#joel miller imagines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heartpascal · 1 month

Text

i was born waiting

▹— joel miller x daughter!reader

▹— summary: you’ve been looking for your dad for as long as you can remember, is this really him?

▹— a/n: hi! i started writing this september ‘23, so it has. it’s been a WHILE. so if this seems jumpy / not consistent then that is why! sorry!!! i have done my best!!!

▹— warnings: canon-typical violence and themes, weapons, parental death, witnessing parental death, aka insane amounts of trauma, death in general, she/her pronouns, reader is biologically related to joel but no mentions of appearance, no mention of her bio mother’s appearance either, fantasising about being dead (sorry), all hurt zero comfort, attempted murder, unrealistic expectations of someone you never met — please let me know if ive missed anything!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything), @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being @hqkon

MASTERLIST

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

There are certain things from your childhood that you can remember vividly. Though, really, childhood is a bit of a stretch, isn’t it? It’s hard to find the right word to encompass the way you had grown up, because you didn’t have much of a chance to actually grow.

From the moment you had been born, your life was a battle of staying alive to see another day.

That’s not to say that your mother didn’t do her best for you, obviously. But it was hard to raise a child as a child in the midst of a global apocalypse. You were bound to end up the way you did — moulded and hardened by the world around you, by having to pick up a gun at seven years old and use it to protect your mother. By never putting that gun back down.

For the past few years, you had known your mother was suffering. The world had been anything but kind to her, and age was hitting her harder than she had expected. More than the physical aspect, you knew it had been destroying her, the fact that you were now the one protecting her and not the other way around.

But what choice did you have? Her aging body had left her fragile, prone to falling and breaking even more frail bones. You could see the strain on her muscles, as they slowly decayed and shrunk, until they were barely there at all. You couldn’t let her carry the burden for you anymore, because you knew her body couldn’t handle it.

You had been preparing yourself for that moment, though. Making sure that you were ready, that you were strong enough for the both of you, strong enough to shoulder the burden she had been carrying for years.

When you were growing up, your mother had told you tales of your father.

She had told you all about how strong he had been, how he had been the best man she had ever known. She told you how he had cared for his daughter before you, how he had been the best father to that girl. When you were old enough to comprehend these things, you’d asked what had happened to him. “Is dad dead?” You had asked her, watching the way her face fell.

“I don’t know, honey. I hope not.” She had responded, smiling sadly at you, and patting her hand against your cheek.

It was hard for you to let go of that.

The uncertainty had haunted you for the rest of your life since that very moment, leaving you wondering for hours at a time where he could possibly be, why he would ever leave your mother to carry this responsibility alone. And in your more selfish moments, you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t here to care for you as he had his daughter before you.

For a long time, you had convinced yourself that he was dead, despite what your mother hoped. And sure, you felt that loss, something like mourning weighing you down, but it was the only way you felt you could accept his absence. He had to be dead, because otherwise, why wasn’t he here?

But as you grew up, getting taller, stronger, you felt like you could rationalise his absence even if he wasn’t dead. After all, the apocalypse wasn’t exactly family friendly. You figured that if your mother didn’t know whether or not your dad was alive, that the same could go for him. He might just think that you and your mom died, years ago. After all, how many pregnant women survived the end of the world?

You have a feeling that the answer would have to be not many.

So, really, you and your mother being alive by now was nothing short of a miracle. It was a testament to your mother’s strength, her ability. She had succeeded where so many others had failed, and she had managed to keep both herself and you alive.

It’s a bitter kind of irony that you can’t do the same.

The last dredges of autumn fall away, leading into the coldest and harshest part of the year. Winter is hard — it’s full to the brim with fresh Infected, the ones not yet frozen solid, and resources are more scarce than ever. And this winter feels like something tangible, something which sends unending waves of dread through you.

