#virgo maria | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heartpascal · 1 year

Text

lock it when you leave

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

▹ — summary: part three of if the door wasn’t shut — tensions rise in jackson, leaving you scrambling to find your place.

▹ — a/n: guys i’m not all that happy with this part!!! it feels kinda … filler-y. but we are getting somewhere!!! i have ideas for part 4 :’) let me know what you guys think!! (if you guys wanna be tagged in future parts let me know)

▹ — warnings: angst, guns, fire, murder, there’s a baby in this one, blood, arguments, infected + raiders, father figure miller bros

▹ — tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @pedropascalsrealgf @faceache111 @livvy256 @dizzyforyou @hiphopdancer101universe @aphrcdites @axionn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @coolchick333 @hufflepuffriver @kobenio @dorothleah @moonygremlin @tomorrowseverything @martinsmomo @teenagetragediesforeveryone @dksjskx @inkiqayo @fariylixie0915 @jbcalway @ipadkidsworld @coldwcter @rhyanna6012 @gimalo135 @kimpineeeeeeee @jerseygirllll @dreamerglassesgirl @g0bble @firsttimewriter92 @coldheartedmar @cheneyq @dilfsaremyfavourite @sakurarukas @brilliantopposite187 @ilovemydinoboi @chiogarza @lockleywife @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @doctorliamsr @dustyroper28 @daffodil0darling @marchstrilogy @cappucinolia @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr @slut4timotheechalamet

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO

howl’s song association!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Four months ago, when the wound was still fresh, you never would’ve thought that you’d be here. Stood comfortably in the Miller’s home, stirring food over the stove as Tommy and Maria fussed over the newborn of the household in their living room.

In fact, you would’ve bet against this exact scenario, certain that you’d never let yourself get close to another Miller ever again. It was the only logical thing for you to do — after all, that wound had been angry and sore, the blood still wet.

You wouldn’t say it had healed, not even close, really. It still throbbed, white hot to the touch, especially when you thought of Joel and Ellie, but you were managing. Coping. It helped, having Tommy and Maria around, far more than you had ever expected. They were kind, softened from years of sanctuary, and you hated to admit it, but you cared about them.

The feeling had snuck up on you, which was ridiculous, considering that was exactly how it had happened before. Though, perhaps you had been less apprehensive the first time around, considering the way you flinched away from their care in the beginning. You should’ve expected it, should’ve fought against it with everything in you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

This was the reminder of just how human you were. Despite all the pain, the suffering and anger and scars against your skin, you craved connection. You wanted people to care about you, wanted your life to have meaning, even though it seemed to only end in your own heartbreak.

You just hoped this would be different.

A childish thing, to hope, in a world like this one, but that’s what you were, right? You were allowed to be childish, to let that hope build back up until it was inevitably knocked down, reduced to rubble. People seemed to appear from the strangest of places, coming to help you scavenge through the debris for something to rebuild the foundations with.

That’s what Tommy and Maria had been to you — fitting, really, considering what Tommy had done in the time before cordyceps. They had spent time with you, helping you build up that hope for something better, something kinder.

You hated to do it, hated to lean back into relationships, but you trusted the two of them more than you were willing to admit to anyone — even to yourself. With their own child now in the world, you just hoped that you wouldn’t get in the way.

Maria’s drawn out sigh shook you from such thoughts, and you raised an eyebrow at her where she stood beside you, her back resting against the kitchen counter. “What’s up with you?” You ask her, turning your gaze from her slight smirk back to the food, where you started to fish on to plates. It was a good job she’d caught your attention — much longer and the three of you would’ve been eating charred scraps.

“Oh, nothing.” She responded, and looked sharply to you when you scoffed a slight laugh. “What?” She asked, grinning.

“That was the biggest sigh I’ve ever heard, and I’ve known Joel for about as long as I can remember.” You told her, almost absentmindedly, not thinking too much on the joking comment until after you’d already spoken it.

Maria’s smile got small, and she took over the garnishing part of dishing out dinner, the part that you still didn’t understand. Why put it on there if it didn’t need to be? And when Tommy was definitely going to pick it off?

“Don’t judge me,” Maria told you, saying your name in what was almost a scolding voice, “Tommy’s just putting the baby to bed, he’ll be in in one sec.” She said, after you had moved to pick up his plate, too. You raised a hand, grabbing her plate and leaving her to bring the cutlery, rolling your eyes when she scolded you.

“Calm down, Maria, it’s only been a week. Let me help.” You said to her, when she continued to lecture you on just how capable she was, despite the way she held onto the walls and doorframes with one hand as she walked, the other holding onto her now slightly flatter stomach.

“She giving you a tough time?” Tommy asked, having settled the baby, and hearing Maria’s rants.

“Isn’t she always?” The two of you shared an amused look when Maria immediately jumped on the defence, only relenting with a roll of her eyes when Tommy leant down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, don’t forget who just got you all your new clay, kid!” Maria told you, as Tommy left to grab his own plate from the kitchen, and grinned when your shoulders sagged in defeat. “How’re the mugs coming?”

You shrugged idly, scraping food onto your fork.

“You talked my ear off about those damn mugs, and now you’re quiet?” Tommy questioned as he dropped down with a huff on the couch, stretching back slightly.

“That was just to annoy you.” You told him, fighting a grin when he sat up with something close to an incredulous expression on his face. You wouldn’t lie, though, it warmed your chest slightly that Maria was asking about such things when you knew how exhausted she was. Painfully, you realised that she reminded you more and more of Tess. “They’re… good. Kinda. Improving.” You said to Maria after a brief pause, before shoving your food into your mouth.

“Well, we could do with some more. Only got the two, and you’ll need one. Plus some for guests.” Maria said between bites of food, ignoring the look Tommy shot at her for the guests comment. You weren’t stupid — you knew that she was talking about Joel and Ellie. They didn’t really have other guests, after all. Any other socialising was done in town, even town-related meetings, usually going down early in the morning in the hall.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You responded, feeling something shiver down your spine bitterly as you thought of Joel and Ellie coming here.

Usually, you pretended they didn’t. You liked to think that Tommy and Maria’s house was untouchable, impervious to anyone who wasn’t you, them, or their new baby. You saw the remnants of their other guests, of course, like when you’d come in the morning, and there would be four plates in the sink. Or when Ellie’s coat still rested on the coat hooks. But the couple’s presence felt comforting, and you weren’t willing to give it up. Not right now, at least.

You refused to let Joel take anything else away from you. He didn’t have the right — he never did. It wasn’t like he was your father! Joel had made that much clear from the start, back when it had just been you, him and Tess.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“She doesn’t have anyone, Joel, what else was I meant to do?” Tess asked, her words biting as she yelled them toward her partner.

