when you finally begin to sip on the warm water, it’s almost glorious; you can feel its warmth spread through your body. so once you discover it’s no longer too hot, you take long gulps and heave heavy sighs of relief. your trembling doesn’t disappear, but with the third cup, it certainly subsides.

this, and the far more relaxed expression on your face finally convinces joel that it’s safe to let you fall asleep—you’re halfway there anyways. tommy takes the empty cup from your hands before it can slip from your hold, and joel unravels your sleeping bag. at that point, you can no longer process the softly spoken words being exchanged by the brothers, but you’re vaguely aware of tommy’s arms tucking themselves under your shoulders and knees and pulling you off of the couch. then you’re being maneuvered into the sleeping bag that now lays across the surface of the couch, tommy setting you down while joel ensures that you stay properly wrapped up in the blankets. sleep claims you so quickly that you don’t hear the agreement between the two men to take turns keeping watch over you to periodically check your temperature and breathing.

joel wakes you in the morning, his gruff voice quickly recounting the events of the previous day when your jumbled state of mind after waking from such a deep sleep launches you into a panicked confusion. his explanation and comforting hands on your shoulders calm you in moments as the memories return, however vague they are due to the haze of your sickness.

“thank you,” you whisper as he helps you to sit up, his hands still gentle and supportive on your shoulders.

“course. like i said, we’ve got somewhere safe for you if you need. and at the very least, we’ve gotta get you some new pants and make sure you don’t get sick. were you travelin’ all alone?”

“not at first,” you explain, knowing he’s probably wondering about finding someone so young alone. “but now… yeah.” he sighs as if that’s the answer he expected.

“’m sorry,” he frowns. you just give a tight-lipped smile in response. “alright. we should get moving so we can get you to the town doctor. tommy’s gettin’ the horses ready.”

your eyebrows raise at his words. “town doctor?” you question. that puts a small smile on his lips that you don’t quite understand.

“yep. it’s a good place to be,” is all he offers in explanation.

“okay.” you begin untangling yourself from the blankets and sleeping bag that did the job of keeping you warm throughout the night. still covered by his coat, your upper half stays comfortable, but the feeling of your exposed calves hitting the cold air is unwelcome, not to mention the slightly embarrassing sight of the jagged edges of your jeans at such an awkward spot. 

“sorry ‘bout that,” he comments, “but we’ll keep your legs wrapped up with blankets for now and get you new jeans in town.” once you nod, he grabs a hold of one of the blankets he laid on top of you after you feel asleep, a rather small piece of fabric, but the right size to help you out. he wraps it around your left leg, using ropes from his supplies to gently secure the fabric, then repeating his actions for your other leg.

as he does so, he keeps his gaze focused on his task, but his gravelly voice meets your ears. “realized we never asked your name,” he phrases it like a statement, but the obvious question is there.

to be honest, you hadn’t even realized either, first, mind clouded by the hypothermia, and up until now too caught up in the oddness of your situation. one moment you’re all on your own and on the brink of death, the next you’re saved and seemingly on the way to what sounds like some sort of miraculous safe haven even from the vague glimpses of information you hear.

you state your name, hoping with all you can muster up that this isn’t some kind of cruel trick, and that the kindness the two men have shown you is as genuine as it’s proved to be thus far.

“well then,” he repeats your name back to you as he secures the last knot, still not looking up at you, “let’s get you home.”

those words nearly knock the air from your lungs. he throws them out like they don’t mean much, but in the most confusing way, because you’re sure he did it on purpose. you’re sure he does know that they mean a whole lot more than a casual tone and avoided eye-contact, but you suppose you can’t blame him. it’s often easier to pretend they don’t mean anything, certainly much more with people you don’t really know at all, people like you. and yet, you can’t help but think he said it to reassure you. to tell you that this place he’s talking about is one where you can find that thing everyone in this world has lost. as if it’s somewhere you already belong without having set foot in it yet. and you can’t tell the difference between hope and fear in that moment, so you shove it all away.

“sure.” you stand just after he does, grabbing your sleeping bag and beginning to roll it to the best of your ability while still weak. but he stops you, quickly taking over the task of clearing and packing up the last few things in the lookout after handing you a cup of warm water, not too hot. you finish it quickly, still more than grateful for any warmth that can be provided.

joel motions towards the door once he’s finished, and on still slightly wobbly legs, you walk up to him, stopping before he can lead you out.

“thank you, joel,” your voice is quiet, but sure when you say it.

“of course,” he assures, genuine in the affirmation.

“and tommy. tommy, too, of course,” you stutter, suddenly feeling awkward.

“sure thing.” he clears his throat, one his occupied hands almost moving up to rub the back of his neck. at that he turns, and you follow him out, back into the cold.

the shivery weather is not welcome by you, but in a properly warm coat and definitively out of the worst of your condition, it’s far more bearable. you feel bad for taking over joel’s coat, but he seems just fine in his jacket that’s clearly far warmer than your old, lousy excuse of a winter garment.

tommy and the horses are waiting there, just as joel said, and he smiles upon seeing you.

“good to see you up and alive, kid,” he grins with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

you answer his playfully reassuring attitude with a bashful smile of your own. “yeah, the alive part is definitely a plus,” you say in attempts of matching his tone. the way his grin grows tells you the joke landed, putting you at even more ease than before. unfortunately, it doesn’t make the way you formally introduce yourself to him any less awkward, but he seems glad to know your name. by your side, joel tightens one last strap on the horse before placing a careful hand on your shoulder.

“i think we’re good to go now. it’ll only be a few hours of riding,” he informs.

“sure,” you nod. pausing for a moment, you cast eyes down before speaking, albeit a bit timidly. “could you.. could you help me up again?”

you completely miss the soft look on his face at your request. “course i can, kiddo. i’ll get up first and help you from there, okay?” at your affirmative, he easily mounts the horse before holding a hand out to you. “just put your foot here, grab my hand, and i’ll do all the work, alright?” he moves his leg away from the stirrup so that you can use it yourself, his grip on your hand steady the moment you place it in his palm. gratefully, you follow his instructions, doing your best to use your own strength in tandem with joel to ease the effort he has to put forth to help you up. as you swing your leg over the horse, he guides your hand to hold onto his shoulder for you to grip far easier than his hand and succeeds in getting you into the saddle behind him. with that, you’re off, traveling somewhere that you somehow dare to hope is the sort of paradise joel and tommy have described.

,

part two here !!

[thek1ngtalks]

Prompt: Touching your soulmate leaves a temporary mark that fades after a few hours.

Dream, Tommy, Niki, Wilbur, Eret, Quackity, Ranboo, Fundy

Dream loves leaving thumb stokes, swirling over your cheekbones and brushing down your arms. His hand leaves neon green stains and sometimes he traces obscenes pictures onto your palms just to make you laugh when you notice a few minutes later.

Tommy leaves pastel red smears. Across your back and neck, where he had pulled you closer with his arm. Handprints against your palms, because he really likes holding your hand. He'll draw hearts on your arms and dicks on your face if you fall asleep near him.

Niki draws flowers on your crown. A gentle watercolor pink. Hand prints on your face from where she cupped it, just to admire at you. Your hands are entirely pink because she loves fiddling with them.

Wilbur's handprints are on your shoulders, because he sometimes just claspes them to lead you around in public. They are a soft and dewy blue, a little bit of sunshine. There are spots of blue peaking through your hair because he also likes setting his chin on your head, patting you, pressing his thumb to your crown in a mock simba moment.

Eret is a bright pink mixed with soft hues of purple. They swirl together around your waist. When his hands trail mindlessly over your arms, they're stained magenta for hours. He drops soft kisses on your nose and leaves a bright pink lip stain on your eyelids.

Quackity presses his arms against yours, leaving dewy yellows and deep blues marks that layers over themselves. There are soft brushes across your forehead and over your ears after he tries to push away every strand of baby hair's blocking your face. There are imprints of his head from when he slept across your lap.

Ranboo leaves red and green fingerprints on the back of your hands and arms. Brushes across your back, a few odd spots on your legs when he pokes you with his feet. He likes leaving two stains under your eyes, like eyebags but distinctly unnatural.

Fundy has handprints on your back and knees, because he likes slapping them just to mess with you. Soft rising sun orange lines tracing over your knuckles, wrapping around your palms. A blob with a tail rest on your collarbone, you think he mightve been trying to draw a fox.

{《☆》}

[I really quickly wrote this during passing periods and I will admit, I am starved for affection. This is definitely a cry for help. Please feed me internet likes to curb this horrible medical condition plaguing me.]

[Anyways I have a whole hunking load of soulmate prompts that I apparently wrote down months ago for 500 followers special that I never ended up doing and is now dying in my main acc's drafts. I might go through a few more for fun like I did this one, with short answer prompts for a handful of cc's. Or maybe I'll write official ones longer than 1k, only God knows (and me ig).

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Main Acc: @k1ng0fn0b0dy

[faye-writes-stuff]

welp here we go again

INCORRECT QUOTES TIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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Y/n: petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday Dream: Wednesay Y/n: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

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Y/n: Dream, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power! Dream: Well of course I have. Dream: Have you ever tried going mad without power? Dream: It's boring.

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Y/n: Today is a day of running through hurdles. Ranboo: Aren’t you supposed to jump OVER hurdles? Y/n: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

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Y/n: Ranboo... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? Ranboo: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Y/n: Y/n: I wrote sanitize, Ranboo

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Y/n: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail Sapnap: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

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Y/n: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Sapnap: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

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George: Welcome, fellow idiots Y/n: Hello, George George: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot Y/n: You underestimate me

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George: *Gets down on one knee* Y/n: Oh my god, it’s finally happening. George: *Falls over* Y/n: The poison is kicking in.

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Tommy: Change is inedible. Y/n: Don't you mean inevitable? Tommy, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

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Tommy: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Y/n's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get them out...

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Tubbo: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running? Y/n: Oh, I’m always running Y/n: The question is from what

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Tubbo: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Y/n: It’s not a joke. Y/n: *sniffles* Y/n: I’m a legit snack.

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Foolish: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao Y/n: What did you do op? Foolish: A MISTAKE

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Y/n: Foolish... Foolish: Oh no, 'Foolish' in b-flat. Foolish: You're disappointed.

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Technoblade: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Y/n: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Technoblade, desperately, as Y/n bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Y/n: Oh! B positive. Technoblade: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Y/n:

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Technoblade, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. Y/n: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Technoblade, with the tone of someone who is used to Y/n: Outstanding. Technoblade: This is what I’m talking about people.

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Technoblade: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Y/n: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Technoblade: Absolutely not.

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i accidentally hit post on this too early so if you saw this b4 it was finished- no you didn't

ANYWAYS enjoy, because the last one got over 300 likes so

ic master list :)

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Imagine Being Thomas Shelby's Twin

Platonic!Shelby Family x Fem!Reader

Various x Shelby!Reader Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of past childhood neglect, period-typical sexism. The image below is just to visualize what a twin for Tommy could look like.

“You’re left, I’m right, therefore I’m never wrong.”

Aside from Polly, you know Tommy’s mind the best.

As children, you and Tommy were always together. Tommy would lead the way as you raced from one misadventure to the next. As his right hand it was your obligation to help him execute his tricks. Of which you were eager to join.

It was a common joke between you and Tommy to pretend to read each other’s minds. You would take hours practicing how to mirror each other’s body language and finishing each other’s sentences. The payoff was always excellent, and it resulted in most of Birmingham believing that the two of you had a genuine psychic link. Even as adults, you like to behave as if you can communicate telepathically. With how in tuned you are to one another, that ability could very well be real. 

As teenagers, you and Tommy drifted apart somewhat. He was always on the move. There was always some plot, some brawl, some girl. You were more than willing to help, but you became more of a thinker than a doer. Tommy could see that, and so he left you out in favor of using your brothers instead. Which hurt.

Although Tommy would grow into a prideful young gangster, he was still a dreamer. He would stay up late with you to go over his dreams and schemes. Together, you drafted up a gilded vision of what the Shelby family could be someday. To you, it was a lovely idea. To him, it was a bright future.

Back then, the days were bright and filled with laughter. You had a long line of admirers for your brothers to chase off, and Tommy had an equally long line of girls for you to warn. You used to walk on the sunnier side of life. Always thinking about the good in the world and prone to smoothing over the uglier parts to hide them away. Tommy used to say you had a “head full of flowers.” 

Things changed after the war. 

You absolutely joined your brothers in the war as a volunteer nurse. It was hard to leave home, but you had to stand by your brothers. Nothing could have prepared you for what lied ahead. 

Tommy was a different person when he came back, so were you. You still liked to laugh and dance, but your laugh felt hollow. He started talking about changing the family’s fortune much more often. Almost every night after the war he would stay up with you, planning all the ways he could strike gold. This time, you weren’t just dreaming, you were plotting right along with him. 

No matter the cost, you would see your family rise.

Aside from Polly, you know Tommy’s mind the best. You know when he’s lying, even when he’s lying to himself. When nobody can get through to him, they go to you. For your siblings, you act as an excellent sounding board for their potential requests or inquiries. Of course, Tommy can always tell when John or Arthur had spoken to you before pitching an idea to him… but it’s fine.

You are the right to his left and the heart to his mind. Together, you two are dangerously close to a functioning human being.

To Tommy, you are a sensitive spot. He bends easier to demands you make and he tends to listen more to your words. You are also someone that makes him very vulnerable. There are things Tommy has told you that no one knows about, not even Grace.

If you must accompany him to meet with potential associates and rivals, he keeps you close. 

That certainly hasn’t stopped certain men from trying to charm you. Billy Kimber, Darby Sabini, Alfie Solomons, Luca Changretta, Jack Nelson, and (sadly) Mr. Oswald Moseley. All the boys can’t help but turn their heads as you walk by. And it leaves your brother mildly stressed as they lose focus on the meeting to watch you reapply your lipstick.

Oswald seems the most determined to have his way with you. Something about having you would be the greatest victory against Tommy, fucking his precious twin. Luckily, you see through him and are disgusted. The same cannot be said for other would-be suitors.

Alfie Solomons has a sort of rawness that you find refreshing. He speaks in riddles and yet is unblinkingly straightforward. You like the way he tips his hat to you. Luca Changretta is one man you still think about at night. Had the mess with Angel Changretta never happened, you feel like you could've been happily married to a man like Luca. Jack Nelson has caused you almost as many problems as Alfie. He speaks plainly but not without calculation. The way he flirts is so smooth you forget it's happening. Tommy has refused your offers to go to America in his stead.

When and if you marry, it’s likely the marriage would be to someone Tommy sees as an asset. He won’t just let his good twin marry some oaf with no prospects. Expect him to demand a bride price for you along with a caravan filled with goods. 

For Tommy, you are his humanity. The side of him that still sees God in all things. The part of him that may yet go to heaven when she dies. Tommy must protect you, even as he resents you. If he were to ever lose you, God save his enemies.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐰 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

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: 5.3k

chapter summary: You and Joel spend the night together.

warnings: piv sex, oral sex, breath play, dirty talk, fingering, spitting, cockwarming

Chapter Eight || Chapter Ten

You know these walls too well - they're thin as paper, carrying every sound from one room to the next. You can still vividly remember waking up to the sounds of your grandparents' murmurs and footfalls in the early hours of the morning when you and August were just kids. Sound travels easily when you aren’t careful. Both you and Joel had been cautious climbing up the stairs. August was still in the shower.  You can make out the steam billowing from under the bathroom door like a fiery dragon with sharp teeth. 

You close the door silently, Joel right behind you. He’s seen your room before but it feels different now, having him here. The air that surrounds you is heavy with tension and blurted out confessions. You didn’t think much when you invited him upstairs. All you knew is that you didn’t want to part from him. You wanted him to stay. Finding it too difficult to face him, you tentatively walk up to the window, your fingers curling around the edge of the curtains with the intention to close them. 

You can't help but think about the way his room is just across from yours. On your second day of living here, you noticed that your room looked directly into Joel's. It's like you're connected by some invisible thread. Tommy had stopped by later in the day, offering to show you around. You didn’t really need him to show you around. You already knew these parts well. But you accepted his kind offer anyway, knowing that the other man just wanted to get to know the new neighbor.

Joel creeps up behind you. His body firm and strong, his heat suffocating, his presence enough to crush you into nothingness. You notice the curtains to his bedroom are drawn tight and your stomach churns with something unpleasant. Joel traces a path down the delicate fabric of your dress with the back of his fingers, his touch following the gentle curve of your spine. You lean into his touch. The curve of your ass brush against the front of his jeans, and you can't help but let out a breath, the sound echoing through the quiet room. Your heart beats so loudly in your veins that you're sure Joel can hear it too.

“This is going to sound creepy but I always hated it when you closed the curtains.”

“I’ve never had a stalker before. It’s sweet.” he teases, kissing your shoulder. “Did you look into my room often?”

A puff of air escapes through your nostrils, “I wouldn’t say often. Just on days I felt lonely. It was more frequent when I first moved in, though. You were so cold to me back then.” 

“I had to be,” he murmurs, his voice sounding almost in pain. Guilty. “I was tryin’ to keep away from you.”

“Why?” 

“You know why.” 

You do. It’s more clear to you now. You think of all the times when Joel felt like nothing but a grumpy neighbor. Back then you had no inkling that his unpleasant mood had anything to do with Tommy. You also weren’t aware that Tommy wanted you in any way else but a friend. Guilt gnaws at your insides—you should stop this right? You should tell Joel to go home and wait until one of you explained the situation to Tommy. The younger Miller was contempt to be your friend, but would he be as understanding if he learned you were screwing his brother? You’re pretty postive that’s a big no-no in the brother handbook. Your thoughts wander to August. If the two of you fancied the same person, and said person chose him…you would want him to come clean right? It would be better compared to the alternative: Tommy catching you on Joel’s lap.

A chill settles at the end of your spine. You ignore the sudden excitement coursing through your veins. This isn’t quite the moment to be exploring what kinks you may or may not have. Almost angrily, you yank the curtains closed and turn to Joel. You throw your arms over his broad shoulders, pulling him close. 

