Ride the Lightning | Thor x Reader
Summary: They say lightning never strike twice. Thor begs to differ.
Word count: 3.4K
Warnings: pure brain rotting smut with a little plot, size kink, oral sex (female receiving), face riding, couch sex, male ejaculation, creampied, shower sex. Mutual pinning if you squint. a bit shy/awkward reader (because w’re all a bit awkward talking to our crushes 🥲)
MINORS DNI | 18+ ONLY
A/N: y’all know I’ve been wanting to read some filthy ass size kink fic. Well, if you want something bad enough, you gotta write it yourself. Here it is in its pure filth. No beta, so I’m sorry!! Feedback & reblog just mean a lot and greatly appreciated if you enjoyed this.
*** do not copy, repost, rewrite, or translate my works !!
You could feel him eyeing you across the room.
Another sip from your wine glass and you turn and pretend to listen to Sam and Bucky because God helped you, you can’t meet his eyes at all. You could feel the heat slowly blooming at your cheeks while your heart was practically hammering against your chest.
“Are you alright, Y/N?” Sam asked you when he noticed that you were acting awfully suspicious.
“Please, don’t mind me. Just enjoying my wine. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.” you flashed him a sheepish smile.
Bucky tapped his shoulder and Sam turned in the direction and nodded in understanding. It was a known fact that you have had a crush on Thor for a while now, and almost everyone knows about it, well except that you didn’t know that everyone knew about it.
“Aren’t you driving tonight? Perhaps you should slow down,” Sam said as he carefully took your glass from your hand. “Chugging that in one go won’t do you any good.”
“Please, Sam. I’m a big girl. I can just walk back to my apartment.”
“First of all, you are tiny! Second, not a chance.”
“I can drive her back,” Scott came out of nowhere and plopped himself back next to Bucky. The other man grimaced, clearly annoyed that he didn’t understand what Sam was trying to do here.
“No,” Sam and Bucky said in unison, which Scott was taken aback by.
“Well, geez guys. Thanks.”
“What they meant to say is that Thor should walk Y/N back to her apartment,” Bruce stepped in.
“Why Thor and not me?” Scott was clearly offended, and it was so obvious that he was unaware of the situation as well. “What is so special about Thor?”
“What about me?” came Thor's deep baritone voice, standing there and towering practically over everyone.
“You should walk Y/N back to her apartment,” Sam said as a matter of factly.
“Agree,” Bucky concurred.
“Wait? Why him?” Scott asked, and Clint had to cover Scott's mouth with his hand before he leaned in and whispered something in his ears. Sam, Bucky, and Bruce all watched Scott’s face slowly morph into a knowing look. “Right. Ok, yeah, Thor! Be a gent and walk her home!”
“Ok,” he said suspiciously before downing the last of his drink, which barely gave him any buzz. “My lady?” He offered you a hand and you stared momentarily before you took it. All the guys were watching you with a knowing smile before you waved goodbye.
The walk was awkward to the point where you were no longer buzzing anymore. Thor was being Thor and was trying very hard to make small talk with you. Only for you to nod and smile because you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he was here with you.
Once you reached the apartment, you invited him inside out of politeness.
“It’s a bit small, but y’know, it’s enough for me.”
“I think it’s a fitting space for you,” he commented as he seated himself easily on your sofa. You watched the way his mass frame took up the space, and it made you swallow hard, imaging yourself on his lap and just–
“I saw you were staring at me at the party earlier. Care to tell me why?”
The question took you by surprise because he sounded genuinely curious.
“Uh….”
“You’ve been avoiding me since I got back? Did I unknowingly offend you?”
“No. Not at all. I–it’s literally nothing, Thor. I promise. Wine?” you chirped as you tried to make an escape to your wine rack, only to find yourself being pulled back by a very strong arm. You didn’t realize a man his size could move so quickly and so quietly, but here you were being spun and landed right in his chest.
Your heartbeat was practically drummed against your ears, almost deafening you as you stared up. He was so much larger and stronger. His scent filled your nostrils. He smelled so delicious that your mouth started to salivate.
“I know that kind of look, little dove, so either tell me or I’m forcing it out of you. And you know, I’m very good at the second one.” His eyes twinkled with a promise, and you had no doubt that he was capable of it.
You chewed on your lips and you watched the way his eyes seemed to darken like a stormy sky.
“Don’t tease me,” you said helplessly, knowing that your admission might ruin whatever little relationship you have with him. “But I like you.”
“You do?” he asked with a genuine smile. You could see a hint of red dust on his cheeks, and suddenly you understood why you have a crush on him in the first place. The man was like a golden retriever.
You nodded. “I don’t expect anything in return, so don't look at me weirdly…”
“Why would I ever look at a beautiful woman weirdly?”
Oh God, now he has done it. You could feel your breath leaving you. You forgot how charming he could be too. “You think I’m pretty?” you asked sheepishly. Your eyes suddenly couldn’t meet him.
“I think you are beautiful. Small, delicate, but capable. Every time I look at you, I just want to scoop you up in my arms and kiss you until I’m drunk.”
“Oh. Wow. Um,” you chuckled nervously. “You do?”
He nodded as he sat down on the sofa, his large hand was still holding you. “Yes. Like right now…” he said as he pulled you in until you were straddling him. “If you don’t want this, you can hop right off, and I shall return to the party. We can pretend like nothing ever happened.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’m all yours, little dove.”
You stared at him for a long moment before you leaned forward, your mouth covering his in a deep, hard kiss. His scent flooded your senses.
He groaned when he could feel you sitting atop the hard ridge of his erection. It was obvious that he was as ready as you are.
“Come here.” His voice was deep and husky, making your skin prick with goosebumps despite the warmness that radiated off of his body.
“Where?” you asked. Your voice was barely a whisper as you stared deep into his eyes, getting lost in them. If there ever was such a thing, his eyes were like fire in a bottomless ocean– the sort of passion trapped underneath a glacier that had frosted over millennia before, yet burned hotter than the sun.
“My mouth. It would please me greatly if you let me lap up all that sweet, decadence honey of yours.”
You wanted to moan out loud by the way he finished off his sentences with a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth. You hastily bunched up your dress and Thor helped you remove your panties. You forced yourself up slowly before you knelt astride his head; one knee on the edge of the couch while the other on the armrest of the sofa, spreading yourself out wide, giving him a clear view of your glistening pussy.
His large, calloused hands slid up your thighs, and his breath fanned over your needy cunt, making you shudder slightly. Thor slowly squeezed your ass, causing you to whimper softly.
And then he started to lick you in a long and deliberate lap. His hand was kneading the back of your thighs as he settled into a feast, gliding his tongue along your list before he pushed into the folds, dipping inside you in shallow penetrations.
You couldn’t help but clutched the back of the sofa as you tried very hard to hold onto whatever was left of your sanity. Your legs shook slightly, almost wavering by the weight of the profound pleasure. You found yourself rocking your hips into his mouth, relishing the way his beard grazed against your inner thighs.
He would concentrate on that one spot that made you strain and cry out before he returned to stroke across your slit back and forth. He kept on doing this until your legs began to shake.
“Do not come,” he warned. His deep rumbling voice seemed to send a tremor right through your throbbing pussy as he gave your ass another squeeze.
You whimpered at that. How could he demand such a thing from you when he was so good at this?!