“The last thing we need is a kid to take care of. Send her to FEDRA.” Joel responded, his voice loud, but not quite a shout. He was trying to be the voice of reason here, not the asshole. Looking after some child they didn’t ask for, it could only end badly.

What if somebody came looking for you? Somebody with a vengeance? What if you turned out to be some asshole kid who killed them both? What if they couldn’t get the rations to feed you? What if—

“What? So she can get shot in the street in a few years? Joel, she should get a choice.” Tess bargained, unsure herself as to why she felt the need to defend you so much.

She knew Joel was right — knew that it wasn’t practical or realistic to keep you in their shitty apartment, but some part of her just knew. You needed the two of them, and in the middle of the apocalypse, was it really too difficult to do one good thing? Tess wasn’t saying it to be a hero — but god knows that too many kids had died already. She wasn’t trying to give Joel somebody else to look after, she was just trying to help.

Tess wanted to be able to look you in the face, and tell you that this was your chance. They didn’t turn up often in the apocalypse, and she wanted to urge you to take it. Was that too much to offer? Just an opportunity to live a bit longer, to survive in a world that strived for your death?

“Tess…” Joel sighed heavily, turning his head to look where you were sat back against their couch cushions, knees drawn to your chest as you ducked your head, clearly pretending that you hadn’t been listening the whole time. “Okay, fine. Let the kid stay.”

Tess nodded at him, the two of them moving apart as she headed towards where you were sat, something heavy and daunting resting on her shoulders as she looked at you, foolishly hoping she wouldn’t live to regret this.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Things were getting tense in Jackson.

You knew that things had been growing restless for a while, but it had gotten worse, somehow beginning to feel tangible in the very air you breathed.

Two separate raiding attacks had come in the past three weeks, which was definitely cause for concern. The first hadn’t gotten far enough to reach you where you had slept in your shop, and it was only the morning after as the dead were buried that you found out it happened.

The second was not so easy — waking you up in the middle of the night, which was an easy task, considering how light your sleep had become at the reminder that the walls around Jackson weren’t impenetrable. You woke up to the sounds of yelling, the roaring of flames, which sounded far too close to comfort. It was only when you rushed outside of your shop, clay carving tool clutched in your hand, that you knew for certain it was raiders.

They’d gotten deep into the town, which was a shock to the system, making it feel like cold water was running down your back. People were running on the street, gunfire sounding from further out, by the wall. The raiders seemed to be multiplying, but you knew they couldn’t be more than a party of twenty. No way would any of the guards miss a group bigger than that, right?

“Get back inside!” One of them yelled towards you, a rifle sitting stiffly in his hand, and a helmet resting on his head. He didn’t have a very commanding voice. You stayed where you were, frozen.

He approached, fingers tightening on his gun, and you could’ve sworn that your heart was beating so fast in might explode. The blood was rushing in your ears, and you felt sick for a moment, before the cold wash of reality came over you, in the form of the raider yelling so harshly in your face that you could smell his breath.

You blinked harshly at him, and swallowed down the bile in your throat as he moved to raise his gun toward your head. It felt like something had snapped in you, and you were launching yourself at him in less than a second, reminiscent of a barely-there memory back before Ellie was around.

Your clay tool hadn’t been very sharp, so it had taken force to push it into his neck when he fell down under your sudden weight. You tried not to think about the pressure you’d forced on it as you shoved his head down into the pavement when he tried to lift it in some form of defence, likely trying to smack his helmet into your face. His hands reached up, pushing you away with a burst of strength — what you hoped was the final burst of adrenaline.

Loose stones on the ground scraped up against your arm, drawing the tiniest bits of blood as you skidded across the floor where he had shoved you. When he turned his gaze to you, you bared your teeth, snatching his gun and holding it firmly away from you when he reached for it, pulling the trigger.

Glass shattered behind you, and you tugged the gun until it came away from his grasp, and he reached up, pulling the tool from where it stuck out of his neck.

The gun was firmly in your hands, aimed at him, before he could even raise the tool towards you, the sudden rush of blood from his body only rendering him weaker.

Your name had been called a second later, and you scrambled away from the raider as gunshots slowly faded out, leaving behind scared shouts and the blaze of the still-burning fire. You looked up to see Tommy, rushing towards you and tugging you up from the ground the moment he reached you.

“Shit,” He muttered, holding your arms tightly as he let his gun hang limply at his side. “Are you okay? You hurt?”

You shook your head, still grasping onto the stolen gun, and watched him sigh in something close to relief, before he turned his gaze to the shattered front of your shop.

“Come on.” Tommy urged then, nodding his head and only releasing you when you made to follow him, and he grasped onto his own gun as you began the trek to his and Maria’s home.

When you got there, Tommy shoved you inside and quickly shut the door behind him, taking the gun from your hands and resting it against the wall by the coatrack. He did the same with his own gun, a moment later.

“Maria!” You called, your voice scratchy as it left your throat. The baby was crying, you could hear it the moment you stepped inside, and you moved straight into the kitchen, finding Maria stood there, holding onto the baby and shushing, as she paced back and forth.

“Oh, thank god, you’re both okay.” She sighed out, approaching her husband and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. The worry lines on her forehead were visible, showing how stressed and anxious she truly was. “You hurt?” She asked the two of you, raising her voice to be heard over the crying baby she rocked in her arms.

“No, we’re alright.” Tommy answered, his words sounding close to relief despite the way his muscles remained tight, tense.

“Shit, Tommy,” Maria swore, looking at a gash that was trickling blood down his arm. “We gotta get you patched up. Would you mind?” She directed the last question to you, lifting her arms slightly to show off the crying baby held in them.

“Uh— sure.” You agreed, anxiously, because despite the fact it had been a few weeks since the baby was born, you had continued to keep your distance. You followed Maria into the living room, where she sat you down on the couch and placed him in your arms, as you tried to mirror the shape of her own.

He was loud, and heavier than you had expected, but you let him rest heavily in your left arm, with your right just resting gently against his side, finger running over the pyjamas he was dressed in.

“You two gonna be alright?” Tommy asked, nodding when you did, and following Maria to the upstairs bathroom, where their personal first aid kit was kept.

You rocked your arms the slightest bit, trying not to release the sigh of relief when the baby finally began to settle down, the loud sounds fading and leaving behind a tense silence over Jackson. When all the loud noises faded, you were left with a slight ring to your ears, likely from where that raider had fired his gun right beside them, aimed at your shop.

You couldn’t imagine how Maria had felt — she was a protector, and it must’ve killed her to stay behind with the baby whilst her husband left to help out the town. She was still recovering from giving birth, the event taking its toll, especially in the apocalypse, where the painkillers she’d had during her first birth weren’t available. Medical professionals were hard to come by, with only two residing in Jackson, neither specialising in things such as pregnancy or labour.

Luckily, they knew more than enough about it to give Maria the best chance at survival she could get. You don’t know how Tommy might’ve reacted if she hadn’t gotten through the birth. You didn’t want to think about it.