Joel hums. His hands move up the back of your thighs, your skin prickles with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You feel the fabric of your skirt gather and lift, revealing more of yourself to him. Calloused fingers follow the swell of your ass. He feels the lace with his fingertips, tracing the patterns. It tickles. You feel a dampness collecting at the seam. Joel leans in, and you’re half convinced he knows the mess gathering between your thighs as he brushes his lips against yours. 

“This feels like a dream,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed. 

“It’s not, sweetheart. Hey, look at me,” And you do. His pupils are blown wide like he’s taken every drug on the planet. Your pulse quickens. You feel the warmth of his hand envelop yours. He places the tingling limb against the front of his pants. You apply pressure. Feeling the thickness through his jeans. “See? You can feel me, right? Feel how hard you make me. I’m all flesh and bone, darlin’. Real. This ain’t no dream you’re gonna wake up from.” he lets out a deep, shuddering breath. “So if you want to stop, better tell me now.” 

You look into his eyes. You know that he means it. You know that if you show even a hint of reluctance, he would stop, no questions asked. He’s a good man. You can tell he’s trying very hard not to avert his gaze so you don’t think that he’s lying. Your heart beats steadily, every slow pump loud and deafening in your ears. Lifting your hand, you cup his cheek. His reaction is imminent. You feel the scruff of his cheek scratching the inside of your palm. The chafe alone to rising goosebumps over your warm skin. Somewhere you hear a clock. In his eyes, you see Dali’s Persistence Of Memory; colorful clocks melting away like cheese. Time is fleeting. Crumbling away. You’ve never felt that notion as strongly as you do now. As if the world is coming to an end soon; your body reacting and trying to warn you—SEIZE THIS MOMENT BEFORE IT’S GONE. 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes. Your steady heart now beating a mile a minute. You’re having trouble understanding what’s happening. Joel is here. He’s not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere either. So why is your body reacting like it’s about to cease to exist? 

“I want this,” you gasp, voice quivering. “I don’t want to stop, Joel. I don’t want to waste any more time.” 

“Neither do I, darlin’.” 

Joel strips you slowly, stealing kisses as he lowers the zipper at the back. His fingers dance over the exposed skin and slide up to your shoulders. He pushes down the straps of your dress. Your breath catches in your throat. Joel doesn’t allow the dress to fall, instead, he holds it gently and pulls it down, kneeling as he does so. You feel his lips on your bare thighs. He moves up to your clothed sex and presses his lips against the mound, inhaling your scent. Arousal builds sticky and wet underneath the fabric. Your legs start to tremble, prompting Joel to grip the back of them, steadying you. He makes his way up leisurely. Kissing your stomach, the skin above your sternum and following a path to your neck. 

By the time he reaches your lips again, you’re begging him to touch you. His name a prayer exhaled from your lungs. His tongue follows the seam of your lips and as you open up for him, he undoes the clasp of your bra. It falls to the floor softly, joining your dress. He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. Joel presses into you, his large hands cupping and kneading your breasts as he shoves his tongue deeper, groaning into your mouth. You mold into each other. He leaves no room to breathe, suffocating you, his tongue sliding over yours. You’d happily die in his arms. 

Both his thumbs simultaneously swipe over your peaked nipples and you break away. The sudden flow of oxygen makes your world spin. He’s still hungry for you. Dipping into your neck and sucking the sensitive skin. Your head falls back, his one hand slips to your back, holding you. 

“Let me taste you,” he mutters. 

Joel falls to his knees once more. A sign of worship. He slips his fingers under the elastic of your underwear, pulling down the fabric. You hiss when the cool air chills your soaked folds. He hums in approval, his eyes glued to you as your underwear joins the pile of clothes. Mesmerized, he pushes to fingers between the lips, stroking your clit and feels your growing wetness. 

“Shit, sweetheart. What a pretty cunt. This all for me?” 

“Yes,” you swallow audibly and he smiles, his eyes meeting yours. “All of it is for you, Joel.” 

Numerous nights you have thought of him; his fingers, his tongue, his cock. But none of it—none of it could’ve prepared you for the actual thing. 

Your knees buckle at his first taste of you. He squeezes your thighs, smoothing his palms over your tight flesh. You can’t help it though, you’re shaking like a leaf. Joel doesn’t seem to care. In fact, it looks like he enjoys how quickly you submit to him. He groans into your cunt, tongue delving deeper between your folds as his nose nudges repeatedly against your clit. Every stroke of the warm muscle a pRickling sense of pleasure that sears your skin. 

You whimper, “J-Joel—I…It’s t’much. I can barely stand.” 

His eyes flicker upward to meet yours. Mouth still buried in your pussy, wiggling his tongue as you coat his chin with slick. He observes you for a moment. Takes in your heavy gaze, your parted lips, your sweat-soaked skin. 

Joel briefly removes himself from you, a string of saliva following his lips. You swallow. 

“Fine,” he rasps, his drawl heavier than usual. “Lay on the floor.” 

“W-What?” 

Immediately after you’re tripping backwards, his hands coming around you to cushion your fall. You can't help the giggle that escapes your throat.

“Joel, there’s a bed right there.” 

“Later,” he murmurs and dips into your heat again. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet and I’m out of patience.” 

There’s something wildy erotic about being on the floor, spread out for him. Like a tired warrior finally collecting his spoils. He pushes your legs over his shoulders, saliva-filled mouth hovering an inch away from your pussy. He breaths heavily, watching you pulse and drip. Joel spreads you with two fingers, pointed tongue swirling around your clit before he dips lower, stroking and massaging you with his mouth. Your head falls back, pleasure raking over your skin. Joel is still fully clothed. You love being exposed to him like this. So needy, and bare, and open. He takes it, happily—takes every part of you and cherishes it. It almost makes you want to cry. He’s so willing. And he’s making you feel incredibly good with his mouth. He’s lost in you, and you’re lost in him. 

“Does it feel good?” he groans, not bothering to look at you. Despite him not being able to see, you let out a whimper and nod frantically. He nips at the skin right under your pubic bone. “Tell me it feels good, honey.” 

“It does,” you choke out with a strangled moan. “God, it feels so good. I think—” 

I love you— 

You cut off before the words can spill. You can’t. Not now. Not when you just got him. You blame the heavy fog that settles over your brain. You feel for him, this much you both know— but your feelings can’t be that strong yet. It’s just the hopeless romantic in you that wants to take control. 

You’re not sure if Joel fills in the blanks of where your sentence was leading to. Your thighs bracket his face, soft flesh closed over his burning red ears. The only indication that gives you a hint that he heard you is from the way he groans and tilts your hips up, pushing his tongue into the tight ring.  

A loud gasp rips from your throat. You nearly scream his name, covering your mouth at the very last second. You’re positive he noticed that. Heat coils under the soft flesh of your stomach. He wiggles his way deeper, pushing, pushing and pushing. His mouth moves languidly between the slit. A gentle caress from his lips. You grip his head, back forming the perfect arch as you start to grind down, chasing your lingering orgasm. 

But then you lose him, and you nearly sob. 

“No,” he says, his voice scratchy and deep. “Let me make you come. I want to explore you, sweet girl. Want to see what makes you tick.” 

“B-But—” 

“Do you trust me?” 

You dare and look down. His eyes are rounder, charcoal pupils eating at the color of his eyes, dilated with lust. Swallowing thickly, you nod. You catch his mischievous smirk as he dips back down between your legs. 

Before you feel his mouth again, without warning he purses his lips and spits—loudly. It lands on your clit, the gentle force of it making you jump and hiss between clenched teeth. He starts rubbing your clit, wickedly, and when he’s satisfied with the extra shine of your pussy, he spits again. Seeing him makes your eyes roll back, a string of spit connecting him with you. Your chest heaving, you feel another gush of arousal rolling down your sensitive skin. He’s unbelievable. You’ve never expected him to be so raw and visceral. 

“My pretty neighbor all spread out for me,” he groans, rubbing two fingers over your aching clit. The sudden pressure makes you jolt. “God, honey, I could just spend the rest of my days between your legs. Tasting you, watchin’ you go stupid for me.” 

You garble out something inaudible. Joel grins and lowers his mouth, swiping his tongue over you before looking up again. “What was that?” he teases. “I couldn’t quite catch what you said?” 

You swallow and lick your lips, your mouth drier than sandpaper. “Mouth.” you say, the rest of the words dying on your tongue. 

“Mouth?” he grins. “Mouth where?” your breath catches in your throat when instead of feeling him on your throbbing pussy, you feel him against the inside of your thigh. “Here?” he asks. “Or…here?” then he presses his mouth above your mound, taking in a deep breath. “Oooor—” 

“Fuck, Joel stop,” you snap, tugging at his hair. “My pussy. I want your mouth on my pussy—Please…” 

Time slows. His gaze moves to you languidly, flitting across your face, taking in the state you’re in. He reaches out, swiping a tear that had unknowingly escaped the confinements of your lashes. 

“Okay,” he whispers, the trace of cruel mocking gone. “You look so pretty right now. You know that right?” 

He says it so earnestly that, despite not truly believing it, you nod. This seems to comfort him because his swollen lips close over your clit, sucking hard. A moan rips from the back of your throat. Your nails biting into his scalp. He sucks again, tongue lapping at the sensitive nub rapidly. His name falls from your lips. Your legs trembling as it frames his face, the burn from his beard a pleasant one. He moves down and pushes his tongue inside you, fucking you with it. Two fingers deftly circle your clit—It’s too much. He’s giving you everything, all at once. Spit drips down to your chin, your mouth dropping wide with no noise. 

Heat rolls in your stomach, spreads all across your body. Your skin prickles and your walls start to flutter, squeezing his tongue. 

Your orgasm rips away from you. It’s violent, lingering over the line of being downright painful. Your eyes snap wide, panic flares in you when you realize all those voices you held back started to bubble from your lungs and move up your throat. Your vocal cords shaking with a need to shout. Your nostrils flare, your lungs expand, his name is on the tip of your tongue, about to burst. All the while your orgasm still rolls over you, leaving you dizzy and aching between your legs. But before your fear of your brother hearing you comes into reality, Joel clamps a hand over your mouth, his heavy palm muffling the voices. 

The strokes of his tongue become softer, slower—sweeter. Like cool velvet on your burning skin. You exhale through your nose, the remnants of your orgasm fading. Your breathing evens out and his hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking the skin gently. He kisses the swell of your stomach and you whine at the loss of his sinful tongue. 

“Wow,” he croaks, making his way up your body. His lips glistens with slick, his mustache damp. A lazy smile blossoms on your lips. “You taste amazing. Best thing I’ve tasted in my life.” 

“I guess dinner wasn’t good then.” 

He chuckles, wet lips brushing over yours. “That ain’t what I meant, sweetheart. Your chicken was great.” 

“I’m glad.” 

You slightly shift to get more comfortable, and when you do, Joel let’s out a strangled moan. With a look of mischief, your smile shifts into a grin. He’s embarrassed, his eyes dropping to your chest instead of holding your gaze. A beautiful shade of red spreads out from his chest and darkens his neck. Still smiling, you lift yourself and press your mouth into the crook of his neck, sucking the sweat-soaked skin tenderly. 

“Joel?” you ask and he hums, eyes fluttering closed. “Do you want to fuck me now?” 

He grunts, “God, yes.” 

“Do you want to move to the bed?” 

Joel mulls over your question for a moment. His chin shifts to one side then the other, then, with a shy smile, he meets your gaze. 

“I—” he clears his throat. “I kinda like it…being on the floor. If that’s okay? I promise after that we’ll get on the bed.” 

Your smile never faltering, you nod. You’re happy you’re not the only one enjoying the  instinctiveness of being on the floor. His hands skim down your body, one finding purchase between the curve of your back and the floor. He gently cups your hip, pressing his fingers into the flesh. “Are you uncomfortable?” 

“Not at all.” 

He’s been waiting for that answer because as soon as you give it to him, his hand is between your bodies, unzipping himself with one hand and pulling his cock out. You salivate when you feel the heavy weight of him over your stomach. A bead of precum sticks to your skin, he rolls his hips, smearing wetness over your lower abdomen. You sigh blissfully, head falling and your legs parting to accommodate the width of his hips. 

Sitting back on his knees, he slowly touches his cock, watching your pliant body overcoursed by tremors. With a deep sigh, your eyes drop to his length. It shouldn’t surprise you that he has a pretty dick. Your mouth waters. He’s thick, and the thought of him stretching you makes you clench and drool all over the carpet underneath. He’s definitely been blessed and you keen at the sight of him poking through his jeans. His palm swipes over the head, coating himself in a sheer amount of precum. Soft, dark curls crown the base. You imagine yourself taking him between your lips, feeling him throb deep within your throat, constructing your breathing. 

With a soft moan, your fingers trace the slit of your sex, you’re so wet. 

“You’re temptin’ me to just come like this,” he coos, stealing the air from your lungs. 

You change the subject, eager to see more of his sunkissed skin, “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?” 

“Later,” he dismisses again, aligning himself with your entrance. You feel the tip of his cock and shudder.

“Oh, you like this hmm?” you purr, watching his brows pinch together with confusion. “You like having me all naked and vulnerable—completely at your mercy, while you’re still fully clothed, only your dick out—ah,” you pant heavily as he starts to fuck you with just the tip, working you open. A smile tugs at his lips. “Don’t worry, I love it too—god, I love it so much. I love opening up myself to you, Joel. I wish I could rip my chest open and show you all of it.” 

He doesn’t answer with his words but with his body instead. He burrows himself into your space, his mouth finding yours in a sloppy kiss. Tongues and lips moving haphazardly, a confession of sorts. He sinks into you, inch by inch. His weight presses down on you, and you feel a familiar tingle spreading from your toes to your spine. He breathes praise into your skin. Telling you how good you feel, how well you’re taking him. You accept the whispered words with an eagerness that surprises even you. Your arch into him, body bending in a way so that his cock slides further in. 

You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer as he fills you up completely. It’s overwhelming. Your walls flutter to accommodate to his width. Hot breath ghosting down your cheek, he decorates your face with delicate, fleeting kisses.

“Can I move, sweetheart? You feel so fuckin’ good.” he accentuates every word with the slow roll of his hips. “I’ve thought about you like this. So many times.” 

“You have?” 

Joel takes that as his cue to start moving, his hips grinding against yours in a slow, steady rhythm. The warmth between your legs spreads throughout your body, and you can feel yourself getting lost.

“I have. But none of it could compare to the actual thing.” 

His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and valleys of your skin as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him, and he takes the invitation eagerly. His thrusts become harder, faster. You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. This time you’re the one to slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting him and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans into the kiss, hips stammering forward. His chest heaves. 

Joel breaks the kiss to bury his face in your neck, breathing heavily as he pounds into you. You tighten your grip around him, urging him on. A moment later he’s pushing your legs up, hamstrings stretching and thinning. It aches. Into your skin, he’s whispering that he’s close, and it’s followed up by frantic apologies that dampen your neck. Your nails bite into the muscles of his back. You breathe heavily through your nose, biting back moans. He’s drilling into you, a sensation akin to being split in half warming your body. With every snap of his hips, you pulse around him, clenching and squeezing him tight as he fucks your next orgasm out of you. It’s too much, too sudden, and you’re crying. Silent tear pools down from your lashes. 

Joel hears the way your breath catches in your throat and moves away only to press his lisp into your eyes. He’s still sputtering out apologies, telling you that it’s okay, that it feels so good and that he has you. Warmth blossoms in your chest and you melt into the floor, your body only for him to use. 

With a high pitched sound dropping from his lips, Joel pulls out. His movements sloppy and eager, he rubs his hard length over your mound, the head catching against the swell of your stomach. You shudder when he groans, it’s raw and animalistic. He coats your trembling body with his seed, warm and wet, dripping down and staining the rug. You let out a stuttering breath and Joel leans in to kiss you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, lips brushing your hairline. “I wanted to last longer.” 

You smile, nuzzling up to his neck. “That’s okay,” you answer. “I take it as a compliment. Nothing more sexy than someone being so into you that they lose a bit of themselves, right?” Joel nods, knowing well what you meant. You press your lips against the bald patch of his beard. He smiles. “Besides, you can make it up to me. If you really want to.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he groans, dipping down for another kiss. “You can't even begin to imagine the things I'm about to do to you.”

A soft orange light caused by a street lamp nearby trickles from between the curtains. The light forms a sharp streak from between the windows to the bed. Your clothes glow golden on the floor, alongside with Joel’s. It’s late. The sky a shiny black as the rest of the neighborhood sleeps soundly. It’s been long since August’s bedroom door echoed closed into the night. Joel had his hand pressed tightly against your mouth. Your nostrils flare with each breath. Your stomach sinks into the matress, his hips slowly rocking into you, soft, wet sounds making your skin prickle with pleasure. His body a comfortable weight above you, screaming comfort. 

“Such a perfect cunt for me to fill,” Joel breathes into your ear. You shudder, a muffled moan bouncing against his palm. He clicks his tongue. “So noisy. I’m startin’ to believe you want to get caught with all the trouble you’re makin’ me go through to keep you quiet.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, your hips jerking to meet his slow thrusts. A sharp exhale leaves your nose. You’re burning all over, sweat clinging to you like a second skin. He grinds himself deeper, pinching your nose with his thumb and forefinger, you jolt only for Joel to shush you. 

“I think I just hit the nail on the head,” he mutters. Your chest expands, your lungs starting to burn and head growing dizzy. “Fuck—Sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. You want the world to hear don’t you, how much you love takin’ me? So perfect, so so perfect. I love fuckin’ you nice and slow.” 

You pulse around him, soaking him as slick trickles down your thighs and wets the bed. Your eyes roll back and your body juts uncontrollably. The lack of air adds pressure to your temples, but it feels so good. You want him to control everything like this. You want him to be in charge as you roll about life, only to come back to him. 