“I want to be inside you when you come,” he said before he gave your pussy another long, tantalizing lick. His nose brushed against your clit, and it made your thighs twitch a little.
“Please hurry,” you whined before you removed yourself from his mouth.
This earned a disapproving grunt from him.
“So impatient,” he said before he hastily removed his pants. He was long and thick like you’ve always suspected. Dark blond hair dusted the hard plane of his stomach all the way down. His cock arched up to his stomach. The pink, fat tip of his cock was already glistening as beads of precum leaked out of the slit.
He was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve been with, and it made your mouth salivate. You know he was going to fuck your brain out and rearrange your inside.
You swallowed hard as your palm slowly wrapped around him. Thor turned and looked at you with half-hooded eyes.
“Look how tiny your hand is. You can barely wrap your hand around me,” he said, biting his lower lips. “How is your cunt going to fit me, huh?” he asked.
“We’ll find out,” you said as he slowly pumped his shaft up and down. Your eyes are still glued on him, watching the way he inhaled through his nose. Thor spread his muscular thighs apart, giving you more room.
You hummed at the obvious invitation. Clearly, Thor wanted you to do as you please. He was willing to be used by you, and that just made your pussy throb even more.
A low, animalistic growl rumbled in his chest as his palm slid down to your ass. You could feel the tip of his digits prodding at your entrance while the other was holding the base of his cock, slowly tapping the head against your cheek, urging you to open up.
You glared before your tongue darted out to lick the slit. His eyes gleamed as he grinned. A soft hiss slipped past your lips when he plunged his two fingers inside you.
“So tight for me, little dove. Are you sure you can fit me?” he asked again, but he didn’t let you answer. Instead, Thor grabbed the back of your head and shoved the fat tip right into your mouth. You could only answer with a muffled moan. “Your mouth can barely fit my cock. Come now, you can do better than this. Relax your jaw for me,” he mumbled as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you.
Thor would praise you when you moaned into his dick. The vibration pleased him greatly that he had to stop himself from thinking about fucking your mouth. He needed to hold out because he wanted to fuck that sweet cunt of yours, so dripping and so warm. He could see himself staying there and burying himself till the morning came.
“Alright, little dove. Let's see if you can in fact fit me,” he mumbled before he gently pulled your mouth off of him. His eyes glimmered at the way your drool was dripping down your chin, and the way you wet his shaft so nicely.
You moved to straddle him again while he lined the head of his cock near your entrance. With both hands on his broad shoulders, you slowly sank down onto him, taking him inches by inches. You winced at the way he stretched you out. It felt like you were swallowing fire, only for it to feel like a never-ending mix of pleasure and pain.
Thor sucked in his breath. His hands were clutching the armrest for dear life as you swallowed him slowly. Every part of him felt like being choked and squeezed to the limit. He tried his hardest to not plunge into you then and there, splitting you open till he filled you up with his cum.
You could feel the way his muscles strained and corded at the effort of sitting still. He knew if he moved too soon, he would risk making you come too soon.
You bit your lips as you continued to glide slowly up and down his long shaft. He filled you too full and too much that was hard to even think. Your brain is filled with nothing but the feel of being stuffed by his cock. His heat and his hardness took your breath away every time you sank all the way down until your ass hit his thighs; the head of his cock struck deep, and the sound that slipped from your lips was nothing you ever thought you were capable of: raw and needy.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, hands stroking your thighs as his back arched, pushing his muscular chest against yours. You mewled at the way your hard nipples brushed against his hard chest. His calloused hands were still on your ass, holding you and guiding you when your movement got too clumsy.
Occasionally, he would help lift you up when your thighs gave out, sheathing you all the way down before lifting you up again with little effort.
“Shh, it’s ok,” he cooed when your thighs gave out entirely. Your body slumped forward, legs shaking. His rough fingers stroked your spine, murmuring sweet nothing. “I’ll give it to you. Let me take care of you, little dove.”
Thor lifted you up as he pushed his hips upward, stroking you with breathless thrust. His name slipped from your lips as you buried your face in his neck. Fire and pleasure licked your inside every time he hit that one spot again, making your breath hitched in your throat.
He lowered you again before lifting you up, fucking you upward into your greedy hole. The squelching sounds filled the room along with your panting and mewling. His chest rose and fell against your breasts, eliciting a new kind of pleasure.
“How’s that feel?” he panted as he held your hips in place. He could feel you close to falling apart in his arms as he began thrusting with determination. He was relentless, withdrawing himself all the way out before plunging balls deep inside you.
“So good, baby. So fucking good,” you sobbed. You tried very hard to hold on to his shoulders–just something to brace yourself for the slap of his hips against yours. He felt too good and you were more than ready to be ripped apart by your orgasms and Thor could feel it too.
“Come for me, sweet dove,” he spoke through his gritted teeth as he brutally thrust into you as he wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you flushed against his body. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”
You came with a loud shout. Your body spasmed as rapture ripped through you with a white-hot release. The rippling wave of your orgasms washed over you. Your pussy was practically squeezing his thick cock, milking him till he couldn’t help but moan.
Thor was still fucking you, using you so he could reach his own release too. He easily flipped you over. His large body covered yours while he drove his hips in and out of you with vigor. Each thrust sent your body forward while you laid there, too paralyzed from the afterglow of your orgasms.
Thor hauled your legs upward, hands pulling you back to meet his thrust. He was so impossibly deep that every time he pulled back, no noise came out of you.
His lips pulled back into a snarl. His nostrils flared, and fingers dug into your skin as his release exploded, filling you up with nothing but his sticky, white cum. His body strained above you as he crushed you to his chest. If you weren’t too cock drunk already, you could have sworn you heard a crack of thunder outside.
You didn’t know how long both of you stayed there. The soft panting and heavy breathing filled the silence as the rain began to slowly pour outside. Perspiration dampened his forehead. His golden lock stuck to his neck and he pulled back to look at you. Adoration filled his gaze as his lips moved to brush against your cheeks.
You were still warm and feverish from one hell of orgasm he just gave you. “I’m scared if you pull out now,” you mumbled, nuzzling his neck. You could feel his dick soften inside you.
Thor chuckled. “Why so?”
“Well, you did come inside me…and like you came a lot, Thor.”
“And?”
“This couch is very expensive…if you pull out now, your cum will get everywhere. Like everywhere.”
Thor chuckled. “You are so strange, little dove. Fine, if that’s worrying you, we shall go wash up.”
You barely have time to ask him when he easily picks you up, his dick still inside you while he easily walks to your bathroom. His larger form dwarfed everything inside your apartment.
With one arm still wrapped around you, Thor turned on the shower. You moaned at the way the hot water felt against your skin. Slowly, he set you down and the moment he pulled out, you winced at the way his cum was dripping down your inner thighs. You shuddered slightly.
“Holy shit, Thor,” you mumbled as you looked up, he only flashed you a charming smile. His large hand was on the nape of your neck before he leaned in and kissed you. He was so soft and so gentle, a duality from earlier love-making sessions.
You could feel his cock slowly getting hard again, and your palm mindless found him once more.
“You’re going to kill me with your appetite,” you mumbled as he stroked him. Thor rested his chin on your head. You could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his cock slowly came to life once again.
“Killing you is the last thing on my mind,” he murmured before he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his taut waist. Thor pressed your back against the shower wall as he slowly ground his hips against your aching cunt. Every part of you came alive as fire flowed in your veins.