“Tommy? Maria?” A voice yelled, the front door banging open and causing the baby to begin his wailing once again. “Shit, sorry—” Ellie cut herself off as she entered the room, shock evident on her face when she saw you sat in there.

“They’re upstairs.” You answered stiffly, referring to her earlier yells, and you began rocking the baby boy once again, trying to settle his cries. You ran a gentle finger down his forehead, to the tip of his nose, shooting Ellie a nasty look when she just continued to stare at you.

“Joel went to find you.” She said, after a few moments, lowering her voice as you finally got the baby to begin settling, your arms tense as you tried to keep him as still as possible. You looked up at that, eyebrows creasing as you regarded her, saw the way her fingers fiddled together, pulling at the zip of her jacket.

“Why?” You questioned, confused for a moment. After all, Joel hadn’t cared much about leaving you behind when the two do them left Jackson, so why would he care about your whereabouts while you were here? “I can take care of myself.” You said, when she didn’t respond to your question, and you felt your jaw tighten when Ellie just rolled her eyes.

“Joel did what he did to take care of you. Why can’t you see that?” Ellie asked, voice hardening as she looked at you, lounged against the couch, holding Joel’s nephew in your arms, whilst he was on there searching for you.

You sat up slightly, a deep crease forming between your brows at the fire in Ellie’s words. It made somerhing uncomfortable stir in your chest, tightening and getting hotter as you looked at her expression.

“I didn’t ask him to do that. I wanted to come with you both. He took that from me, Ellie, he left me behind.” You said, feeling like you were turning in circles, beginning to feel dizzy and not getting anywhere. You strained to keep your arms somewhat relaxed, to keep your hands still where they wanted to clench into fists.

Her next words were quieter, and you struggled to hear them over the ringing still in your ears, drowning out the blazing world around you. She spoke again, her eyebrows furrowing to match your own, “You’re being unfair, you said you didn’t want to carry on!”

“I said I wanted to go home!” You said, voice raising for a moment, before you quietened your tone, only for the sake of the baby you held, who had already been disturbed enough tonight. “And in case you didn’t notice, Ellie, that was impossible. I lost everyone, don’t you get that?”

She shook her head, her cheeks going red as she grit her teeth, “Of course I fucking get that! You’re not the only one who lost people.”

“That’s not what I said!” You responded, feeling increasingly heated the longer the conversation went on, “But that trip cost me everything. So yeah, maybe I didn’t want to carry on. But I would’ve. I would’ve followed you two anywhere.”

“You got to stay here, in this actual fucking town, with actual fucking people and food and— and water!”

“People who are strangers! I was stuck here, in a town with things I don’t understand, people I don’t recognise, and the only ones I trusted left me here.” You spat back at her, wishing she could just understand what it had been like — didn’t she know how it felt to have your choice taken away from you? Why should they get to decide things for you? What happened to that control that Joel and Tess knew you valued so much?

Ellie opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and you swallowed down the anger that felt lodged in your throat, focusing on the baby who was fussing in your arms, saving his hands in the air until he caught onto one of your fingers, and held it tightly.

“Sh— There you are.” Joel’s voice came from the doorway, a heavy sigh forcing itself from his chest, and he entered the living room, his face crumpled in something like fear and relief. He opened and closed his mouth more than once, like he wanted to say something, before he finally settled on, “Tommy okay?”

“Maria’s patching him up.” You said flatly, turning your head away from where he stood beside Ellie, and keeping your gaze on the baby and where he was slowly beginning to dig his blunt nails into the skin of your finger.

Joel stared at you, his chest feeling close to hollow, and he could just remember the fear that had swallowed him whole when he saw the raider lay dead outside of the shop, the shop windows shattered against the ground. He had shoved the door open faster than he could think, his boots crunching against shattered glass loudly as he rushed to the door in the back, his heart pounding so hard he thought he might have a heart attack as his eyes scanned the ground.

When he had finally gotten the door open, a breath had left him as he realised you weren’t here, and he felt the pressure that had been pushing against his spine loosen the slightest bit, and he hurried to make his way back to Rancher Street, hoping with everything he had that you were at Tommy’s.

And now, here you were, as safe as you could possibly be, but Joel still didn’t feel relieved.

He felt dread, all consuming, and it reminded him painfully of that time, all those many months ago. Had it been a year?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Joel’s hand had been frozen, finger hovering over the trigger of his pistol, and he felt the air in his lungs struggling to get out. It was suffocating, making his body ache as he stared at you, where you held your breath, pressed as tightly to the wall as you could get.

Your eyes had closed, and he could see the muscles in your face twitch as you tried not to flinch away. One wrong move, wrong breath, wrong sound, and you’d be dead in a second — or worse, and Joel didn’t want to think about worse.

Tess was on the floor below, the three of you slowly making your way up, clearing the building as you went, aiming to get to the fifth floor, where the supplies were meant to be. Joel knew she wouldn’t be coming up any time soon, with the way the clicking echoed all throughout the room, likely travelling down the staircase.

It was right by your face — you could feel the breath against your cheek as it gargled and clicked, looking for you, getting so close that the shards of fungus that cracked its skull into pieces were almost brushing against your hair.

He didn’t know what to do — if he aimed wrong, he could hit you, or miss entirely, and just alert it to both yours and his own presence. He could try to kill it with the axe that rested against the nearby cabinet, one that he recognised from glass boxes labelled in case of fire, in the time before.

There was a glass bottle beside his foot, and with the slowest movements he could muster, Joel crouched low to the floor, gripping it in tense fingers, and threw it as far away from you as he could get it. He held his breath as it shattered, and the clicker let out a screech in your face, whirling away just as you had to exhale the breath you’d been holding. It hobbled away, unsteady on its feet, and you picked up the axe as you moved away from the wall.

Joel ushered you out of the room, back into the stairway, and grit his teeth as the clicker turned back at the sound of your hurried footsteps. He just about had time to slam the metal door shut, putting the deadbolt at the top back up into the concrete ceiling.

You breathed a sigh of relief, cradling your shaking hand to your chest, while the other gripped onto the axe tightly, ready to swing at a moments notice.

“Skip that floor?” You asked him, in a slightly joking way, and he nodded, face set in a dangerous expression as he glared at the door that shook slightly with the Infected clawing at it from the other side. With shaky legs, you climbed up to the next floor, waiting by the door as Tess poked her head up, hurrying up the steps to the floor you had just been on.

“Everything okay?” She asked, hands out towards Joel as if he was a feral animal, and he hadn’t quite realised just how thunderous his expression had become.

He nodded to the door, hearing the muffled bangs and scraped coming from the other side, the screech of fungal outrage. Tess placed a hand on his shoulder, nodding understandingly at him.