He removes his fingers, oxygen filling you once more. His palm is still heavy over your lips. Joel drags his nose up the frame of your face, gently nipping the skin above your cheekbone. 

“Jesuus,” he groans. “Did you come, darlin’? Just from that?” he sounds almost delirious, joyful. His strokes become faster, harder. You squirm underneath. Joel’s hand moves up from your mouth to your hairline, pushing sweat-soaked strands away from your forehead. His lips touch your cheek. “Such a needy thing.” 

You close your eyes and breathe heavily through parted lips, a half smile curving at the corner of your lips. You were needy. You don’t ever want to let him go. You want him to hold you like this until the end of the earth. 

You want this night to last forever.

It’s the early hours of the morning. You stir awake with hands gripping tightly at your waist. You blink away the dampness of your eyes. The street lamps are turned off, the sky now a muted, grayish blue. Joel’s hands skim down your body, still reaking of sex and sweat. Your ass is bare, and he caresses the warm flesh. His cock is heavy and hard, pressing between himself and the small of your back. You sigh, rolling your hips. He lets out a choked out sound, his lips now touching the back of your neck. It feels like a dream; laying naked with him here. It’s a beautiful thing. Exquisite. 

“You can’t sleep?” you ask silently, afraid to disturb the approaching day. 

“Too many thoughts,” he grumbles accompanied by a soft movement from his hips. You let out a sigh. 

“What thoughts?” 

He wets his bottom lip, “Borin’ stuff. But the main focus is always how I want to bury myself into this here sweet pussy of yours.” 

“You have quite the mouth on you, Mr. Miller,” with a smile, you shift and turn to him. His hand falling to your waist. You don’t want to think of what these “boring stuff” were. But you do have a sneaking suspicion it was to do with You, Tommy…Sarah. He’s thinking of all those who might get hurt by this, or affected. In all honesty, you don’t think Sarah would mind, but then again, you don’t really know much about her relationship with her mother. Being the nice neighbor is one thing, being in a relationship with her father is another. 

“Hey, where’d you go?” 

Blinking, your gaze meets Joel’s. He smiles and his thumb comes up to swipe the skin under your eyes. Where he touches burns. You mimic his expression and smile back, then you shake your head. 

“Nowhere,” you answer. “I’m right here. And what you want can be arranged, you know?” 

He hums, eyes dropping to your chest and pebbled nipples. “Can it, now.” 

Joel cups between your legs, middle fingers sneaking between your soaked folds. He tenderly circles your clit. “You sure you aren’t too sore?” he asks. 

“Hmmm, I don’t think I can handle you fucking me into oblivion again, but I can most certainly warm your cock. Help you sleep.” 

“What an angel.” 

You bark a humorless laugh. “Yup, that’s me. Miss angel, right here.” 

“You’re thinkin’ about him aren’t you?” he asks, pushing a finger in. You suck in a breath, your body starting to shake. Joel massages your walls, working you open as his gaze searches for something in your eyes. “You’re not alone in this. I hope you know that. He’s my brother, if anythin’ I should be the one takin’ the weight of this. Not the other way around.” 

“That’s not true. We’re both responsible about what might happen,” you sigh, heat licking the base of your spine. His lips brush your forehead as he pulls out his fingers and them with the head of his cock instead. You shuffle closer. “I think I’m just scared. This is all so new. Losing you is the last thing I want.”

“You ain’t gonna lose me,” he quickly says. “And we don’t have to tell anyone right now,” he adds with a whisper. He fills you, and it’s the most glorious feeling in the world. You throw your arm over his shoulder, pulling his chest flushed against yours. A faint pain blossoms between your legs, you moan at the feeling. “It can be just this. We’re in no rush.” 

You have so much more you want to say. But you don’t. Instead you revel in the feeling of him inside, pulsing, and throbbing. He so close that you can hear his heart beat. He’s right, there’s no need to rush this. Maybe a weak later you would return to just being the woman that lives next door, who’s to say? There’s no need to stir anything in your already chaotic lives. 

Joel nuzzles your neck, kissing the hard interior. He rests his forehead there, taking deep breaths of your scent. You want to move closer —if possible— but you’re afraid that when you do, you’ll won’t be able to hold yourself. And you’re enjoying the feeling of him inside too much to want this to end. 

“Better?” you croak out, playing with the damp ends of his hair. He nods. 

“It’s way better,” he murmurs, voice deep with sleep. “See you in the mornin’ neigbour.” 

“See you in the morning.” 

a/n: wooooo we got a new moodboard! Isn't that exciting??? I also have another one I made for a specific arc that'll last a couple of chapters but other than that, this one will probably be staying until the end so I hope you like it!

Also I'm stupidly happy to finally be writing smut for these two dfvfdvbf no one warned me that writing a slowburn would be essentially edging yourself lmaodfvdf many more horny chapter are to come! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and if you have any questions or things you want to see happen, let me know! Sending kisses and hugs to the lot of you 🧡

[rrickgrrimes8]

Your Bear Part II

summary: you are found (part I)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x niece!reader

warnings: angst, reunion, violence, infected, happy ending :))

not sure if i like this as much as the first part but i hope yall do. i just want to thank you all for the response to my past few fics (especially your bear). its been unreal. i stopped writing for a while and these were my first ones back so this was an insane response to it! thank you so much for your love and appreciation it really does mean a lot!

also! i tagged basically everybody who left a comment asking for part 2 - sorry if thats annoying idk ive never done a taglist before. thanks for the comments tho :) 

masterlist

request guidelines (new)

requests are open

word count: 2.3k

22 Years Ago...

The world around you screamed for help. People ran around, skin on fire, missing massive chunks.

You wailed as they passed, hands tightened around your ears. You just wanted to find help. You wanted to save Sarah. This wasn’t what you expected.

“D-ad,” You cried, hiccupping, “D-addy!” You missed his touch. You missed his voice and his face. His laugh. You just wanted your daddy.

But which way had you come from?

You stood, idle, in an alley way you didn’t recognize, a man lay a few feet beside you. Blood seeped from his neck, running to kiss the tips of your shoes.

He twitched.

Your breath caught in your throat, the hair on your neck stood high. “D-daddy,” You whimpered, quieter than before, “Please.”

He looked at you now. His face grotesque, the shape of jagged teeth marked his greyish skin. White, stringy tendrils extended out of his mouth as he crawled to you – his legs being left behind as he did.

You screamed when his nails scratched against your shoe. In the panic, your bear fell from your grasp, landing in the bloodbath.

You tried backing up from the monster, but his hand stopped you. His claws captured your ankle.

You didn’t realise you were falling until your back hit the wet ground. You let out a shriek as he trailed up your body. “P-please,” You sobbed, “D-ad! D-addy!”

The creature didn’t even flinch. He opened his jaws further, searching for your small neck, ready to mark you just as he had been.

But a shot sounded off and his weight settled on your petite body.

A strong force tugged him off you, the same force pulling you into their arms. You wailed, fighting against the stranger’s grip.

“It’s okay, sweetgirl, you’re okay,” She told you, rushing you away from the scene, “You’re going to be okay; I promise.”

x

You didn’t know what to make of Jackson. It was nice, you supposed. Weird though. It felt like what you imagined before felt like. Not that you remembered much. You remembered how loud cars were, how the TV remote worked, how to strum a guitar.

You remembered your sisters voice, her hair, how smart she sounded even if you didn’t understand a word.

You wished you remembered your dad. He was a blur to you. Like you had missed a chapter of a book and now a new character had no face. You remembered his laugh though. It was sweet, slow. Like a lullaby. You recalled being held to his chest and feeling the vibrations.

You wished you remembered your dad. 

Sarah had settled in quickly, at least that’s what you thought. She was happy to be around people other than her mom (you tried not to internalise it all that much).

In the week since you arrived Sarah had grown attached to the strangers that took you under their wing. You still weren’t so sure. But when Sarah made grabby hands to the older man and all she got was a dejected smile in response a part of you hurt. You didn’t understand why.

They’d kept their distance or rather he had. Ellie came round every day. She loved Sarah. She loved you, even if, like Joel, you were a little rough around the edges.

But for a reason unbeknownst to you Joel couldn’t be in a room with you for longer than five minutes. You didn’t let it bother you too much. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to make trouble and get the pair of you kicked out or worse separated. 

Ellie had come to you earlier that day, smile wide, cheeks rosy. She had a glint in her eyes, a plan. One you really didn’t want to know about nor be a part of.

Excitedly, she told you about the couple who lived across from her and Joel - his brother. Tommy and Maria and the somewhat new addition of Lily, their little girl. Ellie had told them about you - although missing out some of the major minor details. They agreed to have you over she had said. And despite the age difference between Lily and Sarah the older girl was excited to meet her.

So, there you stood, Sarah shielded from the cold into your chest. You raised your hand awkwardly, knocking a little harder than you expected.

A woman opened the door. She was beautiful, smiley, friendly. You couldn’t tell if that was a façade or not. That made the nerves in your stomach stiffen. “C’mon in, sweetheart,” Maria ushered you inside after she confirmed it was you.

You forced a smile for her, “Nice place.”

Maria nodded, looking around the room proudly, “Thank you.” She urged you to take a seat, letting you know her husband, Tommy, was just dressing Lily.

“So, you’re younger than I thought you would be,” She confessed, “Not to be rude or anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, sitting opposite her, Sarah making a home on your lap, “I’m 27.”

“Wow,” She smiled, “And what about her?”

You stroked the top of Sarah’s head, where her hair had slightly begun to grow, “Couple weeks now.”

Maria shifted ever so slightly in her seat, unspoken sympathy in her eyes, “And the father?” You stilled, escaping her gaze you looked towards the coffee table, taking inventory of the odd books they had. “I’m sorry,” She spoke quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” You cleared your throat sheepishly, “There isn’t... her dad did what he had to.” You still remembered his screams.

“I’m sorry,” Maria frowned, hands soothing over her jeans, wishing Tommy would appear to aid the situation.

“Don’t be,” You said earnestly, “He got us here, right? One way or another...” Maria wasn’t sure you really meant that. The lost look in your eyes told her what she needed to know. As did your shaking knee. You’d give anything to have him back. She bit her lip, somewhat guessing the rest.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” A males voice cut through the tension, “Wouldn’t stop squirming for the life of me.”

Maria chuckled opening her arms to grab Lily, introducing you as she did. He blanched hearing that name. He near screamed seeing that face - your face but so much different, so much more mature.

Tommy blinked a few times, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. He whispered your name carefully, as if you were a wild animal, prone for violence.

Maria gave him an odd look, moving Lily over to you and Sarah. “And this is our sweetheart, Lily,” She told you as Lily began fussing relentlessly in her arms, desperate to touch the baby.

“Baby,” She cooed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” You mused, croakily, inching closer to the pair, “This is Sarah, Lily.”

Tommy wanted to throw up. He felt it dancing up his throat, teasing his uncertainty. He felt stuck. He truthfully didn’t know what to do or what to say. Should he straight out ask you? You didn’t seem to recognise him though. Maybe it was a clone? A doppelgänger? Should he run over to Joel’s for safety away from this confusion? 

Joel.

Did Joel know? He had to know. He needed to know.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” Maria called to him. He choked a little, eyes trailing over to the plaque that watched over their new life. The plaque he knew had no place for your name. He knew it. You were here.

Maria followed his gaze, a weird feeling in her chest as she saw her husband so unlike himself. She read Joel’s daughter’s name. Sarah. Was he freaked out because they shared the same name?

She gulped - it wasn’t just the baby whose name was shared but yours too it seemed. You couldn’t be, right? No- You died. Joel was so sure you died and despite all Tommy had told her, all the hope he had for you, she always found herself on Joel’s side. Funny that. Any other situation she would’ve made a point to oppose the eldest Miller.

But now... You were just five. You couldn’t have survived on your own. You wouldn’t have had a life in this world.

But again, hadn’t you said you were 27?

“Go,” She told him, firmly, “Make sure.” Tommy nodded, failing to hide his tears as you watched in confusion and darted out of the room with a sense of urgency that unsettled your stomach.

“Is everything okay?”

Maria’s attention snapped back to you, “Fine... everything’s fine.”

A disconcerting feeling swam under your skin and a sudden resolve to flee hit you. “I- We should probably go,” You mumbled, bringing Sarah to your chest once more.

“Wait, please,” She attempted, “Just wait.”

You shook your head, apologising softly before rushing out of the house. You caught eyes with two men across the road - Joel and Tommy. They stood on his porch, seemingly arguing with each other.

You spotted Ellie watching through the window, a guilty look on her face - what had she done?

The brothers stared at you as you left the home. Their eyes didn’t leave you for a second. Tommy called your name, desperately but when he moved to catch up with you, Joel pulled him back.

He clenched his jaw as you rushed back to your home, out of sight. “She was my niece, Joel,” He scowled, “My fuckin’ family too.”

Joel shook his head, shaking off the shame Tommy was trying to force on him.

“You don’t get to keep this kind of thing from me,” He yelled, “You- You are unbelievable, Joel.”

“Unbelievable?” He mocked, “Is it so unbelievable that I didn’t want to advertise to the whole goddamn town that she was my daughter when, hell, I don’t even know if she really is!”

“Bullshit,” Tommy spat, “You’re not stupid. You knew. Of course, you fucking knew. You knew like how I knew. One look. That’s all it woulda took you. No… you knew. You were just too scared - like always. And that, your selfishness, takes us all down with you.”

“Fuck you,” He grunted, storming back inside.

“Christ,” Tommy mumbled, turning back to his own home. 

You had a baby.

You were here, alive.

x

You steered clear from the group for a little while afterwards. The whole situation made you heart clench. It felt like a game that you didn’t know the rules of, but they did. All of them did and they were careful not to reveal anything. But you wanted to know - you needed to.

You knew it involved Joel or at least you felt like it had to. The way he looked at you when you first met. The way he spoke. The way he shook. It had to be him. He had to be the answer.

You gave up on your attempts to avoid them when you came to that realisation.

The same realisation that brought you here, at his front door in the middle of the night. You shyly knocked a few times - no response. You repeated the action with a little more force, a little too much. The door creaked open on the contact, but no one came to greet you.

You sucked in a harsh breath as you debated entering. The door was open right? Fair game? Silently you forced yourself to step inside.

Their home was dark - one lamp lighting a whole room. You frowned looking over to it. Someone had to be here, right? Where else would they be so late?

And then you saw him. Joel. The contradictory man. He was asleep. His body was sprawled all over the couch, an empty bottle of God knows what lay beside him as did what looked like... a bear?

Shakily, you took a step forward, his name dying in your throat as you saw the bear in a better light.

It was... yours.

Why would Joel have your bear? The bear that when you were a child was essentially an extension of you. The bear that chased away all the bad dreams. The bear that your dad had gotten you - your dad.

You gulped - the bear you hadn’t seen since the night you lost everything. Since the night you almost lost your life.

Joel shifted in his sleep, pulling the bear close to his chest, careful of its head as if it was a baby. Your eyes burned. A gasp escaped your lips. You could read the chapter now. You can see that character’s face - your fathers face.

Different but the same.

“D-dad,” You whispered before you could stop yourself and backed away.

Your back met the door, slamming it shut. The man jolted awake, alarmed eyes frantically searching the room before landing on you. They grew small, weaker, like he wasn’t all the way there.

Joel watched you closely, taking note of your falling tears, he spoke your name. You choked on a sob, hand clasping over your mouth. “Baby,” He shot up before he had a moment to think and approached you.

You didn’t flinch away, like he expected. You didn’t stop crying either. You studied him now. The wrinkles. The scars. The grey hairs. The same look in his eyes.

“How long have you known?”

He flinched at that. Your voice so familiar, so broken. “Since we met,” He didn’t have to try too hard to understand what you were getting at. He felt shameful, though. This shouldn’t have been the way, right? This felt too casual, too unknown.

You wanted to ask more, yell at him. Beg him to tell you why it wasn’t the first thing that he told you. But you didn’t. Instead you put one foot in front of the other, until you were mere inches from him. “Dad,” You shuddered.

He hadn’t realised how much he missed being called that, how much he missed being your dad.

“Babygirl,” He took your face in his hands, “My baby grown up.” He watched you closely, tears welling up, “I’m so sorry, babygirl. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, slamming yourself into his chest, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Oh, baby,” Joel wrapped his arms around you, hand cradling the back of your head.

“With me, babygirl,” He smiled for moment before letting it fall, “Don’t go away again, babygirl, never go away again.”

You smiled into his chest, whimpering softly, “I won’t, dad, I promise.” 

x

@meli-blacky @zaweashtonslover @3zae-zae3 @bbciwp @cloudroomblog @white-wolf-buckaroo​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @myboyfriendisbigfoot​ @mell-bell​ @hummusxx​ @sleepdeprived-barelyalive​ @dilfsaremyfavourite​ @specialagentmonkey​ @slutforstark @lizlil​ @unsaiduglywords​ @ellaprime7​ @aphrcdites​ @zynbsblog​ @imonmykneessir​ @mandowhatnow​ @tomorrowseverything @livelovemusic0996 @icarusthefoolish​ @b-bloop @leemirna​ @hexaecana​ @littleshadow17​ @sgt-morgan​ @adorreeabbie @abbiesxox​ @leviackrmnss​ @eternallyvenus​ @hai-kbai​ @daydreamerblues​ @abbyrxx12-blog @montenegroisr​ @chxosunbound​ @shqwqrma​ @littlemissporter @wonwoosthetic @riri53 @softsakusas​ @prettysbliss​ @katiemars @kik51199 @stupidthoughtsinwriting​ @ellele19 @newavenger @19891213​ @dgraysonss​

[yeollie-plz]

Cave

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x GN! Reader (ft. Platonic! Tommy Miller)

Synopsis: Tommy is trying to help you to get together with Joel but Joel thinks you and Tommy are secretly dating.

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: swearing, Y/N insert, anger, jealousy, sadness, mentions of punching/aggression, kissing, bar settings

Gif credits to owners!