Once again, you found your pussy throbbing and pulsating when he just filled you up not too long ago. The hot water didn’t help either when all you wanted was to be fucked hard and rough.
You and Thor moaned in unison when he entered you swiftly, thrusting inside you with intent. He wasn’t being careful anymore as he crushed you against his large body. You were groaning with desperation as your arms wrapped around his neck. Incoherent moaning filled the bathroom as hot water splashed against his back. It wasn’t long till Thor pulled another orgasm out of you, making you slump in his arms. You felt spent and weak.
“Please, I can’t,” you pleaded with him. Thor only kissed your neck once more before he pulled himself out. “You killed me, Thor. How am I going to function now?”
“Please, this is just the beginning, little dove. I’m just getting started,” he winked and you knew you were in for a long weekend with the God of Thunder.
Meanwhile, at the party, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce clang their beer together with a knowing smile on their faces as another lightning struck out in the far distant sky. Scott once again was the only one that was oblivious.
“They fucked didn’t they?” Clint asked as he stared out at the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was practically pouring outside. The other three men nodded before taking another swig of their beer. “Good for them,” Clint said before he took a sip of his own drink. “Good for them.”
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I just had a Crazy thought. Idk if I’ve EVER read a Ton Riddle x ftm Reader before and now I’m CURIOUS. Pls (^ν^)
yk, i dont think i’ve ever seen one either 🤨 which is some BULLSHIT if you ask me
ANYWAYS i have no idea what this is but yk i actually finished something so that’s pretty girlypop. also GODDAMNIT i need more tom using 40s slang
phoenix tears (chapter three of phoenix tears) — 40s! tom riddle x ftm! dumbass! granger! reader
he’s babygirl i don’t make the rules
problem solving by creating more problems, a case study by harry potter and y/n fr
glad to see all of the ftms have found my acc, i love all of y’all mwah
TWs: ‘40s era homophobia; couple of outdated homophobic slurs; i guess tom misgendering reader? but he like, doesn’t even know what being trans is so-
requests? please? i beg??
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“What’s this?” You pulled a wrinkled old book out of Harry’s trunk, sitting down on the wood floor of his dorm, crisscross applesauce.
The cover must’ve once been very fine leather, but it was now warped with water damage and age. The pages were brittle and seemed liable to disintegrate at the lightest touch. But the most prominent part of the book was that there was a charred black hole right through the center.
“Huh? Oh- Tom Riddle’s diary. His very first horcrux,” Harry glanced up at you from where he was also sat on the floor, desperately trying to organize all of the shit that was in his trunk to begin with.
“Is it dangerous?”
“Nope, not in the slightest.”
You opened the cover, the leather creaking and cracking under the slightest pressure. You were surprised to find that the diary was completely blank inside. You flipped through a few more pages; nothing. It was totally empty.
Unless Tom Riddle had only written in the center of where the odd, charred hole was. Which was, y’know, pretty unlikely.
“How’d you destroy it?”
Harry frowned to himself, trying to decide if Runes homework from two years ago should go in the keep or throw away pile. “Basilisk fang. Has Ginny seriously never told you?”
You shook your head, eyes wide. He grinned at you, handing you a stack of various important-looking documents mixed in with past homework assignments to go through, and immediately dove into his story of shallow teachers and secret chambers and blood on the walls.
You gaped at him in awe as he finished his story. “But wait- if Fawkes’ tears were all you needed to like…heal and not die, would the same work on the diary?”
Harry paused, looking up at you. “That’s…a good question.”
“Think we should try?” You asked. “Maybe Teenager Tom could talk some sense into Adult Tom?”
Harry seemed to genuinely consider it before shaking his head. “Ach, but Hermione would kill us.”
Your shoulders dropped and you frowned as you think about your sister. “But…she’s at the Burrow tonight, remember?”
“Well,” Harry said slowly, still on the fence. “If Hermione’s not around to scold us...”
~~~
“This was a terrible idea this was such a terrible fucking idea-”
The diary smoked and hissed, writhing around on the floor. The book flapped open, the pages ruffling around and fizzing.
Scrambling backwards, you clung onto Harry, praying Slughorn wouldn’t walk in. Or worse, Filch.
You’d snuck into the Potions classroom after curfew, hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak, with the intent of finding phoenix tears. After going through Slughorn’s potion cabinet, you'd found the vial all the way in the back. Which, of course, had led to you two deciding to test your theory about the diary right then and there.
The diary suddenly made a pop noise, like someone cracking bubblegum. It then stilled all of its movement, lying open at the center of the book, when a dark liquid, ink, began seeping out from it. The ink pooled around the book, turning all of the pages black and heavy.
You mentally cursed the stain it would leave on the flagstones.
The diary then erupted with a bright light, rattling against the floor with the exertion of whatever magic it was using.
Harry pushed you back behind him, forcing you to sit down and throwing his invisibility cloak over you, then pulling out his wand. Taking an offensive stance in front of where you were hidden, he waited, every muscle in his body coiled like an animal waiting to lunge.
The light seemed to grow thicker, like honey, and started taking a corporeal form. Then just like that, the light vanished, and the form���a person, by the looks of it—crumpled on the floor in a rather undignified heap.
The person staggered to its- his feet.
Tom Riddle, you thought, holding your breath.
God, he was pretty.
He started laughing, seemingly unaware of neither you nor Harry’s existence. “O Lord and butter, now we’re cooking with gas!”
You blinked. All of that was English, but not a single word of it made sense.
How old was Tom Riddle?
Harry took a tentative step forward, hiding his wand behind his back. “Are…you alright?”
Tom whirled around, startled by the sudden voice. He looked Harry up and down appraisingly before a wild grin spread across his face. “All reet? A schnook done brought me back!” He laughed rather maniacally, eyes gleaming. “What’s your name then? I oughtta thank you.”
Harry’s lips thinned. “We’ve met before, Tom.”
Tom’s eyebrows raised. “We…have?”
Wordlessly, Harry pushed up his fringe.
Tom drew in a sharp breath. “Potter.”
“Riddle.”
“So what, you’ve brought me back to kill me again?” He sneered. “There’s no basilisk around to save you this time, Potter.”
When Tom took a step towards Harry, you gasped quietly—evidently not quietly enough though, because Tom’s head swung around towards you.
He stared straight at you. You held your breath again, praying that he’d go back to threatening Harry, or something.
Instead Tom stepped closer to you, mumbling a quiet Revelio. He smiled and leaned down, tugging the cloak off of your head.
“Well well well, what’s this? A spook?” He pulled the cloak off of you completely, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Hm. Well aren’t you a bit of a scrag, cookie?”
“I’m…sorry…?” You questioned, baffled. “I don’t speak old.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a bit plain and homely, doll,” he said with a mock-apologetic look on his face. “In the nicest way possible.”
“Aw, shucks,” you said dryly. “I was worried the genocidal maniac who’s killed a bunch of our friends might think I’m unattractive.”
He raised an eyebrow at your sarcasm, looking you up and down again. “Ah. Or are you a swish?” He asked, tilting his head. “Can’t quite tell.”
“A swish?”
“You know, a queer. One of those.”
You cringed. “Harry, make him go back in the fucking diary.”
“Did I hit a nerve, doll?” Tom asked with a smug smile.
“Not really, but I have a feeling that if I have to deal with your ancient ass any longer, you will.”