As they ascended the stairs to meet you where you waited for them, Joel could only grit his teeth as dread built tightly into his chest, squeezing his lungs and heart as he looked at your trembling fingers. You were fine, he knew, that Infected hadn’t even managed to touch you, but Joel couldn’t help the way that dread and fear began piling upon him, weighing his chest down so much that it became hard to inhale another breath.

You held the axe up, the thing slightly too heavy for you to carry it comfortably, but you managed, gripping tightly as you waited for Tess to open the door.

Joel exhaled through his nose, swallowing down the heavy feeling that was trying to crawl up his throat, and he swore you wouldn’t get that close to danger again. He didn’t want to lose you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The council meeting hadn’t gone well — you could see it on Maria’s face, the moment she stepped through the door to your shop. The tense air in Jackson had only gotten worse, feeling thicker every time you walked past the old jewellery shop down the street, now reduced to charred remains.

“What happened?” You asked, slightly reluctantly. Clearly, this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. Part of you was worried about what she was going to answer with, too. Could they disband the town?

“Well, nobody’s got answers for how twenty-four guys got past our lookouts. And conveniently, whoever was on lookout when they got past, seems to have been rubbed off of the rota.” Maria grumbled, looking just as miserable as she felt. You felt bad for her — she should’ve been at home, feeling happy about the new member of her family, not having to deal with a town crisis.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, letting Maria press her hands against the wooden table in your shop, and watching as she leant her chin against her chest, a deep sigh leaving her.

“They agreed on fixing up the wall yet?” You asked, feeling bad about doing so when Maria’s shoulders immediately dropped some more.

“No,” She muttered, frustration inking at the corners of her words, “Said somethin’ about conserving resources.”

“But… Jackson’s exposed with that massive hole in the wall.” You replied, eyebrows furrowed in your confusion.

“I know,” Maria replied, your name falling from her lips in a slightly disheartened tone. “That’s the trouble with politics. People lose their common sense. We got another meeting tomorrow, I’m gonna convince them, don’t worry. Got a patrol in two hours, though. You alright with Tommy cooking?”

You nodded at her, frowning when she sighed again, exhausted down to her very bones. With slight hesitation, you followed along behind her as she made her way back to her house to see her son and husband before patrol.

When you arrived, Tommy was holding the baby to his chest, shaking his head as he spoke to the kid in a baby voice. You suppressed a snicker.

Maria cooed, reaching out for the baby, and grinning tiredly when he was finally placed in her arms. With a sympathetic expression, Tommy pressed a kiss to the top of her head, before you caught his eye, nodding your head toward the kitchen.

“Everythin’ alright, kiddo?” Tommy questioned, eyebrows furrowed in concern as you paced the length of his kitchen, before stopping and turning to him, looking nervous.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” You started, your expression just about stopping Tommy from making a stupid joke, “I wanna start going on patrols.”

He stopped suddenly, his whole body going still, and you looked at him with nervous eyes. It wasn’t that you were nervous about going — though you were, a little bit — it was that you were nervous he would say no.

Despite everything that had happened with Joel and Ellie, the slight meltdown back at that cabin before Jackson, it wasn’t about being out there. It wasn’t the Infected that lingered behind corners that scared you, and it wasn’t raiders that made fear settle in your bones, it was Joel and Ellie.

They had been all that you had — everybody else had been lost to the world, and you had longed for a time before all that loss, for the home you had with Joel and Tess, where danger lingered, sure, but not in the same way. They could avoid danger back at Boston QZ, could hide out in their apartment and settle with doing shitty FEDRA-issued jobs for a while if things got too hot.

Out in the world, there was no sense of control, no sense of safety, no matter where you went. You didn’t want to watch Joel and Ellie die like you had with Tess. Didn’t want to close your eyes and still see it, see flames climbing up the building that held one of the only people you cared for. You weren’t sure you could’ve handled losing anybody else, but Joel had forced that upon you, in the end.

By removing you from the outside world, placing you behind walls once again, he had just made your very worst fears come true. You had lost them.

So when you asked to go on patrols, you didn’t feel very scared. After all, you knew the world as well as anybody else, maybe even better than some of the people in Jackson. You knew how to shoot, how to stay quiet, how to spot things that often went unnoticed.

Before losing Tess, you had been good. Despite a few slip-ups here and there, you had been allowed on their rare smuggling trips for a reason. You’d known how to shoot a gun before you had known how to read, and it came naturally to you.

“Absolutely not.” Tommy answered, after a moment, his expression hardening and turning to stone, and you frowned at him.

“‘M only asking you because I was hoping to take on some of Maria’s patrols. She’s exhausted, she needs sleep, and she’s got a meeting tomorrow. She doesn’t need to be goin’ on some patrol right now.” You responded, feeling the usual fondness that came with speaking to him fall away, leaving your voice cold, as your expression went flat at his refusal.

He stayed silent for a few moments, gritting his teeth in a way that was far too reminiscent of his older brother, and he sighed. “No, we’ll find somebody else. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m better than half of the guys you usually take out.” You argued, still trying to keep your voice down, to prevent Maria from coming in and halting any conversation on the topic. “I can handle myself, Tommy.”

“Can you?”

“Yes! Who do you think handled that raider?” You countered immediately, feeling the heat of your anger push against your chest.

“That was different.” Tommy tried, holding his hands out toward you, getting increasingly frustrated as you stepped away from him.

“How was it different?” You snapped, “It wasn’t different. Stop trying to protect me, I’m not some dumb kid, Tommy. You are just as bad as Joel.”

Your words struck hard, and Tommy’s face hardened immediately after you spoke, his frustration growing into something closer to anger.

“Why, because I’m trying to keep you safe? Just like Joel did? It’s not a crime to want you to be okay! You gotta stop treatin’ us like we’re doin’ something wrong for protecting you!” Tommy argued back, and your expression fell when he grouped himself in with Joel.

“That— That was different.” You said, repeating his words back to him, and feeling something nervous press against your neck, your hands wringing together as you stood in front of the Miller, who suddenly resembled his older brother too much.

Maria entered the kitchen then, holding the baby tightly to her chest, and frowning as she looked at where you and Tommy stood at opposite sides of the room.

“What’s going on?” She asked, almost hesitantly.

“Nothin’,” Tommy answered, still looking at you with hard eyes, nothing changing on his expression. You grit your teeth together, feeling frustration cling to the back of your throat. “Right?”

You scoffed, and made your way past him, going straight to the front door and pulling it open roughly. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you stepped out, ignoring Tommy calling your name as you slammed the door shut behind you.

When you hurried away, shoes scuffing against the pathways of Jackson, you ignored how you saw Joel sat on his porch, and just hoped he’d mind his own business.

Two hours later, when there was a knock at your shop door, your eyebrows had furrowed immediately.