Tommy had noticed pretty quickly that you had a bit of a crush on Joel. You worked in the diner that Joel, Sarah, and Tommy frequented and had gotten to know them a bit. Sarah invited you to her birthday last year and the rest was history.

From day one you had found Joel attractive. He was so ruggedly handsome, a great father, and not to mention good with his hands. Oh, the things he could do with his hands...

You tried not to think about that too much, Joel was your friend and your customer! You needed to be professional! But Tommy was not going to have any of that bullshit. Tommy was convinced he could get you two together.

There was no one Tommy knew better than Joel. He knew when Joel was angry. He knew when Joel was sad. And he sure as hell knew when Joel liked someone.

Although, Tommy didn't know you as well as his brother, he could tell you felt the same. I mean it was kind of obvious when you would stutter and stumble whenever you saw him and stare at him endlessly.

He tried to convince Joel to ask you out but Joel kept his guard up. He denied that he liked you and said he needed to focus on Sarah and not dating. Tommy just rolled his eyes. He tried again for a few weeks after that but Joel wouldn't budge.

So Tommy waved his white flag in surrender (it was actually a pair of his tighty-whities he took off drunk one night) and gave up.

That didn't last long because a month later he was confronting you about your oh so obvious crush.

You tried to deny it, laughing him off. But Tommy saw right through it. All it took was him staring at you in disbelief and you caved, telling him everything.

"Okay fine, yes, I like your brother. Way more than I should." You almost yelled like it was a revelation even to yourself.

"I knew it! Wish that idiot would've listened to me and asked you out."

"He wants to ask me out?" Your head snapped up to read his eyes.

"Yes, but he's too in his own head about it, stubborn bastard."

You nodded, unsure of how to respond.

"Alright I'm gonna help you two love birds get together."

"Really? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"He'll thank me eventually..." Tommy trailed off a bit, he seemed like he was debating meddling in his brother's love life or not. He shook his head, laughing at himself.

"He will thank me, operation make Joel cave is a go!"

Monday:

On Monday you came to the house to take Sarah to school. You had done this a few times but Tommy knew that if you showed even more interest in the most important person in Joel's life, gold star.

So you knocked on the Miller's door bright and early. There was a noise of something heavy falling and shuffling towards the door.

"Shit, Tommy I told you to just come in." He finally met your eyes. "Oh, Y/N what are you doing here so early?"

"Well, I have a meeting near Sarah's school and I figured maybe we could have a nice drive together. Maybe get her some breakfast on the way?"

He laughed, "She probably already started cooking but I'm sure she'd love a smoothie or somethin'. You're a sweetheart for thinkin' of her."

"Are you kidding? I love that kid! Plus gives me an excuse to come bother you."

Joel's heart warmed when you said you loved Sarah.

He laughed and finally let you through the doorway and into the house. You followed him into the kitchen where Sarah was trying to make herself some breakfast.

"Why do we never have pancake mix?" She was rustling through a cabinet.

"Don't know, but Y/N said she'd get you something if you wanted."

Sarah turned around at the mention of your name. Eyes widening in excitement when she saw you.

"Y/N!" Sarah ran to hug you. You caught her in your arms and held her tight.

When she finally released you, you spoke, "Thought I could take you to school today, kid?"

She nodded quickly saying something about getting her bag and ran up the stairs. Joel laughed from his seat at the table.

Her footsteps echoed through the house as she paraded down the stairs, right as the front door opened. Tommy loudly announced his presence. The two Miller’s found you and Joel in the kitchen.

"This one almost ran me over coming down the stairs. Y/N! Good morning!" He sent a wink your way, acting like he didn't know you were going to be here.

The wink didn't go unnoticed by Joel.

Sarah grabbed your hand, gaining your attention.

"Y/N, if we hurry we can get some pancakes at the diner before school."

You smiled at her, "Good idea! Let's go!" Waving at the boys as Sarah practically dragged you out the door.

Tuesday:

You were at work when the Miller's came in. You greeted them and sat them down, giving them menus even though they would probably order their usual. You were behind the counter when Tommy came up to you.

"So he can't stop talking about how you took Sarah to school. Between both of them you are just about all we talk about actually."

You hummed in response, concentrating on pouring Joel's coffee.

"I convinced him to come here tonight. The more he sees you, the more he wants you. That's the theory at least."

"I'm starting to think you are more invested in this than me."

"No way! I just want to see my brother happy!"

"Uh huh." You laughed at him, gaining a laugh back.

Joel stared at you two, since when did you become so close?

The rest of the night went smoothly, everyone enjoyed their meals. You had given them the check and they were about to leave when Tommy stopped you.

"So Y/N, I have four tickets to the movies this Saturday at four and thought you'd wanna join us."

"Y/N please come!" Sarah pleaded.

"Okay, okay I'll come, but only 'cause you want me to." You said while ruffling Sarah's hair.

Thursday:

Tommy called you after your shift on Thursday. Joel and him were going out. He told you where they would be, when, and said to dress pretty. So here you were standing outside a bar in a black slimming outfit that didn't leave much to the imagination, trying to work up your courage to go inside.

Tommy's scheming was starting the stress you out a bit. No matter how much you liked Joel, this was almost like lying to him and that didn't feel right.

Just as you were about to say fuck it and go home, Tommy walked out the door.

"Y/N! There you are! Joel's getting bored in there and wants to go home."

"Tommy, I just don't know about this."

"It can't be the outfit, you look great Y/N."

"Not the outfit, this whole plan. I feel like I'd be better off just waiting for him to be ready."

"Y/N, no. How long have you had to wait already?"

"Over a year..."

"See! What's a few days of a little teasing gonna hurt? Trust me."

"Okay." You whispered.

"Lets get you inside." Tommy opened the door for you and your eyes immediately fell on Joel.

Tommy patted your shoulder telling you he'd be at the bar. You nodded.

Joel’s stomach twisted at Tommy's touch.

After a deep breath, you made your way over to Joel.

"Hi." You muttered.

"Hi, you look amazing."

"Thanks." Still not having your full confidence.

Joel and you stayed silent for a bit, before Tommy made his way over. He handed you a drink.

Joel sighed, Tommy bought you a drink not him.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Joel, doesn't Y/N look really good tonight?"

Joel nodded. Tommy didn't seem happy with answer and pressed Joel further.

"Well, I think Y/N looks absolutely stunning."

"I'm sure you do." Joel muttered, getting up from his chair aggressively. The leg of it scraping aggressively against the floor, causing you to wince.

The fire that was originally in Joel's eyes cooled a bit when he noticed your reaction. But he was too clouded by the jealousy that he still walked away. Joel paid his tab and left.

"So that didn't work exactly as planned." Tommy said.

"Nope, this is exactly why I didn't want to go through with the plan anymore. I'm sorry Tommy, but I'd rather be pining after Joel than lose him completely." With that you left the bar.

Saturday:

Saturday rolled around but you were no longer feeling up to the movie. You hoped the Miller's had fun but you were prepared to stay home in your pjs and sulk.

Four came and went. You were fully wrapped up in your TV show (and in your blanket) when the doorbell rang. You begrudgingly made your way to the door, unlocking and opening it.

You were met with a very out of breath Joel. He held up a finger as a sign to give him a minute.

When he finally caught his breath he spoke, "I just punched my brother."

You were shocked, why was Joel punching Tommy?

"Wh-why? What happened?"

"I don't really know. He just mentioned you and I punched him."

You gave him a minute to collect his thoughts, motioning him inside. You guided him to the couch and grabbed him a glass of water.

He took a few sips and spoke again, "Are you and Tommy dating?"

Okay, you were shocked again.

"No. No, what made you think that?"

"It just seemed you two had gotten closer recently and you're so pretty and smart and likeable so I figured."

You laughed, hard and loud and for a long time at this.

"You're laughing..."

"I'm laughing because...because Tommy was trying to help me get with you."

"With me?"

"With you dummy! Hanging out with Sarah, trying to get me to the movies with you, making me wear that outfit to the bar."

"I liked that outfit..."

"Not the point! The point is, I like you! And I have for a while now."

"Me too..." He kept just letting his sentences trail off.

"So why didn't you do anything about it?"

"Didn't think I was ready. Didn't think Sarah was ready. But I've decided I'd rather try then see you with anyone else, especially my brother."

You laughed.

"So, you gonna finally kiss me, Miller?"

"You bet your ass I'm gonna."

He pulled you into a deep kiss, letting you go a few seconds later. He rested his forehead on yours.

"You should apologize to Tommy."

He sighed, "I should... maybe thank him too."

[heartpascal]

you’ll find the key

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part five of if the door wasn’t shut — after feeling hopeless, you decide it’s time to heal

▹ — a/n: guys, i apologise for the wait! usually it doesn’t take me so long to write but this was a bit of a struggle!! i hope it lives up to any expectations :( i love you guys sm <3 pls leave ur thoughts + feedback and if u would like to see anything else in this series !!!

▹ — warnings: bad mental health, arguments, like two much needed hugs, so many apologies (my brain is failing so please tell me if there’s anything i’m missing!!!)

▹ — general taglist: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours

masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

check out howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was still storming outside.

Snow was coming down in heavy bouts, swirling all over the place with the force of the wind, and it was almost a goddamn blizzard. The ground was covered in it, and if it weren’t for the people already out in the streets, using shovels to dig away the snow in front of doorways, you were sure everyone would’ve gotten snowed in.

Not that you were going anywhere, anyway.

You hadn’t left Jesse’s side since you had gotten back to Jackson, after Tommy had a talk with you. They told you he was going to be absolutely fine, that all he needed was rest and to keep the wound clean. You still worried about him.

Part of you, despite knowing that what happened wasn’t your fault, still felt guilty. Out of the two of you, you were the more experienced one, and you should’ve known better, right? Should’ve caught wind that something wasn’t quite right sooner? You should’ve done something, protected him better, maybe?

You didn’t know exactly what you could’ve done differently, and you tried not to think of the possibilities, because the last thing you needed was to drown in guilt when you already felt bad enough.

Tommy’s chat with you hadn’t helped, either, and you know it was only because he cares, but it still hurt. The way he had looked at you, so angry, and scolded you for going back out there, for going after Joel when you and Jesse had barely made it out yourselves. He had called you irresponsible, which you would’ve argued against, if you hadn’t felt so guilty over the events of the day, if you hadn’t been worrying about Jesse.

You didn’t want to think about him being right, about how you could’ve gotten Jesse killed today, or yourself, god — Joel could’ve died, trying to save you. But was that really your fault? You wondered if everyone blamed you for Jesse getting hurt, as much as you blamed yourself.

“Are you really brooding, right now?” Jesse croaked, startling you from where you stood at the window beside his bed, staring out at the swirling snow. You turned to him, seeing his raised eyebrows, and felt almost thankful about the annoyance that arose when he looked smug, like he was right. “Unbelievable!”

“I’m not brooding, you asshole.” You murmured, unconvincingly. Jesse grinned, shaking his head at your denial.

“Oh, you so are.”

“I should’ve let them finish the job.” You responded flatly, breaking into a smile when Jesse laughed. The quiet lingered for a moment, both of your smiles slowly falling as the weight of everything that happened registered between you. “I’m sorry.”

Jesse’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you, his fingers picking at the edge of the blanket settled over him. “For what? Saving my life?”

“No, Jesse, I should’ve never put us in that situation. Especially after Pete left. I know better.” You replied, stepping towards the guy who had quickly become your best friend. You shook your head, eyes flickering around the room, until they settled on him. “Tommy took me off patrols, anyway, so.”

“What?” Jesse questioned, mouth hanging open. “Why?”

You stared at him, blinking in your confusion, and you tilted his head back to check his eyes were focused, that he wasn’t concussed, or something.

“Do you not remember what happened?”

“I remember just fine, thank you.” He responded, eyebrows creased as your hand left his forehead. Both of you wore incredibly confused expressions, neither knowing what the miscommunication between you could be. “Why would Tommy take you off patrols?”

“Jesse, you could’ve died.” You said, watching his face for the reaction, as if the information was new to him.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t your fault! You’re the one who saved me, who got me out. I don’t understand.” Jesse said, voice raising as he got slightly heated. He lowered his voice when he sat up, and pulled at his stitches, hissing in pain.

“No, I got us into it, and I was lucky to get us out.” You told him, as if it was a confession, and you frowned. You didn’t want to think about what could have happened to Joel, didn’t want to say that for once, the world had been on your side, letting you get him out, too. You didn’t voice it, but you don’t know what you would’ve done with yourself if he had died, trying to save you.

Jesse shifted, voicing your name, but you stopped him, smiling tightly in his direction. “It’s fine, Jesse. It’s for the better. Besides, means I’ve got more time to do my pottering.” You teased, though the words didn’t quite reach the way your teasing usually sounded. “Anyway, Dina showed up.”

“What? Why? Did she actually?” Jesse asked, his eyebrows raised as he looked to you with suspicion, like you were about to be making fun of him.

“‘Course she did. Whole town knows what happened, and she was worried about you.” You said with a grin that didn’t meet your eyes.

“The whole town?” He questioned, shutting his eyes and dropping his head back with a groan when you nodded your confirmation. “My family are so going to kill me, aren’t they?”

With a laugh, you reached forward to mess up his hair, “Oh, Jesse, you sweet thing. We’ve already devised a plan on how we’re going to do it.”

He slapped your hand away, glaring, but a smile pulled at his lips. He knew it wasn’t true, knew you were just entertaining his dramatics. What he didn’t know, was that his family had already been in, had already scolded you for getting their golden boy into trouble.

You moved back to the window, seeing a man across the road had given up on shovelling the heavy snow away from his door. Something heavy had settled on your chest, and you took a deep breath to try and get some oxygen past it. You didn’t blame Jesse’s family for what they had said to you — if you had been in their position, you probably would’ve been the same. They hadn’t quite approved of you, anyway, so you didn’t take it too personally. You were more than aware of everything you had done wrong.

Somebody cleared their throat in the doorway to the room, and you turned away from the window to see Joel stood there. He nodded his greeting to Jesse, a tight smile on his face.

“C’mon, kiddo, Tommy wants you to head back to the shop.” Joel said, repressing the sigh that wanted to leave his chest when you only nodded, stepping away from the window with a final glance outside.

“Well,” You said to Jesse, trying to muster up your best smile, “Duty calls, I guess. Feel better soon, okay?”

He called your name when you walked away, passing Joel as he stood beside the door, but you ignored it, feeling that weight grow heavier. Joel followed after you, a frown on his face.

You knew the route out already, and figured Joel was just the messenger, but he followed along, a few steps behind you as he limped on his injured leg. The wind was harsh when you opened the door, and you shivered when snow was immediately blown in your face. You lingered in the doorway, both hesitant to go out into the awful conditions, and feeling bad for leaving Joel hurrying on his bad leg.

Joel didn’t say it, but you knew he was here because Tommy didn’t want to see you. You couldn’t say you were surprised — not after just how angry Tommy had gotten. His face had been red, the steam pouring from his ears practically melting the snow around him, and it was the first time he had ever yelled at you.

“You doing okay?” Joel asked, hesitantly, as he paused in the doorway beside you, watching you as you wrapped your coat tighter around you. He knew that nothing was fixed, not even close, but there was something.

“I’m fine, Joel.” You replied, and he could hear the exhaustion in your voice, the way it pulled on your words. It was easier to hear than it was to see, but he just caught the slump to your shoulders, the way you held your eyes shut for a moment, before going to brave the snow.

He walked beside you as you headed towards the ceramics shop, your pace a touch slower than usual. You shoved your hands in your pockets, eyebrows creasing when you realised you must’ve taken your gloves off at some point. You tried not to sigh when you realised that they were probably lost, and just decided to chalk it up to another disappointment in an incredibly frustrating day.

When you arrived at the ceramics shop, it was a mission to get through all the snow that had started blocking the door. You would probably be snowed in, by nightfall. Joel helped you get rid of as much of it as possible, his gloved hands doing most of the work after your bare ones become too numb to continue.

You opened the door, feeling heavier than you had in months, and left the door open as you moved to the back of the shop, turning on the heater that sat there. You let your hands linger in front of it, just gritting your teeth at the sting that followed from warming them too quickly.

Joel lingered in the doorway, frowning at you, and furrowed his eyebrows as he called your name, watching your turn to face him. “I’m sorry.”

You gaped at him, stunned.

“You should have gotten a choice. It wasn’t my place to decide that for you, or to leave without havin’ a conversation.” He continued on, his words jumbling the slightest bit. “I still think you stayin’ was the best thing for you, the safest thing, but for whatever it might be worth, I am sorry.”

When your silence lingered, Joel nodded tersely, and stepped away, smiling tightly as he left the shop, shutting the door behind him. You blinked at the closed door, unsure what to do, unsure if you should have said something. But even if you should’ve, what would you have said?

It wasn’t okay, not in the slightest, and everything around you seemed to be crumbling. Tommy wasn’t speaking to you and Maria would be more than upset with you, too. Jesse was in the infirmary, and that was on you. And even as you looked around the ceramics shop, all you saw was cracked paint on the walls, and dust that settled no matter how many times you wiped it away.

Hell, even the misshapen plates and bowls on the shelves just made your chest hurt. You didn’t feel any sort of pride for this place, anymore, and it was painful. It stung at the deepest parts of you, and you just settled down on the dirty floor in front of the heater, holding your head in your hands as you blinked back tears.

Why did you think you could do this?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Initially, you didn’t intend on avoiding Jesse.

In fact, you had plans to go and visit him the day after everything went to shit. It was just that when you opened the shop door, the outside looked far too unfriendly, and you knew his family would be in his infirmary room.

Perhaps it was a cowardly move, staying at the shop, locking the door and pretending the outside world of Jackson didn’t exist. Really, you were going to go and see him the next day. Swore to yourself that you would. But when the next day came, you didn’t even attempt to unlock the door to leave, figuring that it would be best to just leave him and his family to it. Dina was probably with him, too, so your absence wouldn’t be felt all too much.