Your mother gets weaker by the day, spending more time resting than moving, and you spend as much time as you can keeping her warm, finding food and water and pain relief for her broken arm that didn’t heal right. She’s exhausted, you can see it in her face, in her every movement. And you’re pretty sure it’s not just from the lack of rest. She watches you with dulled eyes, something like heartbreak reflecting in them.

For a long time, you pretend not to notice.

You pretend that you don’t see the way she lags behind, just watching you move away from her with speed she can’t quite manage any longer. You pretend that you don’t see the way she hesitates before taking her painkillers, or her food, or the last sip of water.

This year, the winter brings something worse than the cold. A bug, spreading across the state in a way that was familiar to so many. Not quite the Infection, but still able to take out people with ease.

When your mother catches it, you physically felt your heart clench in your chest. You felt it squeezing all of the blood around your body so quickly that you became dizzy with it. There’s a panic so deep that you can’t climb your way out of it. For days, weeks, you’re certain that you’ve lost her. That after everything, everything you’ve done, everything the two of you have been through, a cold would be the end of it all.

But then, she gets better.

The little strength she had before the sickness returns to her, bringing some colour back to her skin, some ease back to her breathing.

Religion wasn’t a thing in the apocalypse. Not really. But if you had believed in God, you would’ve thanked every one that might’ve existed for giving you this. This miracle. This small mercy.

The two of you are in an abandoned barn when it happens.

You’re dozing away, not quite asleep, but not awake either, when you hear the sound of old hay crunching underneath boots. If you weren’t so familiar with the lightness of your mother’s footsteps, you might’ve passed it off as her wandering. But these boots are heavy. They’re purposeful.

The gun in your hand means nothing when you jerk upwards, eyes snapping open and squinting through the light let into the barn by the rising winter sun. It’s an image that has since been ingrained into the back of your skull, replaying each time you close your eyes.

There, right in front of you, is your mother.

Behind her, a man, a gun pressed to the back of her skull.

Your stomach lurched suddenly in that moment, the small rationed dinner you had before dozing off trying to rise to the back of your throat, trying to race the rapid beating of your heart to see which would kill you first.

“Put down the gun.” He said, voice cold, throat dry from the winter air. The sound of his voice is printed in the base of your brain, echoing every time things around you still, go quiet.

He could be bluffing, you thought in the moment. His gun could be unloaded. It didn’t take you long to notice that the safety was off, but in those few moments, he had pressed the end of it harder into your mother’s head. You dropped the gun to the floor without another moment of thought.

You were nauseous, waiting to wake up, to realise this was all some twisted nightmare.

But you could see a look in your mother’s eyes. Acceptance. Defeat. It was almost familiar to you, so closely related to the look she had been giving you for months.

All this time, she had just been waiting to die. Waiting for something to come along and kill her off, to free you from having to take care of her. She knew that if it was up to you, that you would look after her for the rest of your goddamn life. If she lived any longer, she might just live long enough to see you die.

“Slide it over.”

You barely registered the cold pinch of metal against your palm as you pushed the gun away from you, sending it skittering over the rough ground and into the side of an old hay bale.

“Now your pack.”

There was a numbness to you as you gripped the backpack you had been leaning against, and chucked it towards where he stood behind your mother. It hit the front of his boot, but his eyes didn’t stray from where he stared at you.

“Turn around.”

You stared at him, teeth gritted together.

“No.”

There was a beat where both him and your mother just watched you. And then the surprise flickered across his face, apparently not expecting any resistance from you.

“Turn. Around.” He told you, firmer this time.

“No.”

“Okay then,” He relented, after a moment of consideration. His eyes drifted down towards your mother, who stared forwards at you. “This your daughter?” He asked, jerking his head towards you despite knowing your mother couldn’t see the movement.

“Yes, she is,” Your mother said, voice shaking, her breath clouding in front of her face as it reached the cold air. “Please, just let her be.”

He hummed, dropping his free hand down to rest heavily on your mother’s shoulder, his fingers clamping around it and not helping the way she trembled.