You weren’t sure who could be visiting you — Maria should’ve been on patrol already, and Tommy should’ve been back at home, looking after his son. You didn’t get any other visitors, at least, ones that were welcome.

When you opened the door, you saw Joel standing there, looking nervous. Your expression immediately flattened, eyebrows creasing further, and he stopped you before you could even open your mouth. “Wait,” Joel almost pleaded, and seemed close to relieved when you grit your teeth, staying quiet. “Maria asked me to bring this over, said somethin’ about Tommy covering a patrol.”

He held out a box, looking far too nervous for such a simple request, though you could understand. With your eyebrows relaxing slightly, you reached forward and plucked the box from his waiting hands, tilting it to the side to look through the transparent sides of the box at its contents.

When you noticed Joel still stood, unmoving, your eyebrows began to crease once again. “Well, thanks for bringing this over.” You said stiffly, hating how part of you wanted to let go of all of your anger, to pretend nothing ever happened, to just hug him.

You reminded yourself that he did this, that you were allowed to be angry. You had every right to be. You were allowed to scream and cry and shout, to hold on to that anger, to that feeling of being left behind.

It felt like a betrayal to yourself, to still want to be around him, and it hurt even more that he still made you feel safe.

“No problem.” He said, hesitantly, like he wanted to say something else, to continue, to broach the subject of the elephant in the room, but he held himself back. You weren’t sure what was worse, what you preferred more. Him acting like a stranger, or him acting too familiar.

You were so conflicted, over everything. You felt fractured into hundreds of tiny pieces, each individually feeling something different, shouting for their own way. Parts of you wanted to cry and let him comfort you, whilst others screamed for you to yell at him some more, for you to beg and plead for him to feel that hollowness that you had felt when he’d left you. Part of you wanted answers, wanted an explanation that would be enough, that would justify it, but you knew Joel didn’t have one.

For him, he knew it had been the right decision. He felt some peace of mind, knowing you would be safe within the walls, at his brother’s side. But it still pained him, the way you had fractured away from him, and he had let you slip through his fingers. It left a kind of emptiness in him, knowing that you believed he had abandoned you. You believed he had failed you. Joel was scared that you might be right.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, shoving his now empty hands deep into his pockets, and he nodded at you, the action paining him. “I’ll, uh, head off, then.”

You nodded, watching him step back and turn to go before you closed the shop door, missing the way he turned back to say something, only to be faced with a closed door. He heard the lock turn.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had taken three days for Tommy to crack.

He didn’t like the silence between the two of you, it made his neck feel itchy, his heart race uncomfortably. He worried about you, more than he had even realised himself.

So when you looked at him, eyebrows raised expectantly, he couldn’t help but relent. You were stubborn, even now, and you really did remind him of Joel with that expression on your face. Tommy wondered if you knew just how many mannerisms you’d picked up from his older brother, but thought better than to mention it.

“Okay, fine.” He gritted, his gaze steely even as he watched your face light up in victory, “But—”

“But?” You echoed, incredulously.

“But you’re only going on a patrol if one of us is on it, too.” Tommy continued, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at your interruption. When he saw your annoyance, he fixed his statement slightly, “At least to start with. We’ll get you some trainin’, on the horses and guns, then we’ll see where we are.”

You smiled, and as much as Tommy hated to let you get your way in this, he was just glad to see you smiling at him again. “Thanks, Tommy.” You said, letting him reach over and pay your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He grumbled.

“Hey, I made you something.” You told him suddenly, face seemingly lighting up further as you thought of whatever it was. Tommy raised his eyebrows suspiciously, tapping his fingers against the wooden table in the middle of your shop. “I know how much you loved hearing about them, so.”

You held up a box, filled with five mugs, some slightly misshapen, but holding the vague shape of a regular old mug. The handles were difficult, he recalled you telling him, and he could see it reflected in your work, the handles wonky, or curved into a strange shape. He smiled nonetheless, unable to help the laugh that escaped him.

“Well, I never.” He said, amused, and picked up one of the mugs, with a sloppily painted bear on the front. “You figured out the glaze, then?”

“Kinda. Thought it was gonna be blue.” You replied, pointing at the mug with an orangey brown owl painted on. “But I like it.”

“Me too, kiddo, me too. Say, Maria’s gonna be thrilled.” Tommy grinned, putting the mug he was holding back into the box before taking it off of your hands, rolling his eyes when you cautioned him.

“Well, let me know, yeah?” You asked, despite knowing that she was going to love them no matter what they looked like, simply because you made them. You had noticed that about her. You could probably hand her a chunk of clay, which barely resembled anything other than what it was, and she’d thank you for it.

“I will do. You’re comin’ for dinner later, right?” He questioned, gripping onto the box tighter with one hand, so he could free up his other one to place his hand on the door.

“Think I’ll just eat at the hall, tonight. You guys should come, too. Maria does far too much cooking.” You suggested, shrugging his shoulders when he looked offended, as if he should cook more. “Please, do not even go in the kitchen. The baby’s too young to be subjected to the smell of your cooking.” You joked, laughing when he huffed, exiting the house while yelling about not letting you come around anymore.

You shook your head, grabbing a chunk of clay you had cut off from the slab earlier, and dumping it on the wheel.

These people would be the death of you, you were sure, as your chest warmed from the interaction.

PART FOUR

#joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x you #tlou one shot #pedro pascal angst #tlou imagines #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller father figure #joel miller fic #joel miller imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagines #tlou imagine #tommy miller angst #tommy miller fluff #heartpascal writes

3K notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Text

Love Interest

[Character Development Part II]

Joel Miller x Reader + (a not secret pairing)

Summary: Don't you just love it when the universe just hits you with an uno reverse and now you're the one getting flowers?

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, flip zimmerman x reader but idk him and just used his character and made it my own HAHAHHA, pov shift in the end, devil's advocate!ellie, pining, jealousy, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a very niche pairing but im just so psychotic for adam driver that i had to add him. i took the liberty of tagging everyone i could that screamed at me in p1 so enjoy! Tagging: @sloanexx @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @ellooo0ooo @strwwbbrri @zaweashtonslover @aurors-things @b00kw0rmsworld @anxietatema @laysmt @hiddenbabynyc @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi

"Hi." I grunt as I load the basket onto the shelf. I huff and turn around, eyes widening at the fact I have to lift my gaze to find the face of who just spoke. The large man in plaid lets out a breath hot enough it condenses with the chill of the morning air. I offer him a soft smile, "hi." He huffs. His lips curve into a soft grin. I cannot help the way my brows furrow nor the chuckle that leaves me because of his reaction, "can I help you?" He clears his throat. He shifts in his spot then rubs his lips with two fingers, "actually, I'm here to help you." He looks down at the produce in the baskets, sprawled across the floor. He picks two up like it was nothing, "where'd ya want these?" I watch him as he kicks my makeshift step ladder aside (two boxes) and brings the baskets to the high part of the shelf I just couldn't quite reach. He turns to me, "here?" I nod.