“Ooh, well ain’t you got moxie, little thing? Tell me, you a dame or a fella?”
“Ah yes, the two genders,” you mumbled under your breath, causing Harry to snort and cover his mouth with his hand. “I’m a uh…‘fella’.”
“You sure look like a gal to me.”
“Yeah, and you sure look like an asshole to me.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. You’re a mudblood, aren’t you?”
“Lot of sass coming from Mr. Pureblood over here.”
Tom took a striding step towards you, his teeth gritted and his fist raised.
“Wow, resorting to Muggle fighting? Wouldn’t expect that from you, Thomas Marvolo.”
His cheeks flared red with anger. “I oughtta-”
“It really sucks being made fun of for your blood status, doesn’t it?” You asked casually.
Tom paused.
He took a step back.
“All reet. I’ll admit, you got me there.”
Harry scowled. “Look, we wouldn’t have brought you back unless we had good reason. And Old You is now indiscriminately killing Muggles, which seems like a pretty fucking good reason, if you ask me.”
“Ah. Yes. That does seem to be an issue,” Tom acquiesced. “But why me?”
“We figured you could reason with Old You?” You jumped in. “Or at the very least, you’re the least corrupted; you have the most soul left.”
Tom shrewdly glanced between you and Harry, then back at you. “What do I get in return?”
You shrugged. “I dunno. What do you want?”
“Not to go back into that damned diary,” he said vehemently. “Never again.”
You glanced over at Harry. He shrugged. “We can try…?”
“Hipper dipper,” Tom replied dryly. “Where do we start?”
~~~
“Well that’s a barney old game the old coot’s been making you play, huh?”
“You’re just saying words,” Harry mumbled, resting his chin on his hand as you all sat at one of the Potions classroom tables. “Not a single part of that was comprehensible.”
“He basically just said that you’re fucked,” you shrugged. “You’ve been doomed to die since you were born. Dumbledore’s been raising you like a lamb for slaughter.”
Tom looked at you, surprised. “Well…yes.”
You rolled your eyes. “Smarter than I look, Thomas.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I’ll stop as soon as you you stop calling me a fairy.”
He furrowed his brow. “Why’s that bother you so much?”
“It’s a fucking slur, Thomas. This ain’t the forties, or whenever you’re from; people are allowed to be gay now.”
Tom froze, eyes wide. “W-what?”
“Yup.”
“Well, cut off my leg and call me shorty,” he murmured, amazed.
“Wait’ll he finds out you’re trans,” Harry mumbled, snorting.
You elbowed him in the side, rolling your eyes.
“Trans…?” Tom questioned.
“We don’t have that much time, Thomas. Focus up.”
“Natch, all reet,” he shook his head. “Are we ready then? Plan all set?”
You nodded, a sly grin spreading across your face.
“Let’s go fuck some shit up.”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
chapter four
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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader
after - part thirty-two
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3
crossing the river of death puts you in a precarious position.
a/n: I HAVE RETURNED LOOK AT ME GO. y’all aren’t read for the end of this chapter, or what’s around the corner!! thank you all for such a warm welcome back 🤍
word count: 7.1k
warnings: y’all know the drill. no smut here.
✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨
You find a better rhythm. With a direction in mind, you find it easier to pull your feet through the snow, your eyes trained on the back of Joel’s head. Ellie hovers somewhere in the middle of you two, her eyes downcast, refusing to look at you. Not that you blame her.
She has every right to be pissed at you, snapping at her like that. You know she was just concerned about Joel, and by extension, concerned about what would happen to the two of you if he was gone. But it was like she had reached into your heart, yanked out your worst fear, and thrown it in your face.
Because you’re fucking worried about him.
The cold still bites. The soup left a lingering warmth in your bones, but it has since faded away, leaving you just as chilled as you were before. Your feet hurt, your back aches, every scar on your body seems to thump with every step you take.
There’s something to be said for the landscape. The snow-capped mountains and deep valleys. You’ve yet to reach the River of Death, but you find stretches of land that aren’t coated in white, and your feet are eternally grateful.
After a good few hours of walking, Joel calls you to stop and hands you the rifle, disappearing around a tree. You and Ellie sit in awkward silence for a few moments, but your mouth won’t stay shut.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you like that,” you say, stepping closer to her and nudging her with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way I just…” You trail off, looking in the direction Joel went.
“You’re worried about him,” she finishes, something way too wise in her voice for a fourteen-year-old.
“More worried than I’ve ever been,” you reply, digging your hands into the pockets of your coat. “He’s not okay, and I don’t know how to fix it, and when you asked if he was dying I…” You trail off again, unable to finish that sentence. “He’s the only reason I’m alive, Ellie,” you tell her, eyes stinging, “and I mean that in every sense.”
For a moment, you consider telling her. We’re not so different, you and I. You consider showing her the bite, telling her that you get it, that in a way, you understand what she’s going through and what she’s been through. The curious part of you wonders if she’d give you her own story, if she’d tell you what happened, but the protective part of you doesn’t want to know, doesn’t think you could stomach it.
“You two are fucked up,” she tells you before you can open your mouth again, “but like, in a good way?”
You bark a laugh despite the tears crawling up your throat. “Thanks, kid.”
Joel reappears, his brow furrowed, hand curling around your elbow when he’s close enough, leaning in to drop a kiss at your temple. Ellie makes a retching noise and he rolls his eyes at her. “Let’s go.”
And you fall back into the rhythm once more.
+
Whatever rift had formed between you and Ellie, Joel can see that it’s gone as he steps around the trees, watching you two for a moment, just talking. He can’t hear what you’re saying, though the expression on his face makes him think you’re about to cry. But before he can barrel forward and jump to your rescue, you laugh, a genuine smile on your face, and for a moment, he lets himself bask in it, forgetting everything he’s feeling, everything he’s carrying.
He can still remember the first time he made you smile.
The first day he walked into the hardware store. He was struck dumb the moment he rounded the aisle and saw you standing there. Made an absolute fool of himself, tripping over his words as he asked you for a drill bit, anxiety twisting his gut when he realized you didn’t have a name tag or anything confirming you actually worked there. But you’d indulged him, assuring him you did in fact work there and helping him find what he was looking for before turning on your heel and giving him an eyeful of your ass as you walked away.
It was when he walked up to the cash. He stumbled his way through another conversation, asking you if you were new to Austin, that he hadn’t seen before. And he knew he’d have remembered you. Yours wasn’t a face he would be forgetting anytime soon.
And you smiled as you answered, your eyes flicking from his to the cash register to the drill bit he was purchasing. It was an easy smile, relaxed, just simple conversation to you. But it was the kind of smile that reached your eyes, making them crinkle at the edges, making his heart riot around in his throat.
Joel had no idea back then that he was falling in love with you on the spot, but looking back, it’s easy to see.
You had him — hook, line, and sinker — the moment you smiled.
Now, he just needs to get close to you. He grabs your elbow as soon as he’s able, pulling you against him. Your warmth envelops him like a blanket, a comfort, and he kisses your temple, inhales the scent of you. You all smell awful, granted, but it’s still there, that thread of you beneath the dirt and blood and grime.
Ellie fake-gags and he rolls his eyes. “Let’s go.”
You walk side-by-side for a while, your hand wrapped in his, covering his bad side as always. Ellie walks ahead of the two of you, boots trudging through the snow, dead rabbit dangling from her backpack. You have your new bat propped against your shoulder, careful of the barbed wire, and despite that persistent ache in his chest, he grins.