“So, your momma, huh?” He asked you, a smirk drawing up his face, showing smile lines around his murky blue eyes. His hair rustled in the wind, a piece falling down across his forehead. He stared at you, and you stared at him, not daring to say a word, still hoping that this whole thing was a dream. Muscles in his cheek twitched, pulling his skin taut and showing a scar across his left cheekbone. “Good.”

There was a moment where the sound didn’t register. A moment where you didn’t even realise it was your mother when the body slumped forwards. A mere moment where you didn’t think about it being her blood that splattered across your face.

The moments after that though, become blurry, hazed over, and you’re not sure it actually ever hit you that the body before you was your mother.

You’ve always had a hard time remembering that bodies were once people, that they once had lives and loved ones and thoughts and feelings. That they weren’t just bodies. So seeing her like that, as a body, not her, was wrong on so many levels. It didn’t feel real. Nothing did.

You heard the second gunshot, just a moment later, followed by a snickering laugh that you would never forget, before the pain bloomed in you.

It was buried by the shock, the complete disbelief, and you only felt the pain for mere seconds.

His gun — the one that killed your mother — was whacked across the side of your head a moment after, and that was the end of that.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Three months passed by, judging by the way the seasons turned, and you were on your own.

It was a strange feeling, really. Throughout the entirety of your life, you had never actually been alone. At least, not really. Your mother was always a small ways away, a mere shout from running to you. There had never been any true distance between the two of you until that day.

A sort of ache claws your throat each day, when you realise that it’s easier like this.

The only back you have to watch is your own, the only life you have to worry about belongs to you, and you have nothing to lose in this world. There was no terrible outcome if you were caught. Nobody else would be hurt, or suffer because of it. And you’re less likely to be caught now, when you don’t have your mother slowing you down. You don’t have to stop for the frequent rest breaks she needed, you can try to outrun Infected without worrying about someone lagging behind, and you only have yourself to feed.

If your mother had known how much easier survival was when alone, you hope that she would’ve abandoned you at birth. Because perhaps, without the burden of you upon her shoulders, she wouldn’t have fallen apart so quickly.

Sometimes, you like to think of a world where she was spared all of this. Never pregnant with you, for a start. So when the infection broke out, she would’ve only had herself to worry about. You think that maybe, one day, she would’ve been able to reunite with your father. If she hadn’t been carrying a child, she would’ve been able to manage the journey to where she believed him to be. You look at the picture that had been in the pocket of her coat for your whole life, the papers folded and clipped to the back of it, one word underlined: Boston.

You had reached a store in the weeks after that day, and when you found a map, it wasn’t difficult to notice that the direction the two of you had been heading in was to that very city.

It’s a long shot. More than a long shot, really, but you find yourself continuing in that direction regardless. You don’t know what you hope to find in Boston, whether it was your dad, or the man who had killed your mother, or perhaps just somewhere to take shelter for a while. You try not to hope for anything. You try not to focus on the fact that you might not even make it that far.

It keeps you up for days.

The uncertainty of it. The unknown. The fact that you’re walking your way to a city you know nothing about, almost certain that your mother’s killer was already there, and more than that, consumed by a fever that might kill you regardless of the where the journey took you.

The only sleep you get results in fever dreams, rippling, warping images that make your perception falter, feeling all too real until you notice that it’s not. And when you do wake up from them, it’s as if you haven’t slept at all. An exhaustion weighs heavily upon you, and your shoulders hunch over with it. There’s almost nothing you wouldn’t do to get rid of that endless feeling.

You hope—or wish, maybe— that if you reach Boston, the journey there will have tired you out so much that your body will have no choice but to rest. It’s a distant thought in your mind, though. You’re almost certain you won’t make it that far, because if the fever doesn’t get you, surely the Infected will.