"Mornin'," a deep voice huffs.

I turn over my shoulder. I can't help but snigger at the man's just-woke-up face. I shake my head, "clearly not a good mornin', thus the omission."

"Mmm," he grunts, reluctantly reaching his hands out to me, "need some help?"

I burst into giggles as I climb down the ladder with shears in my hand. He steps forward, ghosting his hands over my waist as I go down. I sequentially jump in front of him with a huff.

He fidgets, eyes widening in concern, fully waking up as I do so, "chrissakes."

I snort as I look up at him, "well, do you even know how to prune apple trees?" I show him the shears, "had to learn from the Millers how to do that."

His attention averts from the shears to my face. He mumbles, 200% awake now, "Millers."

I roll my eyes, "Tommy and Maria."

He lets out a breath and nods, taking the shears in my hand, looking to the tree and the ladder, "well, now I'll learn from the Zimmermans."

I huff and roll my eyes, "Flip-"

I still, feeling my lips part.

He looks back at me and clarifies, "you and me, baby."

"I know, I know," he cuts me off, raising a hand, "s'a joke," he climbs up the ladder. He mutters lowly, "half meant, but a joke nonetheless."

I watch as his dark hair brushes against his jaw. I watch as he reaches out for the branches with his thick arms. I watch at how the sunshine reflects on his brown eyes, making them a golden hue. I watch and feel my stomach roll. He brushes his longish hair back. I place my hand on my hip, "do you know how to prune?"

Flip looks down at me, lips curving into a lopsided smile. He pops the p, "nope."

I roll my eyes again, "get down."

"Yes, ma'am," he steps down the two steps my simply taking one big one in front of me. Flip stands in front of me, propping the shears at the top of the ladder.

He looks down at me and stupidly salutes. The constellations of freckles and moles on his face silently urge fingers to retrace them. An early morning breeze blows between us and the smell of grass, flowers, and apples, I find, are slowly beginning to smell like him.

He brings a knuckle to the corner of his eyes and rubs the sand off. His admission of looking for me after taking a morning piss replays in my head after he does this. My belly get even more restless.

"I've been meaning to tell you something," I start, making the man before me still and rigid.

He freezes. I watch him simultaneously gulp and clench his jaw as he drops his hand to the side.

I can't help it. It was a common theme when I was around him-- 'can't help myself'. I can't help but hold back a smile, "I think it's silly you never changed your name."

Flip Zimmerman's face contorts. he takes a moment then his lips fight back a smile.

"I mean," I cross my arms and give an exaggerated look, "we live in a world past birth certificates and IDs..."

I look at how the leaves and branches of the apple trees sway as sunshine kisses their cells. Then, I turn back to Flip, taking in the way the sunshine was kissing him. My eyes dart to his lips. He mirrors my stance, arms crossing, lip corners curving. He furrows his brows and licks the inside of his bottom lip.

I purse my lips tightly at his amused annoyance. I pretend I meant not to continue my train of thought because I caught on he was offended.

"No, go on," Flip nods his head, "please. I'm dying to know how this insult is going to play out."

I laugh, feeling my cheeks hurt as I do. Flip feels his insides churn.

"Well," I try to calm myself, "I was thinking there's no reason for you to go on using the word your parents thought to call you while making pancakes."

Flip is annihilated.

He wheezes so hard, he topples over and sinks down to my height. He reaches out to my arms, squeezing them with his inhumanly large ones, and empties all the amused howls from his diaphragm.

My stomach turns into a washing machine. Its whirring is powered by the sound of his laugh and the feel of his touch.

Flip eventually relents and reclaims his herculean stature. He straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, sighs, and wipes a tear. He chuckles some more as look back at me, "hng- what- hng hng, I'll have you know I enjoy being the only Flip in the known galaxy."

I make a face, "I'm sorry you got Stockholm Syndromed that bad."

He lets out a high pitched giggle. He snorts, "I'll also have you know I plan on naming my child Pivot. I'll say it's French; Pí • vou."

It was my turn to get obliterated. I throw my head back in laughter and slap my hand on my mouth.

Flip starts up like a motorcycle, pleased with my reaction to his joke.

By the time I catch my breath after laughing, I wipe a tear and shake my head, "I feel bad to whomever decides to have a kid with you."

Flip gives a lopsided smirk, "don't worry. I'll be good to you, baby momma."

I instinctively let out a loud sound. Flip watches me as I react, or try my best not to react to his words. I shake my head and move to the ladder, folding it after grabbing the shears.

Flip wordlessly intercepts and takes the ladder from me, ignoring me as I tell him to let me do it. He motions his head, "we doing the next tree or we done for the day?"

"I'm going to do the next tree. You're going to go do your chores."

"You're my chore."

I release a breath and make a face, "uhmmm, that's not as romantic as you think it was."

"So you think I'm romantic?"

"That's literally not what I said."

Later that day, when Flip was finally doing his chores, he was approached by his informant.

He was in the middle of inspecting fuse boxes all over the compound when Ellie sneaks up on him and tries to scare him. Flip, barely flinches as he turns to the girl. He looks at her with slightly wide eyes then relaxes, "hey kid."

Ellie shoves him, "WHY DON'T YOU GET SCARED?!"

Flip barely topples back at her push and looks back to the fuse box, "no idea."

She sighs and comes up to his side, inspecting whatever it was he was doing, then pipes up, "so, how'd apple picking go?"

"It was apple pruning today," he mutters, "and, well, she bullied me over my name."

"Ha," she snorts, "deserve."

Flip ignores this and turns to her after closing the box, "it's clear to me she's obviously still not over your old man."

She flattens her lips into a line.

"So, any ideas?"

Ellie sighs, "look," she raises her hands, "you gotta step up your game! Joel used to do her chores with her too, so that doesn't make you special."

"I thought you said he only did it if she asked."

"Potato, Potahto."

"No, that makes a big dif-"

"YOU GOTTA STEP UP YOUR GAME!" Ellie repeatedly slaps the back of her hand into her palm. Flip stills. She continues, "you should get her something! Something like, I dunno, flowers! Though, I think she would appreciate it more if it was an apple, but you can't really give the apple lady an apple, can you?"

Flip hums, "what about apple pie?"

She gasps and points a finger, "apple pie and flowers."

Flip lets out a chuckle at her excitement, "seems like a plan, except," he shakes hid head, "I can't bake for shit."

"I think this is the part where people say it's the thought that counts," Ellie motions her hands around, "besides, I'm sure as long as you don't poison her, it'll be fine."

Flip tilts his head and looks at the girl as she looks up and thinks, "you know what, I think I remember seeing a recipe book somewhere, let me look for it and," she raises a finger, "I'll even help you."