You catch him, your brow lifting in question, but he can see the shake of your lips, the blue lining the edge of them. You’re freezing. “What?”
“Nothin’,” he replies, a slight shake of his head. “You just look all badass, carryin’ that scary bat of yours.”
Your grin is bigger than his, holding the thing out in front of you. “It’s not a perfect replacement, but I’ll make it work.”
Joel squeezes your hand. “Damn right, you will.”
The sun has hidden itself behind the mountains by the time you come upon the river. The air has gotten colder and Joel can hear your teeth chattering.
“The River of Death!” Ellie declares, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Scary.”
Joel sighs as you all come to a stop, looking down at the river below. “Don’t start.” He pulls you close, tucks you under his arm, trying to give you some of his warmth. “It’s too close to dark, and we need to get warm. There’s some caves along the river; we’ll set up camp there, cross in the mornin’.”
He looks down at you, and you just nod, burying your face in his coat.
“Good,” Ellie agrees. “I’m starving.”
“Me too,” you say, voice muffled by the leather.
“Should’ve stolen two rabbits,” she continues and Joel shakes his head.
“We can get our own rabbits.”
“You gonna teach me how?” the kid asks, perking up at the mere thought.
Joel gives her a long stare, inhaling deeply, feeling your hand press against his back. “Just keep movin’.”
She sighs and turns on her heel, starting to walk away.
“It’s not a bad idea,” you say, peeking your face up at Joel. Your lips are almost bright blue and worry lances through him. “She knows how to shoot, she might as well know how to hunt. I should know too, y’know, in case—” You cut yourself short, eyes flaring with the unsaid words, but Ellie’s voice rings out in his head.
If you’re dead, we’re fucked.
“Come on,” he mutters, forcing himself to ignore the wheeze in his breath. “We need to get you warm.”
+
Joel picks a cave not far from the bridge that’ll take you across the river, but it’s far enough out that you’re out of sight, and he deems it safe enough to build a fire. Which you’re now sat in front of, as close as you can get without burning the ends of your hair, both sleeping bags wrapped around your shoulders. Joel made coffee and sat beside you for a good hour, rubbing his hands over your shoulders, trying to help you get warm. He only got up when the fire started to die, in search of more wood to add.
Now, he’s sat beside you, rummaging through your bag or his, you can’t be sure. You watch as he produces the roll of duct tape you’d found in the watchtower, sliding one foot in front of him as he tries to find the end of the tape. Once he does, he wraps his boot three times over, bites the edge to tear it off before smoothing the end into place.
He catches you staring as he presses down on the tape. “What is it, baby?”
You shake your head, not realizing how rapt you’d been, watching his movements. “Nothing. Just…should have tried to find boots for you before we…” You trail off, rolling your lips together. “M’sorry, is all.”
“Liv, you don’t need to be sorry,” he tells you, tossing the tape back into the bag and sliding across the ground, closer to you. “You scoured every inch of that store; I watched you do it.” He reaches down, raps his hand against the side of the boot. “They’re still intact, mostly. I can still walk. It’s fine, okay? You don’t need to be sorry.”
He wraps his arm around your sleeping bag-covered shoulders and tucks you under his arm. You sink into his warmth, the feeling finally returning to your fingers and toes. You feel him shuffle slightly, reaching into his coat, and then something silver is pushed under your nose.
“Think this’ll help warm you up?” Joel asks, and your eyes nearly bug out of your skull when you see the flask in his hand.
“Where’d you find that?” you nearly gasp, snatching it from him. You shake it slightly, feeling the slosh of liquid inside. “It’s full?”
“Nicked it from the old folks,” he admits, giving you a boyish grin that momentarily eases the worry you’re still holding onto. “Saw a few other bottles tucked away in there, they won’t miss it.”
“Joel Miller, you thief.”
His eyes are shining as he unscrews the cap, taking a quick whiff before tipping the flask up to his lips. He actually makes a face, features pinching in a scowl, and you laugh. “That’s strong.”
“Good,” you say, taking the flask as he offers it. “Then it’ll definitely keep me warm.”
He’s not wrong. The liquor burns on the way down, nearly making you cough up a lung like some college girl doing shots of tequila. But once you get one sip down, the warmth spreads through you from the inside, and you take another.
When you go for a third, Joel stops you. “Easy, tiger,” he laughs, closing the flask. “We gotta ration this shit even more than those coffee beans.”
“Good point.”
You sink back against him, warm inside and out now. Your eyes snag on his duct-taped boots and there’s a pang in your chest, but you push it away. You’ll get across the river in the morning and you’ll find something. You’ll be damned if you let him walk another day in those boots.
You can almost feel yourself dozing off against Joel’s chest when an awestruck woah! fills your ears. You glance up, spotting Ellie atop the rock she’d climbed up as soon as you’d made camp. The protective part of you wanted to bark at her to get her ass back down on solid ground, but you let her go. And now, you can see you were right to do so.
She has an obstructed view of the sky overhead. The darkness shimmers with streaks of green, the Northern Lights dancing across the stretch of black, dotted with stars. The fire crackles in front of you and Joel tosses another thick branch onto it, wrapping his arm around your waist as you adjust yourselves.
It’s Joel that interrupts Ellie’s sky-gazing, and the protective part of you is thrilled that he does. He gives a whistle and she turns, wide-eyed. “Come down from there,” he calls. “You’re gonna break your neck.”
She turns back, face tilted back up to the sky, and for a moment, you think she’ll pull the defiant teenager act and tell him to go to hell, but she doesn’t. You hear her boots touch down a moment later, snow crunching on impact, and she rounds the rock, coming to the fire and taking a seat across from the pair of you.
Joel shuffles and your eyes catch the silver glint of the flask. “What happened to rationing?” you mumble, chuckling as he tilts it to his mouth.
Ellie doesn’t miss a beat. “Can I have some?”
He shakes his head as he hands you the flask. “No.”
“What? Just to warm up,” she protests, her eyes sliding to you as you take a sip and try not to wince. “C’mon.”
You can hear Joel start to form the second no, but you beat him to it, screwing the lid on and tossing it at her. She’s beaming as she catches the flask, opening the lid and giving you both a little salute before taking a sip.
Her dramatic cringe makes you laugh and you can feel a chuckle rumble through Joel.
“Yep,” she declares, her face screwed up as she reaches across to hand the flask back to Joel. “Still gross.”
“Still?” you ask, lifting a brow.
Her eyes go wide as she looks at you. “I mean…ew.”
You bark a laugh, taking another sip after Joel. You’re suitably warmed, you decide, as the liquor slides down your throat. “Well, whatever you had before, I hope it was better than that.”
It’s silent for a moment as you all settle back. You can feel Ellie’s eyes on you from across the fire as Joel moves his arm up to your shoulders, rubbing his hand up and down your bicep.
“You okay, kid?”
“Yeah,” she starts, looking down at her lap. “Yeah, I was just…You’d be a really cool mom, Liv.”
You’re not expecting her admission, and it manages to hit you like a ton of bricks. Your body goes nearly rigid and you feel Joel tense beside you, like he’s waiting for something.
Ellie gives you a soft smile and you school your face neutral, not wanting to give away the way your mind is spinning.
“Thanks, Ellie.”