Each day you said you would go, started with you justifying your staying in the shop. It went the same way, waking up and thinking you should go and see him, but the moment you got into the front of the shop, you thought better of it.

You blamed it on everything but what it actually was. Whether that be the snow, the heater in the shop that broke, the concept of him having quality time with his family… you used it all to reassure yourself that he didn’t need you by his side.

Besides, you knew he wouldn’t be in the infirmary for long. And by the fifth day, there was a knock against the shop door, barely heard over the howling wind outside. You remained in the back room, telling yourself it was probably nothing important, and after the heater broke, you couldn’t afford to open the door, anyway.

Even with the door closed, your breath misted in front of your face, and you had to rub your hands together more than once to generate heat, especially considering you seemed to have misplaced your gloves.

On day six, you kept all the lights off, and didn’t bother to poke your head around the doorframe to see who was knocking at the front door. After a few moments of loud knocking, his voice called out your name, and you were sure he was likely squinting through the shop window, trying to catch sight of you.

You barely even noticed the way you held your breath so it wouldn’t cloud the air, and alert him to your presence. You pretended the harsh exhale after he left was just a sigh of exhaustion. In some ways, you guessed it was.

By day seven, he knew what you were doing.

“Open the door,” Jesse yelled, still knocking wildly against the wood, and you were sure he was peeking in the window, too. “I’ve been to Tommy’s, the dinner hall, the greenhouses, the stables, hell — I even went to Joel’s. I know you’re here, stop hiding.”

You stayed in the back room.

After a while — much longer than you expected, especially given the still-awful weather — Jesse gave up, leaving the door at last. You frowned at the empty can of food in front of you, chest aching from the cold and everything that had happened over the past few days.

You hadn’t left the shop in the past seven days, surviving off of the short supply of long-life food in the cupboards. But that was your last can of it. As much as you knew you would have to leave, have to go get some more food in order to survive, you still didn’t want to. You didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want them to see the shame that was so visible in the curve of your frown, the dip of your brows.

It made it easier to hide, knowing Jesse was the only person looking for you. There had been no sign of Tommy or Maria, which pained you, but didn’t surprise you. Part of you wondered if they’d ever speak to you again, but you didn’t want to linger on the question, too afraid of the answer.

It was day eight that you had no other choice — the temperatures were dropping even further, and with no heater it was becoming too cold for you to take. The need for heat and food led you to the dinner hall, which was surprisingly empty, and you settled at your usual table with a plate of cooked food, feeling the chill that had begun to settle in your bones fade.

Most people would be staying inside their homes, the cold too much to bear, so you were surprised when Ellie waltzed into the hall, eyes scanning the room as she made her way over to grab herself some food. You dipped your head when she began looking in your direction, and clutched at the fork in your hand, holding your breath.

“So you are alive.” Ellie drawled, settling down in the seat opposite you with her plate in front of her. “You know your friend has been coming ‘round for the past few days, won’t leave us alone.”

You shrugged, not knowing how to respond.

She sighed, poking at the food on her plate. “Thanks for going back for Joel, by the way.” She pretended not to see the way your head snapped up, eyebrows furrowed as you looked at her.

“I wouldn’t leave him to die out there,” You said, after a moment, the words hesitant as they left you. “Especially when he went to try and help me.”

Ellie nodded, shoving food into her mouth, and you quickly followed her action. The silence between the two of you stretched uncomfortably, and you hated how everything had changed. Why couldn’t they have just let you come with them? Why did they have to push you so far away?

“He’s a good guy,” Ellie said, a frown on her face. “He makes stupid decisions, but only because he cares about us.”

You looked at her, wondering when the two of you had grown up. You remember the jokes you had shared during your travels, the way she had been able to make you smile even when doing so seemed impossible. She had made life in the apocalypse almost bearable, and now here you were, sat at the same table, but miles apart.

“Maybe, but you were right about one thing. I don’t know what happened, so if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” You told her, instead of acknowledging her words about Joel. You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to think about any of it.

It would be painful, you were sure, to hear about everything they had experienced. You could guess that a lot of it wouldn’t be pleasant, and it would likely hurt to hear about all the things you had missed out on, all the things that maybe you could’ve protected them from. But you were willing. It wasn’t forgiveness, it wasn’t a ticket back to being in each other’s lives, but it was progress.

And progress was all that you could offer, so it would have to do.

“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.” Ellie said, a tight smile on her face as she looked at you, her eyebrows slightly raised in surprise at your words.

You nodded, and the two of you ate in silence.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

After stocking up on some more long-lasting cans of food, you were prepared to hunker down in the shop for a while longer. You hadn’t been able to trade for another blanket like you had hoped, but you weren’t all too surprised. With the stormy weather, everybody wanted more warming supplies.

You had survived worse conditions, though, in worse places. One harsh winter in Jackson wouldn’t kill you, even if your heater was broken, and you still hadn’t found your gloves.

The shop door was locked once again, and you had taped the bottom of it to try and stop the cold draft from seeping into the room. You considered bunkering down in the back room, taping the door shut and staying in there with all the blankets and layers you had, but you thought better of it. You wanted to be able to hear the front door with ease, still on edge after the ambush with Jesse, especially considering the raiding attacks that had slowly begun to ease off.

Despite whatever had gone wrong, however angry Tommy may be, you knew he’d rely on you if the time came. You were sure of it. Everything the two of you had built couldn’t have been toppled by this one event, right?

Your gun was still laid by the shop door, and your ammo never left the jacket you always wore. Just in case. If anything were to go wrong, you wanted to be ready.

The call of your name shook you from your racing thoughts, the contemplation of everything that could happen pausing as your head snapped up. Maria’s voice was loud, and she hadn’t knocked. You didn’t have a surname — didn’t know whoever came before you long enough for them to tell you, didn’t know everyone who came after long enough for them to share their own. So she settled on your first name, yelling it loudly.

“Open the door!” Maria demanded once again, kicking the bottom of it with her foot. “Come on, open it. You’re not fooling anybody, and it’s freezing out here, little Troy can’t stay out here too long.”

With a sigh, you stood. She knew how to get to you — bringing baby Miller was a harsh plan, especially because it gave you no choice but to let her in. Not that it was much warmer in the shop than it was outside, but she didn’t know that.

You unlocked the door, pulling it open just to fit yourself into the crack of it. Facing Maria was terrifying, because you didn’t know what to expect. Even as she held on to baby Troy Miller, who was bundled up in more layers than you could count, she was totally unpredictable. She could be in a motherly mood, or that merciless Jackson council member.

“Hi,” You said, nervously. “What’re you doing here?”

She raised her eyebrows, stepping forward until you’d opened the door for her to step inside of the shop. Maria’s stern expression immediately fell, and you could feel nerves building in your stomach.

“Is your heating out?” She asked, turning on you suddenly, harshly. When you nodded meekly, she handed Troy over to you, not faltering even when you opened your mouth to voice your confusion.

He babbled at you, a toothy grin on his face, and you held on to him tighter. It hit you then, how much you actually cared about these people. Your brain short-circuited when you thought about something bad happening to this family, and it made you feel sick. Suddenly, you were regretting the meal you had eaten with Ellie.

“Well, I think Jeremy should be able to fix it up.” Maria sighed, standing from where she had crouched down to inspect your broken heater. “But he’s way busy with other heater issues. Come on, you’ll stay with us.”

“Maria.” You urged, repeating her name another time when she didn’t answer you, too busy thinking about options and solutions, as always. “I’m fine. Go home.”

She sighed heavily, turning to you with that stern look she’d been wearing since the moment you were left behind in Jackson. “I know you and Tommy are going through a rough time, but he loves you, and if he knew you’d been living here with no heat?” Maria shook her head with scoffed laughter, not reaching for Troy even as you offered to hand him back, instead moving to pack some of your clothes into a bag. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“It’s not my home, Maria,” You said softly, perhaps the softest she had ever heard you.

It was disquieting, at the least, for you to behave in such a way. Throughout the whole time Maria had known you, you had been sharp edges and bitten words, even when you had grown to care for them, that hadn’t changed all that much. It was a constant, your stubborn attitude and harsh nature, always slamming doors shut too hard, always charring food when you were unsupervised, because you’d turn the heat up too high. You were impatient, practical, realistic. You weren’t soft.

Maria’s face curved into a frown, and she stopped her presumptive actions in packing up some of your things. She looked at you, looked at the lines that were beginning to dig into your expression, looked at the way your shoulders slumped as you held on to her son.

“Maybe not,” Maria offered, and looked around at the shop that was not as pristine as the last time she had seen it, before looking back to you. “It could be, though.”

You shook your head, sighing but not finding any relief from the action, only feeling the same tightness to your chest. “I’m not a Miller.” You said, and it was true, because the space behind your name remained as empty as ever, that absence something you had felt your whole life.

“You’re as much a Miller as I am, as he is.” Maria reasoned, gesturing towards her son in your arms as she looked at you. She didn’t want to say too much, didn’t want to overwhelm you, but you had practically been adopted by the two Miller brothers. Two men who were so far from perfect, who made so many mistakes that they almost lost you, who cared too much. Hell, even if you weren’t consciously aware of it, you had adopted their mannerisms and tendencies.

It showed in the way you held Troy, the same stance that Tommy used. It showed in the frown on your lips, that looked far too much like Joel’s to be a coincidence. The furrow between your brows reflected Joel and Tommy’s own, a crevice built from worrying and frustration and anger. You reminded Maria too much of how Tommy had been when they first found him — eyes glassy, lost, and without purpose.

She had seen the change in you since you had been left in Jackson, so many ups and downs, but you had been doing better. And now, here you were, looking more lost than you ever had.

“That’s not true, Maria.” You replied, tense. It wasn’t true — Troy was a Miller by blood, and Maria was a Miller by marriage. Both choices that Tommy had made. It wasn’t the same for you, it couldn’t be. Tommy had never chosen you — Joel had dropped you in his lap before running away, and didn’t that make you the furthest thing from a Miller?

“It is true.” Maria refuted, stepping forward to hold a hand firmly against your face. “You’re a Miller, no doubt about it. Now come on, we’d better get going. Got a lot to talk about.”

She was finishing shoving your things inside of the backpack at her feet in a few moments, and was swinging it over her shoulder before you could protest, making her way out of the door. Holding her son, what choice did you have but to follow?

The two of you were silent on your journey to Rancher Street, and you felt the nerves bubbling up from your stomach, leaving an unpleasant tingling in the back of your throat. It was tense, though that could have been all from you. You were still holding Troy, having him half buried in your jacket to make sure he wouldn’t be cold, despite the fact your jacket wasn’t the warmest.

When you arrived to her house, Tommy wasn’t there. She didn’t say anything, so you didn’t mention it, much preferring to ignore the issues that would likely arrive whenever he returned. Instead, you settled Troy down, removing some of his layers at the rush of warm air that came the moment you stepped through the door.

Your hands were tingling, in a strange state between feeling and numb after the sudden temperature change. You settled them under your legs when you sat down on the couch, Troy at your side as Maria clambered about the kitchen, having already dropped your bag down beside the sofa.

When she came back, it was with a steaming mug that you recognised — one of your very own design. It was a dark green, close to black, and had your poor recreation of a bear on it. You remembered thinking it was going to come out brown, remembered the shock when it was green.

She handed it over, and you used the hand with slightly more feeling to take it from her, holding it close to your chin to allow the steam to flow over your features, warming your nose. “So,” Maria said, drawing your attention from where you’d been keeping an eye on Troy, keeping the hot mug away from him. “First, you and Tommy fight, and then you ignore your best friend?”

You stared at her, teeth clenched in shock, and recalled the way Ellie had mentioned the boy. Clearly, he was pestering everybody who knew you. Maria’s eyebrows raised, looking expectantly at you.

“‘M not ignoring anybody.” You murmured, voice catching in your throat as you spoke, and you took a sip of boiling hot tea to get rid of the lump that had formed. The burn soothed you, in a strange way, warming your insides the slightest bit as you breathed steam.

“Mhm, is that why he’s been ‘round here, bugging us ever since he got out of the damn infirmary?” Maria asked, expression tightening slightly as you winced, and knew she had got you.

You shook your head, moving your other hand from underneath your leg to cradle the mug in both palms, breathing a relieved breath at the warmth finally reaching your fingers. “Doesn’t know how to stop, does he?” You said, moving your eyes to the swirling drink in the mug, not looking up even as Maria hummed. “I’ll tell him to leave you be.”

“Ah, but that would require talking to him, which you clearly haven’t been doing.” She told you, a slight teasing lilt to her voice, to make it seem less serious than it truly was.

Maria remembered the night you and Tommy had arrived home, with you shoving at his shoulder whilst he laughed loudly, a bright teasing smile on his expression. It was probably the lightest she had ever seen the two of you, with Tommy not feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders for just a moment, and you smiling like you hadn’t faced unspeakable things. She remembered the way you had scrambled to correct Tommy’s statements, whacking a hand against his forearm when he interrupted you.

She remembered Troy waking up from where she hadn’t long settled him down, and remembered the way you had immediately gone to calm him down after hissing a “Look what you’ve done now!” at Tommy, who had only laughed.

Maria remembered the way her head had settled against her husband’s shoulder, exhausted to her very bones, motherhood feeling much harder than she remembered. Especially with her aged bones, keeping up with a baby was more difficult than she remembered. She didn’t want to think about what it would be like when he could actually run around. Maria had just been grateful to have you there, to be able to rest with Tommy, trusting you to look after her son.

You challenged her motherly instincts, sure, but Troy was on another level — it was a lot more to deal with when your child wasn’t basically self-sufficient.

“I’m going to,” You said, though there was doubt in your voice. “I am.” You repeated, as if that would solidify your statement, as if it would make it any more truthful.

“Listen,” Maria sighed, saying your name, and waiting for you to look up from your mug before she continued. “I know what happened on that patrol. I know. And it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, so why are you ignoring Jesse?”

You swallowed, scratching a fingernail over a small crumb of clay that hadn’t gotten smoothed down before being fired. “I just… I care about him, and he could’ve died, Maria. Tommy was right, I—I was irresponsible, and I could’ve gotten us both killed.”

Maria shook her head immediately, picking Troy up when he began to fuss, and she stopped you. “No, Tommy was speaking from a place of anger. Of fear. You did everything right.” She affirmed, staring intensely at you, as if daring you to argue against her. “Except, maybe, going after Joel, but I know why you did that. I get it. If I had been in your position, if it were my…— I would’ve done the same thing.”

“I just didn’t want him to die, because of me.” You said, voice quiet again, and Maria’s heart ached for you, something squeezing so tightly in her chest that it physically hurt. “I don’t want Tommy to hate me forever, either.” You added after a few quiet moments, eyes following a bubble around the edge of the mug.

“He doesn’t hate you, kid, not at all. He was scared, he didn’t want to lose you.” Maria reasoned, but you still didn’t feel better, not after just how angry he had gotten. Not after he had practically shoved you out of his sight, the moment he was done yelling, unable to even look at you. Not after he had sent Joel as a messenger, refusing to speak to you himself.

“Maybe,” You offered, because it was the best you could do. You couldn’t agree with her, couldn’t disagree, either. The only person who would actually be able to decide those things was Tommy — and he was nowhere to be found. “I’ll talk to Jesse.” You decided to say, in the end, hands gripping tighter on the mug. Just saying it aloud made it seem all the more real, and you regretted it a moment afterwards, thoughts stuck on what Jesse would say, what his family would say.

“Good.” Maria said, nodding at you, “He’s a good kid, he deserves to know his friend is still here.” She stood to her feet, heading to the kitchen with Troy in her arms, waiting for her to feed him.

Twenty minutes later, when Maria had gone upstairs to put Troy down for a nap, the front door banged open, a rush of cold air being let in.

“Maria!” Tommy yelled out, his voice panicked, and you could hear him shuffling through his bag in the still-open doorway. With furrowed brows, you placed the cold mug down on the floor beside the sofa, standing up and making your way to peek into the hallway. “Maria, you here?” He shouted again, more desperate this time, and when you finally saw him, you saw that he had snow still clinging to him, and he had brought clumps of it in on his boots, slowly melting puddles on their floor.

“Tommy?” You questioned quietly, both not wanting to speak to him, but also getting increasingly concerned by his behaviour. His head snapped up to you, and he blinked in surprise, his shoulders slumping and hands pausing in their rummaging.

“Oh, thank god.” Tommy said, approaching you quickly and wrapping his arms around you tightly before you could get a word in. You blinked, shocked, and slowly wrapped your own arms around the man, who just held your head closer to him in return. “You scared the shit outta me.” He admitted, a slight tremor to his voice. He breathed out a heavy sigh, arms squeezing, and you wanted to look at him to express your confusion.

“Is everything okay?” Maria asked, a slight panic to her own voice, but she relaxed at the image before her. Tommy’s eyes opened as he rested his head on your own, and he looked to his wife as he nodded gently.

He moved away from you slightly, hands moving to hold your shoulders tightly, finally able to see your confused face. He sighed, his shoulders dropping like they had been holding the weight of the world. “I went to the shop, wanted to apologise. Couldn’t find you or your things, and it was freezing.” Tommy told you, his head dropping until his chin rested against his chest for a moment. “Thought you left.”

His arms pulled you back to his chest, and you didn’t resist him, though your heart was racing in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

Maria frowned, “I didn’t know you were going. The heater’s broken, so I told her to stay with us.”

Tommy nodded again, his breath held in his chest as he let his heart rate calm down. You let him hold on to you until he was ready to let go, just keeping your face hidden in his shoulder as your arms wrapped loosely around him, fingers numb from the cold once again.

When he finally released you, you took a small step back, cheeks warm with remaining shame from your last conversation with the man. The rest of you, however, was freezing, especially since you had removed your multitude of layers in the warm house. Tommy frowned as you shivered, cursing under his breath as he turned to shut his front door, his frown deepening when he saw the water covering the hallway in front of the door.