"Alright," he agrees but then shifts in his spot and crosses his arms, "real talk. Why are you helping me?"

She looks up at the man and makes a face, "bruh," she shakes her head, "I told you! She deserves a hot girl summer."

"It's not s-"

"IT SHOULD ALWAYS BE HOT GIRL SUMMER FOR HER!"

"... how do you even know what that is?"

"ALL I KNOW," Ellie raises a finger "is I was supposed to be making a cake with her, and then I wasn't. And that very same day I find out Joel is hanging out with some other chick. And you," she points, "are going to be evening out the playing field."

Flip watches the teen grow red with anger.

"You also better not mess this up or you'll be my next target," Ellie pulls out her switchblade.

Flip raises his hands and steps back, "fucksake, Ellie, put that away."

Ellie does but points a finger again, "remember. I'm not on your side or his side, I'm on hers." She walks away. Five steps in, she stops and looks over her shoulder, "but also, she smiles a lot more when she's around you, so do what you will with that information."

Flip chuckles as he watches Ellie walk away. He waves his hand around and thinks, "like a rabid bunny."

Ellie goes to Tommy and Maria's place, looking for the recipe book she remembers reading when she was bored. When she comes in, Joel's there and immediately scolds her, telling her to leave her shoes by the door because her boots are grimy and the baby crawls everywhere now.

Ellie rolls her eyes and removes her shoes. She walks up to Joel, who was sat on the living room carpet next to his niece. She chuckles at he sight of the baby ripping at Joel's hair. He raises a thumb in approval, "good job, baby."

Joel turns over his shoulder, inspecting Ellie's sock clad feet and looks back at the baby he was reading to. Before continuing with the flash cards Maria made for her daughter, Joel says, "there's some roast chicken in the counter. They said you can finish it if you want."

Ellie turns to the counter but then walks off to the bookshelf, just past Joel, "not hungry."

Joel makes a sound of disbelief, "right."

She begins to rummage through the books just as Joel reads out some words to the baby girl in his arms. The baby girl can't even walk yet, so Ellie makes a face at the sight of them, wondering if this was even effective. She thinks maybe Joel was just bored out of his mind.

Ellie can't help but chuckle when the child takes the card from Joel's hand and accidentally pokes his eye with it. She whispers under her breath, "deserve."

Joel pulls his head back and grabs the card from the baby. He grunts, "you're worse than Sarah."

Ellie snorts as she continues looking for the recipe book.

The baby makes a much of sounds and Joel grumbles, "yeah, yeah, it's not your fault you have underdeveloped motorskills."

Ellie giggles as she finally spots the book, "are you arguing with a baby?"

Joel looks up to Ellie, "I'm having a civil conversation."

Ellie rolls her eyes as she laughs, "how's that going for you, grampa?"

Joel grumbles, just as the baby yawns, "uncle."

Ellie snorts at the fact she was corrected. She flips through the pages of the cook book, "whatever you say, uncle grandpa."

Joel stands from the floor, cradling the baby in his arms, "alright. Nap time it is then." He lets out old man sounds as he gets on his feet and is about to bring the baby to her crib, but stops when Ellie exclaims in excitement. He catches the cover of the book in her hands then asks, "you baking with her again?"

Ellie looks up from the page, watching Joel stroke the child's tiny back. She thinks for a moment then grins, "nah. Flip wants to make her an apple pie."

Joel makes a face, "flip what?"

Elle's eye narrows. Is he for real? "Flip!" She closes the book and raises an arm, "the sasquatch?! With the," she flexes her arms, "big man boobs and the," she flips her ponytail back, "luscious dark locks."

When she turns back to Joel, she catches how his face darkens in real time.

Ah, Flip.

She wanted so badly to scoff and egg him on, but then she thought that she would be giving herself away too much if she did. Instead, she clarifies with a no-duh tone, "Flip Zimmerman."

Joel clears his throat, "yea. I got it."

Ellie huffs through her nostrils and purses her lips. She dashes over to Joel, gently squeezing the baby's dangling leg, before running off and calling, "see ya on the flip side, Joel."

Joel lets out an annoyed chuckle, turning around, just to see Ellie shove her shoes on and run out of the door. He scoffs and looks at the baby, "who the fuck names their kid Flip?"

She doesn't give a crap what her uncle is saying and nuzzles against his neck.

Joel sighs, "ok, nap time for us then."

Joel looks up from the sheep pen when he hears a fit of giggles. He looks up and sees you and Abella carrying a large basket of vegetables, both of you had a hand on the handle.

He straightens up and wipes his hands on the back of his pants while the two of you huff and urge the other to walk faster because you feel the basket slipping. He is about to jump over the fence and jog up to you to help but then the sound of a loud scream from behind surprises him.

"CHEATERS!"

Joel looks out to whom shouted just as you do.

Flip fucking Zimmerman's arms strain through his muddy flannel.

The two women turn to each other and finally drop the basket once they're in front the storage house. They let out giddy, heavy breathes and high-five each other in accomplishment.

Joel feels like his insides warm at the sight. He feels like he's being torn from the inside. He thinks about the friendship between the two of you. He watches as you two lean on each other and laugh before pulling away. He watches as Abella beams, finding himself reminded by the fact it was so easy to be around her, so easy to love her. She was the type of person that lit up the room. It was undoubtedly the reason why you both were so taken with each other.

He watches as you look out to the approaching man.

You were, too, incredibly easy to be around. No fuss, no muss, just... just you.

He steps back and decides to busy himself with the sheep when Flip finally reaches the two of you.

"First of all," Flip huffs as he stops, "I take the fact y'all cheated cause you were too scared to be beaten by me as a compliment."

You roll your eyes and stick out your tongue. Abella giggles, covering her face.

"Second of all," Flip puts down the two large baskets of vegetables he hand in either hand, "y'all did me dirty by tripping me into the mud. Literally."

You and Abella speak at the same time, "we didn't trip you!"

Joel's ears perk. He sneaks a look. Well, you shudda.

Flip hums as he narrows his eyes, "right."

"It's literally not our fault--" you start. Your words go dry when Flip begins to undo the buttons of his shirt. Abella's jaw goes lax while you clench yours after Flip pries the caked-in-brown material off his torso.

Joel's eye twitches at the sight of the man undressing. He looks around and scoffs. He's two seconds away from storming over and telling him off. Doesn't Somersault know there are kids around?

Abella looks away and whistles. You rather unabashedly look down at his abdomen.

Flip furrows his brows, not doing much to conceal his shit eating grin, "what was that, baby momma?"

You lift your gaze to glare at him, "I told you to stop calling me that."

"Okay, wifey," he smiles.

Abella presses her lips together tightly.

"Unlike you I actually have a proper name, which you can call me by."

Abella holds back a giggle.