Her eyes turn back to the fire and you feel Joel’s lips near your ear. Your mind is going a million miles a minute, blood thumping through your ears. All you can think about is Emily and Henry, Sarah, the kids you’ve held so dear to your heart all these years. You’d make a cool mom.
Yeah, you like to think you would have.
And the fierce girl sitting across the fire from you, who’s managed to worm her way into your heart, hearing her say it out loud? It’s a punch to the gut, in a good way.
“You okay?” Joel murmurs, the words barely above a whisper. You nod slightly, leaning your head against his, your hand reaching out to cover his knee, palm rubbing at his jeans.
“So I’ve been thinking,” Ellie says, her voice cutting through the crackle of the fire. “Let’s say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.”
Your brow furrows slightly as you draw your legs up to your chest, still huddled against Joel. You can hear the question in his voice when he says, “Okay?”
“Then what?” she asks. “Like, what do we do?”
“Oh, it’s we?” Joel quips, and you smack his chest, lifting your head slightly to shoot him a glare.
Ellie rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine, whatever, you two then. You can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?”
You sit up fully, your eyes staying on Joel. You want to hear his answer.
“It’s never been an option,” he says, meeting your gaze, clearing his throat. You can see him searching for the words, but his eyes don’t leave your face as he gives his answer. “Maybe…an old farmhouse, some land, a ranch.”
Your brows lift. It’s not the answer you’re expecting, but it paints a picture in your mind all the same. A vivid one.
“Cool,” Ellie says, a smile in her voice. “What kind?”
“Sheep,” he says, and your brows shoot up. “I would raise sheep. They’re quiet, do what they’re told.”
There’s a point to his comment and you roll your eyes, turning your head to look at Ellie, who chuckles. “Yeah, yeah, okay. So, just you and Liv and a bunch of sheep. Sounds romantic.” She reaches over and pokes you in the arm. “You’re down with the sheep ranch?”
You scoff a little laugh, turning back to Joel. He’s still looking at you, his eyes glittering in the firelight. “I go where he goes,” you say with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter to me. Sheep, pigs, chickens, whatever. I always liked horses.”
Joel pulls you back to his side, fingers curling around your wrist and tugging you against him. You go willingly, glad to be enveloped in his warmth again, slinging your arm around his waist.
“And what about you?” he asks Ellie over your head. “Where are you gonna go?”
Her face goes almost wistful as she looks up at the sky, the stars and the full moon and the glimmer of the Northern Lights. “It’s probably because I grew up in the QZ,” she starts. “Behind you, there’s ocean, and ahead of you, there’s a wall. Nowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favourite is?”
The passion in her eyes is infectious.
“Sally Ride,” Joel answers almost instantly and your brow twitches.
“Sally fuckin’ Ride!” Ellie repeats, triumphant. “Best astronaut name ever.”
But then she catches herself. You watch it happen, see the passion and excitement give way to something solemn and heavy.
“It’ll work, right? The vaccine?”
How this kid has managed to bowl you over with her words twice in the space of ten minutes is beyond you.
“It’s a little late to start wonderin’,” Joel grumbles, and if you weren’t stuck still, you’d smack him.
“I tried, with Sam,” Ellie admits, and your breath whooshes out of your lungs. After she told you, back in the hotel bathroom in Kansas City, you never told Joel. You weren’t actively trying to keep it from him, it just…
“Tried what?” Joel asks.
Her eyes shoot to you for a moment before she answers. “I knew he was Infected. I rubbed some of my blood into his bite.” You hear Joel’s sharp inhale and Ellie’s eyes flutter close, shaking her head against his impending anger. “I know, I know, it was stupid, but…I wanted to save him.”
Joel’s gripping your shoulder so tight you can feel every finger and you snake your hand up his coat, pressing your own fingers to his ribs. “Well, I reckon it’s a lot more complicated than that,” he tells her, his voice almost soft, and something in you swells at the thread of comfort in his tone. “Marlene, she’s a lot of things, but…she’s no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.”
The mention of her name makes you bristle, but you play it off, ducking your head against Joel’s side. Silence settles over the camp for a moment, only the sound of the crackling fire and the wildlife echoing through the night.
You can’t tell if Ellie’s pleased with Joel’s answer or not, but she changes the subject. “I can take a watch tonight, if you guys both wanna get some shuteye.”
Joel shakes his head, his chin rubbing over the crown of your hair. “I’ll take both. Get some sleep.” He pauses as she gets to her feet, and you follow suit, grabbing the rifle from where it’s propped against the rock you’ve been leaning on. “Dream of…sheep ranches on the moon.”
Ellie nods, and you see the corner of her mouth twitch. “I will.”
She disappears into the cave where you’d set up the sleeping bags and Joel grunts as he straightens, taking the rifle when you offer it. “And what should I dream about?”
You see the question sink in, his features twisting from hard to soft in a split second. Joel slings the rifle onto his shoulder and reaches up, curling his fingers in the collar of your sweatshirt, pulling you into him. “Baby, you should dream about a ranch too,” he tells you, leaning in until your nose nudges his. “Maybe not on the moon, but a ranch. Somewhere quiet, safe, warm.” He drops his jaw, giving you a soft kiss. Soft, but urgent, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. “Big ol’ bed upstairs, so I can have you whenever I want and not fuck up my knees.”
You bark a laugh against his mouth, kissing him again, hooking a finger into his belt. “Something tells me you’ll be too busy with your sheep.”
“Nuh-uh,” he protests, shaking his head, nose brushing yours. “Never too busy for my wife.”
You roll your eyes, lifting up on your toes as you wrap your arms around his neck, another kiss pressed to his mouth. It’s deeper, more demanding on your end, though you know it’s not the place or the time. The picture in your mind grows more and more vivid as you let your mind run with it, allowing yourself to feel like it’s a possibility.
If it works.
When you finally come up for air, Joel sinks back half a step, his lips swollen, and for half a second, you feel like that young girl in the hardware store, absolutely rabid for the man before you, stealing kisses in the alleyway. “Liv,” he says.
“Joel, are you—” you say at the same time, cutting each other off. Your unfinished question hangs in the air and you wonder if the worry you just tried to chase away, tried to bury under his musings of the future, is plain as day on your face.
You don’t wait long enough to tell, reaching up to rub your thumb across his bottom lip before turning on your heel and heading for the cage, calling over your shoulder to him, “Wake me for second watch.”
+
It’s not Joel that wakes you, but a bleary-eyed Ellie. She has the rifle in her hand, and as you blink sleep away, you can see that the sky is starting to brighten. What time…?
“Joel fell asleep,” she tells you as you sit up, rubbing a hand over your face. Sure enough, you look over, and Joel is sprawled on the floor at the mouth of the cave, head propped on your backpack. “I’ve been up a couple hours,” she continues, talking around a yawn, “but I don’t know how long he’s been out for.”
As silently as possible, you get to your feet, taking the rifle from Ellie. “Go lay down,” you tell her, slinging the gun over your shoulder. “I’ve slept long enough.”
She nods, brushing past you as you head for the cave’s entrance. You crouch near Joel, put a gentle hand on his chest, just to make sure he’s still breathing. He mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep, heart thumping against your palm, and it’s proof enough.
You rebuild the fire as you wait out the morning, the quiet sounds of the forest surrounding you. The rush of the river is faint from where you’re camped, and the sun tries to peek out around the clouds, the sky overcast again.