He waved Maria away when she gave him a stern look, and she nodded once she saw his expression, smiling tightly at you before heading back upstairs to settle Troy back down, after he had been fussing from his father’s shouting.

Tommy turned to where you stood, hands wrung together to try and generate some more warmth between your digits. He sighed again, a seemingly very common thing for him at the moment, and he stood up straighter to talk to you.

“I’m sorry,” He told you, his voice reflecting his words in its apologetic tone. “I should never have spoken to you the way I did. Wasn’t fair of me to blame you for things that weren’t your fault. Or for me to judge you for doin’ exactly what I would’ve. What I should’ve.”

You stared at him, at the way his hands clenched and unclenched into fists at his sides, a slightly nervous habit, you had noticed.

“Tommy, you were right,” You responded, continuing on even as he shook his head, “I messed up, and I could’ve gotten Jesse, or Joel, or even myself killed.”

“No.” He said firmly, reaching out and holding onto your shoulders once again, his grip tight as if you might slip away. “I was wrong. You hear me? I should have been proud, proud that you were so brave, that you saved your friend and your— and Joel. I should have been proud that you made your way back, that you did it without some old shithead tellin’ you what to do.” He rambled on, shutting his eyes and looking almost regretful.

You ducked your head, feeling far too emotional, a lump formed in your throat at his words. Just somebody who you looked up to, who you trusted, telling you that you hadn’t done anything wrong… it was almost too much.

As many mixed feelings as you may have had over the whole situation, the most prevalent one was guilt. It had been surrounding you, weighing so heavily on you, hell, you didn’t even realise how much it had been pulling you down until Tommy came in, lifting it all off of your shoulders.

“You did good, kid.” He told you, squeezing your shoulders, and you hated the way your lip started trembling.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

Tommy laughed, the sound watery and almost broken off, “You can cry as much as you want.” He pulled you in, feeling your arms squeeze around his middle as he held on to you so tightly, he was almost sure he’d never let go again.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Your closed fist was raised up to the door, a hair’s width away from making contact with it, but you had frozen. And it wasn’t because of the cold.

There was something that had settled heavily in your stomach, making your whole body feel heavy and slow. You felt, distantly, like you might throw up with the way it was sitting, but tried not to think on it too much. You were aware of the way your chest was rising and falling, almost too aware, and you tried to put it out of your mind as you attempted to steel yourself.

“You gonna knock, or are you just gonna keep standing there, looking stupid?” A voice asked from behind you, making you spin on your heels, fist pulled away from the door. You held a hand against your chest, breathing a heavy sigh as you saw the culprit of the scare.

“You’re an asshole.” You murmured, eyes studying your beaten up boots that were covered in melting snow. You looked up to him, and felt some relief when you saw Jesse crack a slight smile at your reaction. It faded far too quickly for your liking.

“So?” He prompted, eyebrows raising at you.

You frowned, repressing the urge to grumble at him, but you knew that he should’ve been the one angry at you. Hell, he probably was. “I just came to say… I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“Are you kidding?” You asked, annoyed. But when his expression didn’t budge, you sighed through your nose. “Okay. I’m sorry for ignoring you after the infirmary, and I’m sorry you got put into the infirmary at all.” You said, looking back down the where the melting snow was seeping into the hole at the side of your boots. You should probably get new ones.

Jesse didn’t say anything for a moment, and you picked at your fingernails while you stared at the ground, your nerves sending your pulse into a fluttery mess.

Finally, you heard him snickering, and your head snapped up. “Well, I just can’t believe this. You, apologising?” You glared as his smile slowly grew, though you knew that the whole thing wasn’t quite solved, at least it was good to know that Jesse was still acting his usual asshole self with you. “Come on, you little asshole.” He said, gesturing for you to follow him. You did.

He glanced at you every so often, shaking his head at your stoic expression.

The two of you arrived at the dining hall soon enough, standing in the queues silently whilst waiting to collect food, until Jesse nudged you and led you over to the table you so often shared.

“You do realise I would never blame you for something that happened on patrol, right?” He asked, eyebrow raised as he awaited your response, shovelling food into his mouth as if he was starving. He reminded you an awful lot of Ellie, in that way. You wondered if they had met.

With a roll of your eyes, “Well, now, yeah. Do we have to talk about this? I said sorry, didn’t I?” You murmured the last part, shovelling your own food into your mouth, refraining from rolling your eyes again when Jesse snickered at you.

“How could I forget? You prefer to brood rather than talk about your feelings.” He responded.

“Okay, I don’t brood—”

“Yes, you do—”

“And do you enjoy talking about… feelings?” You said, ignoring his interruption. He stared at your raised eyebrows, the expectant look on your face.

“Sometimes, I do.”

“Maybe when it comes to—”

“Dina!” Jesse said in a high pitched tone, cutting you off and looking at you with widened eyes. You looked behind you, seeing the girl of the hour approaching your table, an amused look in her eye. She nudged you with a grin as she walked past, sitting on your left and smiling widely at Jesse’s surprised expression.

After settling down, she looked back up to meet Jesse’s eyes. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

You snorted out a laugh, not expecting to hear such an old expression coming from her — it sounded like something Joel might say. Jesse glared at you, unamused by the grin you and Dina shared.

“Yeah, Jesse.” You goaded, smiling at his indignant huff. “Not want to talk about feelings, anymore?” You asked. You leaned backwards as he swiped his arm out, trying to knock the cutlery from your hand as it was heading towards your mouth. Dina laughed at his failed attempt.

“So you two are talking again, then?” Dina said when her laughing faded, and you glared at the way Jesse grinned, unhappy with the fact he was telling her such things. You supposed that you couldn’t blame him — after all, you had spoken to Maria about it. It just so happened that Jesse was your only friend your actual age.

“Unfortunately.” You grumbled, eyes narrowed at the man.

“Unfortunately,” Jesse mocked, making a face at you. “Somebody finally came to their senses!” He said, after he was done poking at his food as he frowned at you.

“Somebody is having regrets about it.” You responded in turn, smiling sarcastically at him.

“Back to normal, then.” Dina concluded, smiling when the two of you nodded. She didn’t know you all too well, but from the time she had spent with you in Jesse’s infirmary room, she was a fan. You clearly cared about Jesse, way more than you would admit, and she could admire that.

You looked at Jesse, “Back to normal.” He echoed, smiling at you.

You pretended that the sigh you let out wasn’t one of relief.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You should really clean this place up, you know.” Jesse commented as you unlocked the door to the pottery shop, his eyes scanning around the room, the chill to the air making him shove his hands in his pockets. He looked at the dust covering the surfaces you usually cut clay on and raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I’ve been a bit busy.” You replied, moving to the newly fixed heater that Tommy had brought over when he walked you back to the shop that very morning.

“Oh, yeah, avoiding me.” Jesse said, grinning mischievously when you shot him an annoyed look over your shoulder, focusing on turning the heater on, placing your freezing hands in front of it when it finally started shooting out some warmth. You sighed at the sting, just glad to feel your hands once again.

You sat down on a dusty stool, turning to Jesse when he sat down beside you, relishing in the heater that was finally working. “Okay, so maybe I’m not the best with… feelings.”

“No kidding,” Jesse snorted, his smile fading when you stared at him, deadpan. “Sorry, go on.”

“But I can say that I do care about you. Sometimes. When you don’t piss me off.” You told him, drawing in a shaky breath that filled your lungs with cold air. “I just… relationships are complicated, you know? And painful, a lot of the time. I didn’t wanna go through that again, I guess, but you’re persistent.”

Jesse smiled as you spoke, somewhat amused by your words, but even you could see the softness to it. The absence of that teasing edge his grin usually held. It was reassuring.

“If this is about Joel—” Jesse attempted, shutting his mouth when you cut him off.

“—It’s not about him.” You interrupted, quickly, the back of your neck feeling hot despite the heater being quite far from you. “Or maybe it is, I don’t know.” You added on, after thinking about it for a second. You generally tried not to think of Joel, or the whole situation with him and Ellie, but could it really have effected you that much? It’s not like Joel was the first person you had lost.

He was the first to walk away without a fight, though.

A small part of you fought that fact, because he came back. Did that not mean anything?

“Can I speak yet?” Jesse asked, a slight teasing lilt to his voice. It brought you out of your thoughts, and you smiled despite the topic at hand. With a nod from you, Jesse went on, “Thanks. I’m just saying, maybe Joel isn’t all that bad. I’m not defending what he did, but the guy clearly cares about you.”

“So I should just— just forgive him? For leaving me?” You asked, looking at Jesse as if he had all the answers.

“I don’t know, that’s up to you,” He said. “Maybe you don’t need to forgive him. Maybe it’s time to just… move on with your life. Forget about what he did, and focus on what he can do. You miss him, don’t you?”

You frowned, looking away from the intensity of Jesse’s gaze. The two of you were friends, yes, and he was the closest friend you’d ever had, maybe besides Ellie. But being so open, it was strange. Likely the effect of the apocalyptic world you lived in, and perhaps it was another difference between that world and the little safe haven of Jackson, Wyoming.

“‘Course I do. He and Tess… they were everything I had.” You replied, your eyebrows creasing at the thought of the woman, at the memory of your life in Boston QZ. It made you realise that it had been a while since Maria had cut your hair, and Tess would’ve chastised you for not reminding her to cut it if you had let it gotten this long in Boston.

It all felt so far away.

When you thought of Tess, your heart ached. Though, it wasn’t quite the same as it had been on your journey with Joel and Ellie. You felt her absence, maybe more than ever, but it wasn’t all bitter. You felt… appreciative of her. She may be gone, but at least you got to have her for a time.

You really wished that she could’ve seen this place, though. You often wondered if she would’ve liked pottery.

Joel would probably know.

“Tess may be gone, but Joel isn’t. Not anymore.” Jesse reminded you, hesitant in his words. You realised that you had never really told him, or anyone, about Tess.

“Y’know, if Tess were here, she’d probably tell me to get over myself,” You laughed at the thought, a sad, watery laugh, but Jesse smiled with you despite not knowing the woman. “She’d kick Joel’s ass, though.”

“Is that even possible? Joel’s like… badass, man.”

“Nobody was more badass than Tess. She was awesome. Used to boss Joel around, all the time, she ran half of the smuggling underground at Boston.” You smiled when Jesse raised his eyebrows, surprised. “And she used to cut my hair. Always told me it was better to keep my hair short, even though she had long hair.”

“Bit hypocritical, isn’t it?” Jesse asked, humour in his words.

You shrugged, “Think she was just trying to keep me safe, in her own way. Tess didn’t want to keep me, to start with. Joel convinced her.”

The more you thought about it, the more you realised that it really was because of Joel that you were allowed to stay with the two of them. You remember hearing them argue on a few occasions, something about a great family that Tess knew nearby. But Joel had never let you go too far.

He’d told you about Tess’s family, though it wasn’t really his place to do so. He had done it in an attempt to comfort you one night when you were young, after you had gotten upset at Tess disregarding you yet again. Joel had explained that she didn’t like getting attached to anybody, especially kids, after she lost her own child. He had told you that it was what they had bonded over, at the start.

“Sounds like this Joel guy really wanted you around, huh?” Jesse said teasingly, only grinning when you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Shut up, you asshole, when the hell did you get all wise?” You asked, glaring at him as he feigned an innocent look. You cracked first, smiling at his expression, feeling a softness to the grin as he matched it with one of his own.

“Distance makes the heart grow wiser, I guess.”

“It’s fonder, Jesse. It makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Shut up, I’m the wise one here.”

You looked at Jesse then, as the two of you shared a laugh, and you wondered if this is how friendship felt before the apocalypse, or if that warm feeling in your chest was exclusive to post-apocalyptic relationships.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“Didn’t think you’d be coming back here.” Joel commented gruffly as he made his way to the kitchen with a nervous energy about him.

“Me neither,” You said idly, watching him fumble around the kitchen. You wondered if it was just a Miller thing, being terrible in the kitchen. It certainly seemed like something Joel and Tommy had in common, but you hadn’t really thought about it when Joel had asked if you wanted some tea, in a bit of a panic at your presence.

He didn’t say anything in response to that, seemingly mulling your words over. Joel didn’t really know what to make of your presence, certainly not expecting to see you at his front door when he opened it.

“Oh, wait,” You said suddenly, causing him to look over to you in the doorway from where he had been about to put tea in the two mugs in front of him. You pulled your backpack around on your shoulder, digging through it for a moment before pulling out a bag. Joel’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked between you and the bag, waiting for an explanation. “Look.” You said, handing it over to him.

He took the bag, opening it up and unable to help the grin that broke onto his face at the sight of coffee beans, the scent of them immediately soothing some of the man’s tension.

“Where’d you get these?” Joel asked you, his voice lighter than you had heard it since Boston. The sound of it made you grin, despite everything.

“Found ‘em on a patrol, a while ago. Been hiding them from Tommy, so don’t tell him.” You responded, realising that this was probably the lightest conversation you and Joel had held for a very long time. How long had it been?

“Wouldn’t dream of it. He’s a thief, always has been.” Joel said, smiling. “Right, the tea.” He said after a moment, placing the bag of coffee beans beside the mugs he’d set out.

You snickered as you noticed the mugs, grinning as Joel turned to you in question. “Seems like Tommy’s not the only thief in the family.” You said, gesturing toward the white and orange mug he’d placed down, recognising it from the batch you’d given Tommy and Maria.

Joel, at least, had the decency to look slightly embarrassed about stealing the orange coloured owl mug you had made and gifted to his brother. Either that, or embarrassed about getting caught. It had slipped his mind, really, more of a habit to grab it out of the cupboard, considering it was the one he used all the time.

He opened his mouth to try and craft some sort of defence, but felt any words he might’ve had die on his tongue as he turned to you. Seeing you smiling, well, it wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You often smiled at Tommy and Maria when he caught sight of you with the two of them, hell, you smiled a lot around that friend of yours, Jesse. Joel even remembers the times you would smile back in Boston, even though life in the QZ was much harder than life in Jackson.

But it had been a long time since Joel had seen you smile in his presence.

Each time you and Joel interacted after he had left you behind, your face had a way of falling, of crumpling in on itself before it hardened, staring at him with an expression of stone.

It had his heart aching in his chest, finally seeing you smile around him. He hadn’t realised quite how much he had missed it.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, after he stayed silent for a moment too long, the smile on your face fading into something of confusion. Joel shook himself out of his melancholy thoughts, clearing his throat and offering up his best smile in return.

“Nothin’,” Joel answered. “Nothin’ at all.”

You let his response linger in the air between the two of you for a few moments, and it seemed that the both of you were thinking of how life used to be. You were a long way from Boston.

“I could’ve made you your own, y’know.” You said, after a the silence stretched on, reaching out and picking up the mug he had stolen, looking at all the imperfections that had seemed invisible, all that time ago when you had made it. You’d like to believe you were much better in your craft, now.

“I like this one, just fine.” Joel responded, plucking it from your hands with a raised eyebrow. You snickered at his actions, moving to look around the kitchen, missing the soft grin stretched over the man’s face.

“God, you fixed that?” You asked suddenly, taking a wide step to look at the slight imperfection on the countertop, where you remember carving a deep gash in the material one night by shattering a particularly heavy plate upon the counter. You were almost sure it wasn’t fixable, that perhaps it could look better, but would always be extremely noticeable.

Joel nodded, back to his task of sorting out tea, but spoke when realising you were faced away from him. “Oh, yeah. Took me a couple tries, though.”

You hummed in response, going back to looking around the kitchen that you remembered so well. Most of the damage you had caused on the room had been fixed, which created a strange feeling in your chest, though you couldn’t tell quite what it was. Relief? Disappointment?

It wasn’t as hard to be in this house as you had expected it to be. You were awaiting that crushing feeling in your chest, that emptiness that left your ribs aching. Surprisingly, you felt… light, almost.

Joel didn’t know exactly what to expect.

On one hand, he wanted to feel hopeful, to belief that this would be the beginning of your relationship with him healing. But then on the other hand, he was reminded of just how much he had hurt you, of the tears that had spilled from your eyes when he had left you behind, the grit of your teeth when he had returned. He tried his best not to expect anything at all, to just remain… happy that you were here, in this moment.

Even if there were no other moments like this one.

He tried not to focus on how much that thought hurt.

“You and Ellie settled in, then?” You asked, trying to fill the silence in the room. There was also that part of you that wanted to know, that wanted to know everything.

Joel repressed the sigh that built in his chest. “Gettin’ there. She, uh, she’s had a tough time, but you know Ellie. She loves to be gettin’ into everybody’s business.” He refrained from looking in your direction when he asked you the same question. “You settled in alright here?” He wanted to add more on, but thought it best not to try his luck.

“I guess so.” You responded, thinking of how different your life was now, to how it was back in Boston, or even to how it was when you were on the road with Joel and Ellie. “It was… tough at first, but Tommy and Maria were good to me. And I got the shop, so.”

“And that boy?” Joel asked, trying to remain casual, though you heard the suspicion.

You smiled at his question, at the way he avoided looking at you. Back in Boston, when you had been much, much younger, Joel had tried to get the thought into your brain that boys were bad. He was protective of you, and distrustful towards the world. You couldn’t blame him.

“Jesse? He’s, uh, he’s my best friend.” You told the man, shaking your head at the way his shoulders relaxed the smallest bit. “He’s a good guy, you know. I care about him.”

As protective as Joel was, though he knew that he didnt really have any right to be, he couldn’t deny that it was nice that you had a friend your age. That you could count on someone, could trust someone, out of your immediate circle. He remembers that you had been lonely in the QZ, with only him and Tess for company, nobody your age that you could speak to or trust.

It had been a relief, almost, when you and Ellie had developed a friendship on the journey. Joel only hoped that the two of you could have that again.

“I’m happy for you, kiddo.” Joel responded, the nickname coming out almost like a reflex, like it was involuntary. It was what he had always called you, though, so you weren’t surprised.

“Jesse, uh— it was actually Jesse’s idea for me to come here.” You said, and Joel couldn’t deny the relief that spread through him when you didn’t immediately reject the nickname, or pull away at the sound of it.