"Well why should I when it's so much more fun to call you mine," Flip leans forward, each tooth in his stupid head on full display. You cannot help the fact your body begins to prick with heat.

Joel stills when he sees this. His insides fume when he catches how close Rotate gets to your face. This man has no sense of decorum whatsoever.

Flip only turns away when there is a loud crash from a distance. Joel knocked over some metal buckets by accident and is now roughly setting them back up. When Flip turns back to you, Abella looks back and finally spots Joel. She smiles when she does. You, however, could only awkwardly shift in place, not knowing what to do or where to look.

Abella looks back at you and laughs at your stance. She looks at Flip and shakes her head, "I can't lie, that was pretty good."

Joel's brows furrow at her words. What's with the enabling?

Flip wipes his side with his shirt then throws it over his shoulder. You glare at Abella and she holds back a laugh. Flip looks to her and points, "you like that, do ya? Well you'll love this."

Flip pulls out a piece of paper from the back of his pocket and hands it to you. Abella watches in excitement as you apprehensively take the paper from him.

Will you make flowers and make apple pie with me?

▢ Y E S ▢ no

Abella watches as your begin to shift restlessly in your spot. She barely catches a glance of your paper before you say, "so," you look to Flip, "you never graduated high school, is that it?"

Joel hears this and scoffs out a chuckle. He shovels some dirt and thinks, probably didn't get passed elementary.

"There is a charm in the childish," Flip smiles, "also, no pressure, but I never got yeses way back when."

You bite your lower lip to conceal your smile. You fail, "damn. It would be wrong of me to break that tradition now.

Flip's breath hitches, muttering softly under his breath, "no, it really wouldn't."

Abella immediately knows what the note is after hearing that. She coos and clutches her chest, "a yes/no note?"

Joel scoffs and mutters as he shoves his shovel into the ground, "a fucking yes/no note?"

Flip wipes his lips with his fingers, "I didn't want to give you flowers and pie if you didn't want them."

Joel stops his shovelling.

"And I also thought it would be much more enjoyable to do these things if you were there," Flip adds, suddenly crossing his arms, making his chest muscles get smushed up, and clears his throat, "it's not at all because I wanted to know what flowers you liked nor because I don't want to accidentally poison you with my baking at all."

When you rub your face after hearing this, Abella takes a hint and looks away. She pretends she just spotted Joel, "oh my goodness, look, it's Joel!"

Joel nearly has a heart attack when he hears his name get called. He stiffens as he watches Abella jog over to him. Whatever semblance of calmness he feels from her smile is shattered when he catches you turning to him. His eyes lock with yours and his mouth goes dry. He clenches his jaw and offers a small smile, raising a hand.

The way your lips curve into the faintest of grins grates at his heart, especially when it breaks into a thin line and an eyeroll, one that you did in endearment. He watches you turn to Flip as he whispers something to you. You promptly attack him and pinch his arm violently for it, groaning but giggling at the same time.

Joel watches Invert recoil at the violence he so clearly merited for whatever the fuck he whispered. He only looks away when a hand is waved in front of his face.

"Earth to Joel," Abella pipes, finally earning his attention.

Joel looks at her and her pretty doe eyes, melting at the sight, "hi, honey."

Abella chuckles under her breath, "that's not the appropriate response to what I said at all, but I'll take it."

Joel sighs and shakes his head, turning back to his sheep, "I'm embarrassed to admit I didn't hear a word you said, sugar."

Abella's face flushes at the pet names. She levels her breathing as Joel turns back to her while he readies to shovel up some dirt again. Abella tilts her head, "I said they look cute, don't they?"

Joel's shovel skids on the ground as he scoops up some manure.

As if on cue, you laugh so hard it's impossible not to look to your direction. And Joel does it so instinctively. It's possible for Abella though. Her chest tightens as he watches Joel look your direction. She decides to look too in the end and finds herself smiling at how you and Flip were now chasing each other around as he threatens to get the mud his shirt on you. She cannot help the giggle that leaves her at the sight of Flip waving his shirt around as you evade him, careful not to hit the baskets on the ground.

Abella's expression falls when he hears Joel grumble to himself. She would not hear it well enough to distinguish the fact that Joel said, "fucking flipper."

Joel makes the mistake of looking the next instance you squeal. It was his mistake that he looked and found you wrapped in the arms of the beefy lunatic.

Abella catches how quickly he looks away after. She says, "you like her, don't you?"

Joel turns to Abella, leaning on the shovel, "what?"

She shrugs and shakes her head, "well if you don't think that," she points to side, "looks cute, then obviously you like her."

Joel watches as Abella leans on the pen and flares at the skewed reasoning. He tilts his head as his one eye twitches, "I don't have to think they look cute at all. It's none of my business what she does with him anyway. They can roll in mud for all I care."

"But you-" Abella quip but then chokes on her words.

Joel is increasingly annoyed, "but what?"

"But you like her," she blurts softly.

Joel clenches his jaw. He regurgitates a dark chuckle. His ears twitch at the sound of your laughter but he no longer makes the mistake of looking.

Abella knows what went on between the two of you, and she knows that was why Joel insisted on taking things slow. And by slow, they haven't even kissed yet. So what happens next takes her off guard.

Joel yanks his shovel out of the ground and walks over to her. He bends down to meet her lowered face and offers a smile. Once their eyes meet, he kisses her softly.

Abella's spirit leaves her when Joel's lips press against hers and his mustache tickles her skin. When they pull away, he rubs his nose against her as her breath hitches, "not like how I like you."

When Joel smiles at her, Abella feels like she could fly. She reaches out and caresses his cheeks lightly. When Joel closes his eyes, Abella's touch is not what he feels. She leans over the pen to give him a deep kiss and once they pull away, they're both breathless. Joel's eyes open and he feels a dread wash up in the face of Abella's beauty. But then she rubs her thumbs on his cheek and now he's actually smiling at her.

Abella watches Joel as he goes back to his work, a grin playing on his lips as he tried not to smile too big.

She was too taken by the kiss, too taken by him to realize the full meaning of his words, not how I like you. He didn't like Abella the way he liked you.

Joel's expression fades as his eyes roll to your direction against himself. It seems the baskets were stored away now, since they were no longer in sight and the two of you were walking off. Spin was still shirtless as ever. Joel watches his back muscle flex as he moved.

You snort as you shove Flip away. Flip lets himself topple to the side and walks back closer as he looks down on you and smiles. He pushes your hair away from your face as a breeze blows.

Joel wonders for a moment if you and him had ever been like this, laughing at the littlest things, annoying everyone, obviously smitten. And then he wonders about what he, himself, meant... not like how I like you.

Joel looks back at Abella, who very much melts at his gaze.

How did he like you?

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman #joel miller #flip zimmerman fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fic #the last of us fluff #joel miller smut #the last of us x reader

127 notes · View notes