Maybe an hour later, Ellie re-emerges, sleeping bag wrapped around her shoulders, and parks herself next to you beside the fire. “Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, and she just grumbles, tilting her head onto your shoulder. You’re sat with the rifle between your knees, boots propped in the dirt, and you let yourself get lost in the flicker of the fire, the crackle of the logs, the far-off birdsong that makes the whole world seem less…bleak.
Every so often, Joel makes a noise, and your eyes dart over to where he’s laid out on the ground. “Still mumbling in his sleep,” Ellie whispers. Your jaw goes tight with every sound, ears perking to see if you can make it out, if he’s having a nightmare or a panic attack or—
There’s a scuffling sound, and he shoots upright, gasping.
“Liv!”
Ellie startles beside you with a quiet groan, and you get to your feet, leaving the rifle in her lap as you walk toward the cave. “I’m here, Joel,” you call, crouching before him, taking in his confused expression, the panic in his eyes. “Hey, we’re okay. Ellie woke up early and you were asleep. You never woke me up, so she took second watch and I took third.” You grab his wrist, pressing your fingers hard against his pulse. “Everything’s okay.”
He looks over your shoulder, his eyes going wide, and points at Ellie with the hand you’re not holding. “You gotta wake me up if that happens,” he scolds, pulling away from you and getting to his feet. You follow suit, putting yourself between the two of them. “You can’t do things like this, Ellie.”
“But I can,” she throws back, “and I did. You needed the sleep.”
Joel goes rigid, his jaw tight, looking at you, but you just lift a shoulder.
“I’m responsible for you,” he says, looking back at Ellie, then back at you. “Both of you.”
“Then don’t fall asleep,” Ellie retorts. “I was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks, I found the high ground, and I kept watch. When I got too tired, I woke Liv up. Just like you taught me.” Pride swells in your chest and you bite back your grin. “What can I say, man? I’m a natural.”
You nearly sputter out a laugh, but Joel’s dry-as-all-hell uh-huh makes the noise die in your throat as he snatches the rifle from Ellie. They’re both quiet as he slings it over his shoulder, Ellie giving you a sideways glance, but then Joel gives her a nod, and you know it’s the closest thing she’s gonna get to an attagirl.
“You wake me up next time,” he tells her, his brow hard, but it’s with concern, not anger. “Or Liv. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Ellie says, giving him a smug smile.
You cross your arms over your chest, watching them a moment longer before, “If you two are done, can we pack up and get this show on the road?” Joel grumbles at you as you brush past, but you just lean up on your toes as you do, brushing a kiss across his mouth. “Good morning.”
“Mornin’,” he mumbles, and returns your kiss with his own.
+
It’s starting to snow as the bridge that will take you across the River of Death comes into view. Joel’s had you keep to the trees, and the warning shot he makes with the rifle makes your ears ring, but sends a flock of geese into the sky, their honking sure to rouse any other creatures nearby.
You wait a few minutes and…nothing.
“The River of Death,” Ellie muses, “and still no people.”
“Fine,” Joel sighs, and steps out of the tree line, the rifle still raised, ready to shoot if the need arises. You and Ellie follow him down the snowbank, and into the thicker copse of trees that leads toward the bridge. It’s oddly pretty, in a way. The wrought iron beams blanketed with snow, the trees that have started to encroach on the metal. It doesn’t so much as creak as you step onto it, the only sound is the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots.
Ellie keeps looking back over her shoulder, and you nudge her with your elbow after the third time. “We’re good,” you tell her, trying to be reassuring, and she just nods.
“I know.”
You make it across the bridge with no incident, but you’re the first to admit that the air feels different this side of the river. Still just as cold and biting as before, but…
You have no idea what’s coming.
It’s just as much walking, though you’re glad for the flatter stretch of land ahead of you.
Joel and Ellie only keep up their comedy from the morning; at least it helps pass the time.
It starts with Ellie making some strange breathing sound. You ignore the first squeak, but when she keeps it up, you shoot her a look. “I’m learning how to whistle,” she tells you, thumb and middle finger jammed either side of her mouth.
“You don’t know how to whistle?” Joel asks, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.
“Does it sound like I know how to whistle?” Ellie throws back.
“…no,” comes Joel’s response, and you toss your head back and laugh.
She keeps doing it, blowing around her fingers, clearly annoyed. “Seriously though, how the fuck do you do that?”
“Talent,” he answers.
Ellie rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”
When she looks at you, though, you lift your hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me, I can’t do it either. Not like that, anyway.”
A bit more walking, and Ellie has put herself at the front of the pack, walking backwards as she talks to you. Well, more to Joel.
“You should teach me how to hunt.”
“Huh,” is all he gives her.
“Huh,” she repeats, dropping her voice, “like, she’s a girl, she can’t handle it.”
“You can handle the shootin’,” he tells her, speeding up to walk past her. “Not so sure about the dressin’.”
“What’s the dressin’?” she asks, and you can’t hide the way your gut rolls as a memory bubbles up.
“The part where you take the guts out.”
“Oh yeah,” Ellie breezes, so nonchalant. “Why do they call it dressing? It’s like, they should call it undressing, cuz it is, it’s like undressing from the inside.”
“Can we talk about something else please?” you shout, squeezing your eyes shut to hide your nausea. When you open them again, Joel’s looking at you, the corner of his lips twitching. “Joel, please.”
“What?” Ellie asks, looking between the two of you. “What, what is it?”
“We used to go huntin’ out near Lincoln,” Joel says, and you groan, stomping your way past them, but not going out of earshot. “Nothin’ big, just rabbits, turkeys, that sort of thing. Bill liked rabbits, and after we got back, we skinned ‘em and dressed ‘em and hung ‘em up in the garage, but forgot to tell Liv that we had.”
“Oh, gross,” Ellie cries, and you whirl.
“Not just hung up in the garage, Joel Miller, you tell the whole story.” He’s pressing his lips together, trying not to laugh, and you’re trying not to punch him. “Tell her how you left the fuckin’ bucket of guts in there, too, and then asked me to go find a wrench or something and that’s the first thing I see.”
“I think that’s the loudest I ever heard you scream, baby,” he says, chuckling around the words. “All honesty, my first thought was an Infected had gotten inside somehow, even though I knew it was next to impossible at Bill and Frank’s. I go tearing in there and she’s flat on her ass, that bucket of guts is everywhere, and she’s got her hands over her face, refusing to open her eyes.”
“I tripped,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest. “Which could have been easily avoided if you’d just told me there were dead animals strung up in there!”
“Oh, baby,” he croons, closing the distance between you and hooking his arm around your neck, dragging you into him. “You’re not really still mad about that, are ya?”
You roll your eyes, ignoring him and looking at Ellie. “I still can’t look at rabbits the same way. That one we took the other day gave me nightmares.”
Ellie just laughs.
Joel presses a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth and you shove at him halfheartedly. Their giggles subside and you keep on, following the river until you find yourselves standing over a—
“Dam.”
You scoff, nudging Ellie’s shoulder. “You’re just full of the puns today, aren’t you?”
“Eh, she’s no Will Livingston,” Joel says, referencing the joke book that’s been your comic relief many a night since she’d first pulled out the puns.
“Yeah, but who is?” she grins, then juts her chin toward the dam, the rushing water below. “So that thing made electricity?”
“Yeah,” Joel answers, but starts to turn away as he continues, “but don’t ask me. I don’t have a clue.”