Joel floundered for a moment, looking for something to say, eventually settling on uttering a quiet, “Sounds like a smart kid.”

You smiled, taking the mug off of Joel as he finally finished making the tea, avoiding your eyes. “I guess.” You replied, cradling the warm ceramic mug tightly in your hands. “Somehow, he seems to know what I need to hear, before even I know.” You said, humour coating your fond tone.

Joel smiled. “Sounds familiar. Tess was always like that, with me.”

It was one of the first times Joel had openly mentioned her name since she died. For some reason, it made your shoulders feel much lighter, like the burden of not being able to talk about her had been weighing you down.

“I miss her.” You confessed, looking for his reaction.

“I do, too, kiddo.” Joel admitted, his words softer than you had ever heard them. You thought about what it must’ve been like for him, to lose the companion he had held as close as he dared for close to two decades. You couldn’t imagine.

You hesitated, opening your mouth, before closing it again, only going ahead when Joel gave you a reassuring nod. “You knew her much better than I ever did.”

“I suppose.”

“Do you think you could… I don’t know, just— just tell me about her, one day?” You asked, the hope in your words making Joel’s heart ache.

“‘Course. I’ll tell you whatever you’d like to know.” Joel said, smiling gently at you, nodding his head towards the living room, a soft look on his face as he sat down beside you on the couch. “Ask away, kiddo.”

You were quiet for a moment, feeling lighter than you had possibly your whole life. “Do you think she’d like pottery?” You asked, sharing a knowing smile with Joel. He laughed at the concept, something so amusing about the idea of Tess Servopoulos, the renowned smuggling boss, sitting in your shop and making dinnerware.

“If it was with you, I reckon she’d have liked anything.” Joel responded, something truthful to his words.

You smiled, and asked more about her.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

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↳how they hype you up (dteam)(hc)

↳holding their face reactions (dteam)(hc)

↳nicknames they call you (dteam)(hc)

↳little things you do (dteam)(hc)

↳reacting to you being sick(crewboys)(hc)

tommy:

↳series!: "please don't go." one - two - three

↳wolf hybrid reader (sbi) - two

↳eyeliner

↳skilled protecter(hc)

↳you're weak, who can i help(hc)

ranboo:

↳series!: "goodbye."

one - two - three - four -

five - six - seven - eight

nine

↳revenge - two

↳midnight skies

↳you're weak, who can i help(hc)

tubbo:

↳series!: "goodbye."

one - two - three - four -

five - six - seven - eight

nine

↳gifts

↳you're weak, who can i help(hc)

wilbur:

↳wolf hybrid reader (sbi) - two(hc)

awesamdude:

↳just go

↳charged creeper

↳momma and dada

fundy:

↳protection and love(hc + text)

michael (the pig):

↳thunderstorms

↳watering and learning

quackity:

↳series!: "the peguin and the duck." one - two - three

↳reacting to you being sick(crewboys)(hc)

slimecicle:

↳why won't it stop

spiderman

peter parker:

↳save me (tom)

↳science homework help (andrew)

↳left in the dark

euphoria

elliot:

↳ensename

↳ser mia

rue:

↳i'm tired

celebrities

timothee chalamet:

↳like will smith

stranger things

steve harrington:

↳series!: "cursed." one - two ಇ

eddie munson:

↳peace

↳i only have eyes

↳wounds

the last of us

joe miller:

↳stab wounds and a somewhat grateful patient ಇ

scream 6

ethan landry:

↳what it's like dating ethan (hc + text) ಇ

heartstopper

tao xu:

↳slow train | two ಇ

↳intoxicated romance in parisಇ

[ameagrice]

Genesis

chapter three

summary: you begin the journey across the country with two adults who couldn’t hate you more.

Marlene handed you over to them without hesitation. Take her, she yelled, getting away before FEDRA showed up. Get her there, Joel!

Now, Joel is a man you decide to be in his late forties, with greying hair, and a pissed-off-don’t-talk-to-me look about him. He’d looked at you with nothing but distain the second Marlene hauled off.

Here’s how it went:

“She’s immune, Tess. No—listen! I know what you’re thinking, but I’ve seen it. I’ve watched her for a week. She’s immune.” Those words meant nothing to Tess, a woman near Joel’s age, with also greying, brown hair and a piss-me-off-and-I’ll-kill-you look about her. They’re a team, this Joel and Tess. They’re going to take her across the country and hand her over to them when they arrive, them, being Marlene’s team.

“Do you have a clue what’s out there?” Joel spat, waving his gun around. Slight exaggeration—he waved it. Marlene pressed her hand against her stomach, against the blood bulging out there, breathing deeply.

“Of course I do! But, do this for me, and you can have whatever supplies you want for however long you want. I promise. You’ll have no trouble from us. We’ll help you out—the Fireflies; if you need protection, we will—”

“Yeah, alright, Marlene,” Tess scoffed. She paced the rotting hall, floorboards creaking, all the while the sound of FEDRA got closer. She stopped short and shared a look with Joel. Neither of them had spoken to you, like you were invisible, an imaginary thing they could only talk about. “What are you thinking?”

Marlene huffed. Your head turned like a ping-pong ball, this way and that, between the three adults. “Y’all talk it out, but remember I’m bleeding here!”

The pair talked amongst themselves for a few seconds, in a corner of the hall, voices hushed. Finally, just as the flashing lights arrived through the grimy windows, Tess strolled over, picking up your knife from the floor—you had unsuccessfully tried to stab Joel. Feral, he had called you, you want us to take this feral kid?

“We get all the guns we want,” she declared. “Accommodation when we need it, and food, medication. We get this kid there unharmed, and we have a deal. Agreed?”

“Yes!” Marlene snapped, rolling off her leaning stance against the wall. “Can we go before we’re hanged?”

“What?!” You shrieked. Even now, you remember the way Tess had looked at you: like you were one of the decaying infected out behind the walls. “I’m not going with them! Marlene—!” These people were strangers, and clearly thugs—trading you for guns.

Her eyes pleaded with you, weak, and walking backward to the exit. “I’ll meet you on the other side, alright? Now go!” Cops began yelling outside. “Take her! Get her there, Joel!”

Tess snatched your elbow with a strong grip, fingers digging in hard. She pulled you along, through a gap in the wall you hadn’t seen. “Get down the ladder. Move.”

“Fuckin’ Marlene,” Joel grumbled above you, climbing down after you, marshmallowed between the two adults. “ ‘S exactly what we need. Where now?”

“Back to the apartment,” Tess demands. “We’ll figure it out there.” Tess is strong of tone and sure of herself, and it’s intimidating. Joel is harsh-toned and refuses to look at you, which might be worse. Either way, you’re feeling pretty intimidated by these adults.

Town is crawling with cops, even more than usual. They’re raiding the building and the ones around it forcing people out into the thunderstorm raging overhead, even the kids. The sky is dark, plummets of rain forcing down on everyone’s heads. Tess and Joel crouch by the staircase of which you’ve emerged by, looking left and right before Joel runs across, straight into an alley opposite. He holds against the wall and peers out, before gesturing for Tess to follow. She snatches your wrist and gets to her feet, looking around as you run. Her longer strides yank you along at an impossible speed, and if she wasn’t holding on tight, you would have tripped from the get-go.

They seem to know their way easily. Up the rusty steps of a fire escape stairwell, through that door at the top and round a block of apartments, down, down, down until you’re back on the ground floor. Then it’s across another street, through barbed-wire topped alleyways, until they’re slowing, ducking into an apartment block. The hallways are covered in wilting wallpaper, and dirty hardwood. Some people are home, voices floating through their apartment doors. Tess has long since let you go, so you opt for trailing after them up the stairs to the third floor, all the way to the end of the hallway, to a door on the right. Tess unlocks the beaten door with a set of jingling keys, pushing it open.

“Get in,” she orders, so you trudge between the adults into the apartment, where the door swings shut behind you. Instantly you’re on guard.

“Hey!” You try the handle, giving the door a strong pull, to no avail—someone’s holding it on the other side. You drop your hand and press your ear to the door, trying to listen to them. All you get is muffled words—voices low.

You take the time to look around. It’s small. The wallpaper is floral and faded—not something you’d have imagined people like Tess and Joel to have in their home. A slouchy sofa sits by the window, a side table beside it and a coffee table opposite. In the adjoining kitchen are the typical, worn cupboards in nearly every facility in the Zone, a table and chairs set neatly in the middle. Curtains, a painted butterfly in the window, and a couple of pictures standing on the window ledge: Tess and a little boy. Joel and another man. None of Tess and Joel together, which you think is relatively strange.

The door open jolts you back into the living room. It’s Joel, only Joel, rubbing his forehead like he has a headache.

You hesitate before you speak. “Where’s Tess?”

Joel ignores you, sitting down on the sofa and leaning his head back.

“When are we leaving?”

“I don’t know.” Hm. Progress.

“What are we doing now?”

“Waiting.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Figure it out.”

You huff, turning in a circle for something to do. Joel appears to fall asleep, and you wave a hand in front of his face daringly, testing a response. He doesn’t budge.

The shelf holding papers and books looks interesting. You take a slim one from the end, American Woman. At first it’s good enough—new books are always good at first. But it soon proves boring, and you dump it back where you found it. It’s still drizzling outside, and the sky is darkening with nightfall instead of thunderclouds, by the time Joel wakes and Tess returns.

“You got a coat in that pack?” She asks you, and you nod your head. “Good. It’s time to go.”

She and Joel spends a few minutes throwing things into their backpacks, things from the kitchen—rations, bottles of water, the pictures and things from the bedroom and bathroom. You can’t fit your whole life into bags, so when they’re not looking, you take some memorabilia from here, too, to remember your pit stop: the butterfly in the kitchen window, a book. Your own belongings—the small amount of things you own—are in there, too, stolen from your dormitory after Marlene’s group caught you. Your hairbrush, the water bottle from the night, your necessities. There are a couple of tees and leggings, too, and a book of your own, and finally your precious Walkman. The only things you own. Ironically, a Firefly also shoved in your grey hooded jacket, lettered in gold: FEDRA TRAINEE. Because that’s what you are. You don’t doubt they didn’t take it for what you’re training to become, though, and more for warmth. In a few weeks the temperatures will fall even further.

Tess is fumbling around in the bathroom while Joel sits waiting on the sofa, elbows on his knees, silent. He hasn’t looked at you still, and it’s grinding on your anxious nerves. You’re going beyond the walls of the Zone. This won’t be like exploring with Rudy, where your biggest threats are gangs and older men. No, out there, your biggest threat is also the source of all your confusion.

“We’re gonna be okay out there, right?” Your words cut through the silence like a knife. Joel opens his eyes, blinking at the wall next to your head. “I mean, you’ve done this before, haven’t you? So we’re gonna be okay.”

Finally, those empty eyes land on your own. He doesn’t speak for a second, just searching your face. Then he sighs through his nose slowly and nods his head. “Yeah.”

That one word is enough of a prompt to get you to your feet, abandoning the arm of the chair. Thunder cracks and rumbles in the distance; you turn your head to watch at the window.

“Alright,” Tess strolls in. “Time to go.”

You’ve shrugged on your FEDRA trainee jacket and pulled up the hood, laying on the thin black coat Marlene dug up from somewhere for you. There wasn’t much need for proper coats at the school: you never left the walls of the building unless on a guided walk by the guards, and even that was rare. The times you slipped out around the Zone were only because Rudy had the guts to go and drag you with him. In the winter, Rudy’s inquisitive nature was a curse.

Tess leads the way down the apartment block with Joel calling out questions to her, that have no real meaning to you: exit round the back or the slow way? should we drop by the South end first?

FEDRA presence is still very, very strong. They’re storming the streets, even in this awful rainstorm, their radioes blaring directions and muffled tones from the headquarters. Tess stops by the front door and turns her head this way and that before she sets off with a hand to the hood of her jacket. For a second, you watch as the rain bounces off of it like pelts, until Joel shoves you firmly in the back with a strong hand, almost winding you. You trail after Tess with a hammering heart, wishing somebody were here to save you. What would they do, really, if you approached a FEDRA officer and explained you were being smuggled across the country by two random strangers? But then, you would have to explain why you were being smuggled by two random strangers, and it wouldn’t end well.

“Keep your head down,” he mutters, jogging after you. “Follow Tess.”

It’s easier to do as he says, though everything in you is screaming to yell back. Tess is almost a blur of khaki as she zips through streets and people, until you reach a barren area full of wilting, soggy boxes. You don’t ask where you are, and don’t have much chance to, before Tess is crouching and yanking on a drain cover. She looks up to Joel, eyes falling to you, and back again.

“I’ll head down first,” she breathes, ditching the dirty cover. “Get a look at the other end. If I come back, we’re all clear, if I don’t…”

Joel nods his head, expression unclear. Is that the only look he has? He guides you to the wall and you’re pliant, while he stands at the end of the street keeping watch. You’re tempted to follow Tess anyway and avoid being stuck here with Joel any longer, but before you know it, she’s back, lifting herself out of the drain. Joel turns.

“Alright,” she nods. “Let’s go.”

It’s so dark, even with Tess’s flashlight. Joel digs around for one too, in his pack, and you travel between them in the cramped drain. It’s barely big enough to crouch for you, never mind Tess and Joel. But they manage. It smells of shit and drains and dirty water, but it’s surprisingly empty, besides the odd sprinkling of moss and weeds growing. You stop and listen every few yards, before Tess waves you onward. The irrational fear of the drain being filled with water starts to become overwhelming just as you approach the decline and the raising ceiling. It leads out to a small running river, where Joel rises to his feet and stretches his strong arms above his head. His back pops and echoes. You scrunch your nose.

Tess has moss in her tied-up hair by the time she and Joel walk off down the embankment, and you wait a second to see what happens. They don’t turn back around, talking only in hushed voices with a lot of hand movement. You blink, feeling slightly dejected. FEDRA won’t have you back, Marlene passed you off like a broken clock, and now the two people who promised to get you to wherever the Fireflies are, are just walking off without you. Maybe they think you’ll just run after them. After all, it’s dark and you’re without a flashlight in a place you’ve never been before.

And if they thought that, they’d be right.

You sprint after them, slowing by the stream, and begin to panic as their lights disappear, turning the corner. You’re blindly stepping up an incline, beginning to get nervous.

“Tess?” You try, voice echoing. You guess you’re under some sort of tunnel, or bridge. With no answer, your heart speeds up. “Tess?!”

A flashlight appears around the corner, a tall figure looking very pissed off. An annoyed Joel, waiting on you. Although Joel’s presence doesn’t exactly calm your nerves, it calms a section of them, and you scurry to him like a scared kid. Which is definitely not what you are.

“Move it,” he hisses, waving his flashlight on the path. Something twangs in your chest, and you walk with your head down past the man. When you catch up, Tess is kneeling, pulling weeds and brambles away from another tunnel. She grimaces, looking down at her hands. The tunnel looks eery and grim, and you really don’t want to go down there.

“Alright,” she sighs, turning her head to meet your slightly-anxious gaze. “It’s just through here. When we go through here, don’t make a sound. Got it? There’s a lot of FEDRA on the other side tonight. If they catch us, we’re all dead. Understand?”

You nod frantically, mutely. Better to be quiet now. She hums, and holds your gaze for a second before the pair of light eyes move away.

This tunnel is arguably better, but it’s still a tunnel. By the time you’re out, you’re breathless and breathing deep, and your back is aching. You get to your feet and brush off your knees. You’re finally outside of the Zone.

“No fuckin’ way!” You laugh. Tess shushes you, but doesn’t look angry. The three of you walk in silence, sneaking around the debris scattered here, until you turn the corner. There’s a bit of light coming from the wall by the Zone’s entrance and a car engine rumbles, but so far, there are no guards this far out.

Until Tess slams to a stop, holding her arm out to stop you, too. Joel steps back, tilting his head slightly. They share a look, some form of silent communication, and then Joel nods his head, stepping out quietly. You and Tess follow him.

“Hey—hey! Stop! Fucking stop where you are!”

You freeze on the spot, gaze falling to the guard who’s fumbling for his gun laying against the wall. Tess sighs heavily.

“Hey, come on, man, just forget we were here!”

“Forget it?” He laughs. By now he has his gun in one hand, and has brought out the scanner used to detect Cordyceps in the other. “Hands up. Get on your knees. I said get on your fucking knees!”

You shift on your feet, looking to Tess for guidance. She’s visibly angry and nervous. Her eyes meet yours, looking to Joel. “Just get on your knees. Just get down.”

The three of you kneel with your hands behind your head in a line, while the guard goes to Tess first. The scanner bleeds green light, and Tess scoffs, whipping her head around to glare at him. “Seriously, man?!”

“Yeah, seriously. We’re doing this by the book. Unauthorised exit out of a Quarantine Zone—they’ll hang you for that.”

“Look, you let us go, we’ll give you half off on the next run,” Joel bribes.

“Half off? All off. For the rest of the fucking year.”

It beeps green at Joel’s neck, and he approaches you.

“Look, you let us do this, and let’s just forget about it all.”

The scanner beeps, and you already know what the colour will be. Determined not to let Joel and Tess kill you, you turn abruptly and knock the scanner from the guard’s hand, he yells, and reach for your knife from your pocket, digging it right in his thigh. Tess shouts something furious at you, while the guard screams in painc dropping the scanner. He dives for his gun as you get to your feet, aiming for your head, retreating in sudden fear.

Joel moves in front of you. “Stop! We can talk this out!”

He’s relentless. “Move.” The light from the gun is blinding, bright and unmoving. “I said, move.” The gun clicks, and Joel doesn’t hesitate. He throws himself at the guard, the two practically wrestling. Joel gets a hit in, hard, and the guard goes down, trying to get his hands around Joel’s throat. You can hear your pulse in your ears, watching Joel’s fist go down over and over against the guard’s head, until he relents, heaving for breath with a bloody, shaking fist. The man on the ground doesn’t move.