Her eyes shift to you and you bark a laugh. “He doesn’t know, and you think I do?”
“You know, you could’ve just made something up!” she laughs, and the pair of you follow after Joel. “I would have believed you.”
You keep walking, find yourself following another river, and you’re revelling in the feeling of the sun on the back of your neck, honest-to-god warmth on your skin despite the chill in the air.
“Look at that river; it’s crazy blue.”
Ellie trails behind a little and you tap Joel’s back to get him to stop, turning back to her. “El, what is it?”
She’s stopped in place, boots planted in the snow, staring out at the water. “What if this is the River of Death? What if the other one was just…”
Joel’s brow goes hard as he pulls out the map, staring down at it as he turns slightly, angling your steps in a slightly different direction. You tug on Ellie’s sleeve, trying to get her to follow when the sound of horses fills your ears.
They’ve over the ridge in an instant, hoofbeats thudding against the snow, kicking up sprays behind them. Ellie reaches for your hand and you grab her, positioning yourself in front of her as Joel steps in front of you, trying to find an opening as the horses and their riders surround you from all sides.
“Stay behind me,” Joel grits over his shoulder at you and you look to Ellie, lifting a brow. She nods in understanding and you do your best to ignore the twist in your stomach. They have guns, you realize. All of them. Pointed at you. “Put your hands in the air,” he says, and you listen, motioning for Ellie to do the same.
The wind howls, but even it’s not loud enough to cover up the thunder of your heartbeat in your ears.
“We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble,” Joel calls out, his tone placating. “We’re just passin’ through.”
“Drop the gun,” one of the riders calls and your breath stalls as Joel does as the man says, pulling the rifle from his shoulder and setting it down in the snow. “You,” the same rider calls, his eyes pinned on Ellie, “take five steps back.”
She stares at you, fear making her eyes big and wet and you almost drop your hands while Joel tries to reason. “How ‘bout we just talk this through?”
“How about you shut the fuck up?” the rider throws back. He has his gun trained on Joel, and the one to the left of him has one trained on you.
“Okay, easy,” Joel responds, and turns slightly, looking past you at Ellie. “You’ll be okay.”
She moves back slowly, and every step she takes feels like a punch in your gut.
“You been near Infected?” the rider calls.
“There’s no Infected out here,” you respond, finding your voice somewhere amidst your terror.
“The hell there ain’t,” the rider says, shaking his head. He whistles, the sound loud and sharp, and a dog starts barking in response. Your heart has now climbed into your throat as one of the other men leads the dog forward. “Last chance for a bullet. If you’ve been Infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.” The dog keeps barking, and your head is a mess of noise, your heartbeat and the barking and Joel’s you’ll be okay playing on a loop. If that thing gets close to either of you, you or Ellie, then—
It stops barking as soon as the man unclips the leash, and heads for Joel first. You’re holding your breath, frozen in place, as the dog sniffs at Joel’s boots. It jumps up, plants its front legs on his waist, cocks its head to the side as it looks at him. Joel’s just looking at the riders, and you’re grateful he’s not looking your way.
Apparently satisfied, the dog jumps down from Joel and turns tail, heading back to the man with the leash. “Like I said,” Joel says, “we’ll just move on.”
But the rider isn’t having it. “Now her,” he says, pointing the gun at Ellie.
It takes everything in you not to throw yourself in front of her. Joel looks at Ellie, then you, panic blooming in his eyes as the dog starts padding toward her. At the last second, it veers off, coming toward you instead, and the scar on your side seems to throb in response.
The dog sniffs at your boots the same way it had Joel’s, jumps up and puts a paw on your stomach as it sniffs more. You keep your eyes trained ahead, refusing to look at either of them until the dog drops down at heads for Ellie.
It barks once, and then Ellie starts to giggle.
You turn to look, your frozen state melting away, and find the dog licking her face, Ellie laughing away as she pets the dog. The man whistles again and the dog darts off. Ellie gets to her feet, and you try to angle yourself in front of her again, swallowing back the anxiety that just ripped through you.
“You just bought yourself ten more seconds,” the rider says, his gun now pointed at you. Somehow you feel more at ease with a gun trained on you than you did with the Infected-sniffing dog. “What are you doin’ out here?”
“I’m just lookin’ for my brother,” Joel calls back. “That’s all, nothin’ more.”
One of the riders toward the back of the circle, a dark-skinned woman with a mask covering half her face, cowboy hat on her head, nudges her horse forward, moving past the interrogating rider. The horse trots up until there’s only a few feet between it and Joel, before she pulls on the reins to stop it.
“What’s your name?” she asks, her eyes darting between you and Joel.
“Joel,” he responds, turns slightly and gestures to you, “and my wife, Liv.”
She juts her chin in Ellie’s direction. “And the girl?”
“My niece,” you say instantly, the lie spilling out before you can stop it. You hold your hand back toward Ellie and when she takes it, your heartbeat slows.
The woman slides from her horse, coming to stand in front of Joel. “I think you three need to come with us.”
+
They give you horses. Joel takes one, you the other, and Ellie slips into the saddle behind you, her arms tight around your waist as you ride. It’s been years since you’ve ridden a horse, but the beast beneath you seems friendly enough, and responds nicely when you dig your heels in, trying to keep up with the rest of the riders.
Soon enough, the high walls of Jackson come into view. It must be thirty, maybe forty feet tall, thick logs standing upright in the snow, patrols walking the top, spotlights currently turned off but still visible. When you get close enough, one of the riders waves a bright green bandana in the air, and the gate swings inward as you approach.
You tug on the reins, slowing your horse to a trot as you pass through. Ellie tightens her grip around your waist, her cheek pressed between your shoulders, and you suck in a breath, unsure what to make of the small town that lies within the high walls.
It’s everything the QZ never was. The storefronts look like something out of a Western movie, but it works. There are people everywhere you look, and they look…healthy. Well-fed. There’s not a beaten face to be seen. Back in Boston, you couldn’t go a block without seeing someone sporting a black eye or broken limb, FEDRA’s doing or the Fireflies. But here…it’s different. It’s all different.
There are snowmen lining the streets, kids laughing and playing, but some of them stop as the crowd of horses makes its way through. Joel trails behind you some, and you still don’t know where to look, when you hear him shout.
“Tommy!”
Sure enough, there he is. Your brother-in-law stands atop metal scaffolding, helping another man hoist a beam. He sees Joel, and then you, his eyes darting between and locking on his brother as he nearly leaps down the scaffolding steps. Joel gets off the horse, passing the reins to another rider, and you follow suit, scrambling down as gracefully as you can and handing the reins to Ellie, who takes them with wide eyes.
The Miller brothers meet in the middle of the road, Joel crushing his little brother in a hug, and tears spring into your eyes as you see Tommy start laughing, hugging Joel just as tight.
“What the fuck you doin’ here?” Tommy asks, still beaming as you step up to Joel’s side. “Liv!”
He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug that you return enthusiastically. The tears fall down your cheeks as he pulls back, touching a glove-covered hand to your cheek.
“You really let this fucker drag you halfway across the country?”
“We came here to save you,” you admit, and Joel lets out a wet laugh, his lashes clumped with tears as he claps his brother on the shoulder and pulls him back in for another hug. You step back slightly, letting them have their moment. As you look back at Ellie, who’s still perched atop the horse, something catches your eye across the snow-covered street.
“Cowan?”
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