You’re transfixed, barely able to believe what Joel has done. It’s horrifying and gross, but Joel saved your life in doing so. He’s staring at the man, catching his breath.

Movement on the ground behind you prompts you to step aside, heart plummeting to your stomach. Tess has picked up the scanner, and looks between the scarlet colour illuminating her face, to your own, an unfathomable look. She looks away, at Joel.

“Joel!” She calls, and you try to snatch it from her; she leans away, holding it out of your reach, showing Joel. He doesn’t move, doesn’t look away from the scanner showing red, a look you can’t describe.

“No,” you try. “I’m not sick! I’m not infected!”

“Joel!” She barks, kicking the man into action.

“Oh yeah?” He exclaims, taking the scanner from Tess’s outstretched hand. “Then explain this.”

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not sick. Believe me!” You try, flaying your hands. Tess raises to her feet, and clutches her gun, raising it level with you. “I swear! Please just believe me—”

“Why should we?”

That’s when the sound of vehicles get closer, the familiar hum of FEDRA cars. Searchlights grow brighter. Tess and Joel share a look of desperation. The man reaches down and swipes you up by the strap of your backpack, pulling you along almost quicker than your feet can catch up. Tess sprints alongside, shutting off her flashlight. You’re running practically blind, with only Joel’s guiding hand on your back to lead you in the right direction.

Somewhere in the distance, an Infected screams, and behind you, FEDRA grow closer; you have no choice but to keep going, trusting Tess and Joel with your life.

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Cigarette Burns

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.8K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: near-death experience, trauma from abusive mother, DESCRIPTION OF BURNS

—————

When my time comes around. Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down

The cold is an enemy to fear more than infected or regular people in this kind of world. You could be in a remote area with no one for hundreds of miles, but the cold is always there. It doesn’t hide or wait for you to call it out, it attacks harshly and violently with no forgiveness. If you don’t have warm enough clothes, shelter, or fire you’re not surviving the night out with Mother Nature. It feels like thousands of needles stabbing into your skin repeatedly, or a numbing sensation that fills your body with panic when you can’t move your limbs. The cold could feel like you are melting it scorching your skin as it brings you to the sweet release of death. Cold isn’t a friend to any it went for everyone and everything, and only walked away knowing that you weren’t going to get back up.

Kansas winters were easier than Wyoming. Having a building to hide and be sheltered from, though run down with limited heat. You became resourceful, the puddle of blankets pushed right next to the heater waiting for the sputters and rattling as the heat flowed through it to get you through the night. The heater right beside the window allows you to gaze up into the sky connecting the stars to create paintings in the inky darkness. You are surprised how much was coming from the heater. It was never on for this long maybe a minute max but it was flowing steadily through.

“Honey?” The airiness of your mother’s voice threw you in a whirlwind not expecting the softness coming from the usual snarl and venom. “Come to bed with Mommy. Aren’t you so cold?” She stands at the doorway to her room holding her hand out as you push yourself up from the makeshift bed of blankets.

“But you don’t like me in your room.” You whisper out to her. It was one of the many things she ordered you to never touch. But her room was the biggest, she didn’t want you stealing anything as she puts it. She gives a soft smile still holding out her hand.

“Come on…daddy and I are waiting for you.” She says and you freeze. Your dad? But you never knew him, he left long before you were even born. A thing she constantly reminds and blames you for.

Ruining my fucking life….I should never have slept with that bastard…should have gotten rid of you the second I found out I was pregnant….bastard child along with a bastard father.

You always wondered what he’d be like, probably kind and strong, someone who would wipe your tears away when you were sad and make you smile from the jokes he would tell. To protect you from your bullies…to keep you safe from your mother. You wished he stayed so he’d take you away and it would be the two of you. But you never expressed those things. You tried asking about your father when you were very young but it only led to her screaming at you, how you were an ungrateful brat, after everything she’s done you wanted to think about being with your father. The guilt she held over your head like a toy twisting and molding it to have her be the perfect mother and you the horrible daughter.

Maybe you are a bad daughter…

Your father didn’t want you and she could have abandoned you too but didn’t. Was it love? You don’t think you knew what love is, whether platonically or romantically so those thoughts died. The idea of a father seemed like a fading thought, the idea seemed unrealistic like it was impossible to exist. Staring at the bedroom door that held your mother…and father waiting for you. To protect you…to love you.

“Come on kid!” A voice yells and your eyes snap open seeing Joel above you. Your body instantly shakes and you feel so cold and the striking pain in your shoulder and neck. It isn’t just the lack of body temperature that is painful each shiver and quake causes your body to ache and that produces more pain in your shoulder. Everything is fuzzy and dim your head feels like a dead weight as it almost lolls back if the man didn’t grab your neck to keep you stable. “Keep your eyes open. You’re alright,” He says before he yells over his shoulder, “Ellie where are those damn blankets!”

“I got them!” A young voice yells out and you see the girl holding a crap ton of blankets that she could barely see where she is walking. Another large shiver racks through your body an instinctive groan of pain as Joel looks over seeing your outerwear is off, your coat, socks, and boots are soaked in snow. The single layer of the long-sleeve shirt was still bleeding heavily and you weren’t even wearing gloves. Your fingers and parts of your face were bright red but he was glad to not see any signs of frostbite but mild symptoms of frostnip. The thick line across your throat from the cable made the flesh raw and irritated. He felt cemented in place trying to think of the next best step but he could only see his little girl in his arms when he had to carry you inside when you passed out from the pain and cold.

“Joel move, find the suture kit, and then get something warm for her drink. Tommy washcloths and gets some wood to start a fire. Ellie watch him.” Maria moves the older man aside before giving her son to the younger girl as she takes over the survival and motherly instincts coming out taking complete control of the situation. Your body practically vibrates from the cold and Maria moves closer you try to pull away but your shoulder makes you wince.

“You’re alright I need to take off your shirt so we can check your wounds. You have something under this?” Her voice is warm and comforting and she could see fear in your eyes surprising her used to sharp and cold ones. After gaining more sense of consciousness and understanding of the situation you were in you nod and she helps you sit up the blankets covering part of your stomach and your legs. Tommy returns with the washcloths and Joel with the suture kit before they return to their second task. Her hands move to your shirt and you stiffen and she waits noticing the uneven rhythm of your breathing before helping take off your shirt. Left in a slightly bloody tank top the shirt now clutched between your hands as you hear Maria’s sharp inhale. The noise drew the attention of the two adults just finishing their duties and the young girl.

Ellie had entered the kitchen with the baby to keep their view away from that finding the man standing there frozen unsure what to make, you couldn’t have coffee it could mess with your heart, and alcohol was out of the question. Joel had seen your aversion to the amber liquid. He hadn’t noticed the tightness in his chest and the ringing in his ears until Ellie grabbed his arm pulling him out of his state of panic.

“Joel..” The girl pulls him from his thoughts as he looks at his surrogate daughter, “You alright?” He wasn’t sure where this sudden state of panic came from. He had watched you ride out after one of the horses, himself and Tommy following after entering the storm urgency in them knowing you had no idea what was out there and you were defenseless. They had heard the large bang that sent fear through both brothers before the horses appeared without the rider. Joel headed off where they came from while Tommy wrangled the creatures. He had arrived just before it was too late seeing you being choked by a raider quickly shooting the one that was suffocating you seeing the damage you committed to the other raider. You had almost attacked him the fear and adrenaline probably overdosing your veins seeing the cold affecting you and the speckles of blood on your face.

It was that same fear in your eyes that he’d seen before. The years ago when Ellie had been kidnapped he was too late to rescue her from losing her innocence as she killed her captor, but the same fear that night all those years ago as his little girl clutched his arms as the life faded from her. He saw that same fear in your eyes and it sent him into a panic like he was reliving a horrid memory where he just kept failing. The nightmares he couldn’t remember when he woke up though he didn’t have them as often but when you came into his life they seemed to return. You are harsher and ruthless, everything he was during the beginning of the end of the world but you were only a kid. Tainted with the basics of childhood and thrust into the hate and death of the world. There are many things he wanted to know; how did you end up in Wyoming from Kansas, did you lose your parents during your travels, he wanted to know everything that there was about you. This draw and connection he didn’t think he’d feel. You are blunt, crude, aggressive, and an annoyance to him but here he stood panicking over you.

Why?

“I don’t think we have anything…to um..drink.” He says forcing himself to take a shaky inhale to calm his rapid heartbeat. Ellie seems to sense the panic and see the softness in the man’s eyes. Despite it being about a year in Jackson Joel was still a recluse, sure he helped around the community being a contractor in his past but he wasn’t one to make friends. He spoke in short phrases, grunts, and nods when people talked to him. It reminded her of someone she knew. He only really cracked a smile or told those dumb jokes around his brother or Ellie, and sometimes Maria. But you are here and she saw the softness as he held you in his arms bringing you inside or when he spoke to you before he was sent off into the kitchen. Ellie moves through the kitchen opening a cabinet reaching into the far back feeling the bag of treats she has hidden pulling out the bag of chocolatey goodness then to a fridge pulling out some milk. She puts the objects in Joel’s hands as he looks at them confused.

Ellie points at the chocolate and the milk, “Put that in there and heat it up, it’s good. It’s called-” “I know what hot chocolate is.” Joel grunts surprised to see the candy it looks handmade as he gets to work. He remembers a time when he made these during Christmas with small marshmallows and using candy canes to stir, even on rainy days watching a movie, or during sick days knowing they always warmed up Sarah making her feel better from whatever illness was affecting her. It was domestic and normal standing over the stove watching the milk heat up as he stirred the broken pieces of chocolate to melt once warm enough pouring it into a mug. He enters the room with the younger girl and his nephew and hears Maria’s sudden inhale and panic rises in him.

“What is it?” Tommy asks heading towards his wife stopping and his eyes widen taken over by shock. Joel was more panicked and Ellie was curious about what was going on as she and Joel took in what was shocking Maria and Tommy. They all noticed the scars that litter your arms, they expected something from someone who protected themselves out in this fucked up world. But they were crude the scars probably worse than the injury with the suture work you likely performed on yourself, but that wasn’t the scar and injury that had caught Maria’s attention and soon drew all theirs as Ellie tried understanding what a group of scars on your arms were.

“What is that?” Ellie questions the dot-shaped scars and Joel feels a sickness fill his stomach, “Are those burns?” She says that the adults in the room who did live in a normal world at one point recognize the scars that could only be caused by an object that was used by frequently stressed-filled parents with sticks of nicotine.

“Ellie take Liam upstairs. Now.” Joel’s voice is harsh and the teen tries to protest but with the look Joel gives her she doesn’t dare to defy taking the young baby upstairs the door to her room closing. Tommy stands up holding a fist to his mouth trying to hold in his rage.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tommy spits the anger thick in his voice “Tommy.” Joel gives a warning tone to his younger brother.

“It’s fucking cigarette burns Joel. Christ,” Tommy wipes his hands down his face, “Those have to be years old.” You frown at Tommy's pacing vibrating with frustration and rage. The younger Miller seems to have noticed your look bending down to your level, “I’m not mad at you kid it’s just…you didn’t deserve this whoever did this to you.” You look away from the male using part of the shirt to cover your arms the small burns covered your forearms but the damage was already done they had seen it. Maria starts grabbing the needle and thread but you try stopping her.

“I can do it,” You look ashamed seeing their pity in their faces, “I don’t need your help.” Maria shakes her head.

“Just let me do this for you or we’re getting the doctor.” She places the final offer but you’re trying to pull your shirt back on biting your lip to stop the groan of pain and the once-clotted blood begins free-flowing. Joel curses grabbing one of the washcloths and presses it to your shoulder.

“Stop it! I don’t need your help!” You yell trying to pull away but it only creates more pain for you. “Stop it kid. You can’t see the full extension of it and your previous work isn’t a good show of trust,” Joel says and you glare up at him.

“Please kid, you’ve been bleeding for a while.” Tommy pleads and the rational side that wishes to live wins out but the more pissed off side doesn’t go down easy.

“I don’t want you here.” You say and Tommy sighs but if that was what got you to comply he gets up heading towards the stairs. You look over at Joel who hasn’t moved, “You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.” You hiss and for a second you feel guilty seeing his concern reveal slight hurt before it’s quickly covered by the mean expression constantly on his face. Joel nods stiffly moving out of the living room past his brother the door to his room slamming shut while Tommy makes his way to Ellie’s room to see his son.

The living room is quiet except for the occasional grunt of pain from you when the needle pierces through your skin and a murmur of apologies from Maria. Holding one of the washcloths to wipe away stray blood that spills Maria sits behind you as you sit sideways on the couch. Your gaze is drawn to the falling snow from the window in the living room counting the flakes that made contact with the glass.

“You know you should talk about it.” Maria speaks up and she watches your shoulders stiffen at her words before she continues, “You had us worried when Tommy and Joel watched you rush after that horse.” It’s quiet and she isn’t even sure if you heard what she said.

“We only want what’s best for you and seeing these kinds of injuries on your body. I worry Tommy worries, Ellie worries, even Joel. Especially Joel.” She says and a mixture of a scoff and laugh comes from you.

“What do you know what’s best for me…you’ve kept me here for your safety.” You say, “If you wanted to you could have killed me already so no one would find this place.” It was true if this had been any situation and you had stumbled upon them you would have been six feet under by now, but they met you, they came to the cabin, they decided to bring you back and help you. You could have bled out in that cabin if they had left when you told them to.

“And we didn’t because we are trying to bring back a sense of normalcy here. If we just killed people left and right we would be no better than those raiders after you,” Maria says and you hiss slightly from the needle entering your flesh. “In case you hadn’t noticed everyone in this building cares about you. And no matter how much you curse or say you don’t need our help. Deep down there’s a part of you that wants to let us in to ask for help.”

Maria lets silence fill the two of you as she continues her sewing and you don’t seem to even flinch at the pain. “It’s my fault anyway.” You say and Maria glances over your shoulder seeing you grip the bloody washcloth between your hands.

“I got myself in that mess and I found out what happened….I fucked around and I found out.” Your voice was thick tracing each burn on your arms with your eyes each ranging from light scar tissue from how long it's been others just as old darken from how long the butt of the stick pressed into your flesh. The young screams still echo in your ears as your arm was held to the table when it first happened just to get hit for crying. You learned quickly to not cry when she gave you that punishment.

“And who said it was your fault cause those don’t look like just a one-time occurrence.” Maria presses wanting to hear a name or someone. She prays whoever did this was long dead or suffering a horrible life. You felt a tightness in your throat at the question. You can still smell the nicotine and liquor on her breath the harsh grip of her nails breaking the skin with her warnings.

“Tell anyone and you’re going to wish you were never born.”

She isn’t here she couldn’t do anything. As much as you knew she was long gone Kansas City was running wild with infected from what Ellie described in her journeys.

“My..my mom.” It was so quiet you are certain she didn’t hear you but she did. She pauses the needle held in her hand as she looks at the profile of you. “It wasn’t her fault. She acts out when she’s mad. We were low on ration cards and I had gotten in trouble with Fedra.” It was a ramble of excuses that Maria knew did excuse burning your child. Maria’s silence makes you stop.

“Just…don’t tell them. I can feel your pity eating away.” You say and the older woman frowns she does feel bad for you. No child should have ever been treated like that and she was certain some of these other injuries may have been the cause of your mother.

“And your father,” She finally speaks up as she ties off the last stitch moving to clean the rest of the blood with the cloth, “He didn’t try to stop her?”

“A man that I’ve never met can’t really help ya know.” You say dryly. You wish he was there. Maybe he would have stopped it all, taken you away, and been the dad you’ve only seen in stories and dreams. But he wasn’t. Did that make him worse than her, he left a woman pregnant in a world that was ending around you all. Wrapping your shoulder in the bandage and briefly covering your neck she pulls back beginning to collect the items for the suture kit and bloody washcloths.

“Thank you.” You say and Maria looks back seeing you still not facing her and a small grin grows on her face. It was progress, slow progress but progress. More than a one-sided conversation though not a lighthearted one and a ‘thank you’ not some nod or even forced. Genuine.

“Just be careful with your shoulder.” She says before she heads upstairs to collect her husband and son from the event-filled night. When both Miller brothers, Maria and Ellie return downstairs to head out but also check in on you just catching a glimpse of you retreating to your room. The living room was back in order the suture kit was all packed up the bloody washcloths and your shirt was thrown away. Maria reassured the three of them you were alright and Ellie was a bit upset wanting to see you but retreated back to her room to sleep. Joel looks over at the mug still full resting on the table his gesture of help is forgotten and it makes his chest ache slightly.

“She’s gonna be alright?” Tommy says while fixing his grip on his sleeping son, the three adults had seen the scars and burns, and how you acted to them and towards people explained a lot.

“It was a pretty deep cut and her neck was raw as hell but other than that she’s alright,” Maria explains but Joel could see she was hiding something. There was a look on her face something she knew but she didn’t tell him even Tommy.

“And the burns,” Tommy whispers not wanting to speak up on it around his son even though he was fast asleep and too young to remember. Joel watches Maria as she pauses before fixing her coat.

“She wouldn’t tell me how she got them.” Liar. He could spot the lie as clear as day. But why was she covering for you? Joel nods and with nothing more to say the small family of three left to return to their home as Joel moves to the living room. Your coat hung on the hooks and your shoes and socks were piled neatly in the corner despite him ripping them off you in a panic. It’s as if you were never injured and sewed back together on the couch. Your features for such a young girl held such tiredness and stress even as you bled out. No fear though. Not a moment where you were afraid of dying just wanting this moment of weakness to go. A weight in his gut from the circumstances of today, thousands of scenarios running through his head, what if he and Tommy were too late for the raiders? What if your injuries were too severe for them to help you?

Stop it, Joel.

He shakes his head looking at the couch and your words ring back at him,

“You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.”

Pulling back like he was burned he returns to his room pushing away the insecurities and questions. The still-filled mug remains on the table the only thing holding the memories of what occurred tonight.