It’s not as though you’re trying to get killed. But there is a kind of peace that comes with the thought. There’s an idea of rest behind it, hiding within the shadowy depths that make you scared. Would not having to fight in order to survive really be so terrible? You have this image in mind, of a never ending blackness, a void, somewhere that your thoughts and worries can just fizzle away. The small part of your fever-fried brain that has retained its rationality reminds you of the unknown. It reminds you that death could be worse than this.

You don’t like the thought. Not after that day. It’s a shuddering feeling, wondering if your mother is in some kind of unreachable hell.

By the time you’re even close to Boston, a few hours out at most, you’re out of ammo in the gun you’d found along the way. Out of food rations. No knife, no resources. You’re barely standing on two legs, kept up by the adrenaline, the knowledge alone that you’re this close.

When the tall walls of the QZ finally come into view, you start to feel some amount of hope. Which is a dangerous thing, but especially in a situation as dire as your own. You couldn’t afford any adrenaline fading, couldn’t afford to lose your cautious nature. You couldn’t make a mistake. One wrong move, one slight misstep, and you’d be as dead as your mother. Or worse, infected. Though this close to a QZ, you had some amount of relief at the knowledge that they should’ve cleared out any nearby infected. Runners, and clickers alike.

Your steps don’t falter for a moment. Partly because of your worry about the fever taking you out, but mostly because you’re certain that the FEDRA guards on watch on top of the wall will have spotted you, and you don’t want them to think you’re Infected, just because of your sickly appearance, and shoot on sight. Though, with FEDRA’s track record, it wouldn’t surprise you if they just shot you down regardless.

For a while, you’re not sure if you’re even awake, or if perhaps you were stuck in yet another fever dream. Everything felt so real and so not real simultaneously, it felt impossible to believe that you had actually made it.

Soldiers met you on your approach, calling out for you to get on the ground with your hands up. You called back some sort of response as you did so, practically collapsing to your knees and squeezing your eyes shut at the pain that followed. But despite all of it, despite the pain and the rough hands that grabbed you and pulled you forwards, through the gates and straight into a building, you had made it to Boston.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was maybe three weeks into being a resident of the Boston QZ that you caught wind of him for the first time. Or, at the very least, somebody who might be him. You didn’t know how common the surname Miller was, being a child of the apocalypse, but you kind of hoped the answer was uncommon.

“Goddamn Miller, again.” A man had muttered as you walked through the trading market. You paused almost instantly, pretending to peruse the feeble amount of clothes a woman had to trade. “Said we gotta go through him and Tess if we want anything, as if we gotta listen to them.” He practically spat out, glaring around as he spoke to the woman beside him.

“They’re the most well established smugglers in the whole goddamn QZ. Don’t have to tell you how, do I?” She asked, sounding more annoyed with her companion than she was with whoever Miller and Tess were. “Joel is as nasty as they come, Darren. Don’t get on the wrong side of him.”

Your heart practically stuttered to a stop in your chest, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing. Could it possibly be a coincidence? Could there be another Joel Miller? One who wasn’t your father? Sure, it was possible. Plausible, even, considering the fact that you had absolutely no idea if he was here. Not any concrete idea, anyway. Your mother had believed as much, but who was to say she was right?

Besides, whoever this Joel Miller was didn’t sound like the man your mother had told you about. As nasty as they come didn’t have any relation to the heroic and kind and amazing father and man your mother always spoke about. Though, you knew as well as anyone what the apocalypse could do to people.

Darren didn’t say anything else to his companion. So, after a few more moments, you continued on your way, making the journey to the tiny box apartment that FEDRA had elected to you.

But even as you got there, sitting down on the poor excuse of a mattress, you couldn’t shake the conversation out of your mind. After everything you had been through to get here, what was it all for? Could you really make this journey and just never try to find Joel Miller? Your father? You could still remember the anxiety that had come when you first arrived, when you were strapped into a chair and scanned for the fungus that had taken over so many. You didn’t know what you were more scared of: the idea that it would flash red, and you’d be killed, or the idea that it would be clear, and you’d be sent out into the QZ, where you may just find the other half of your DNA.

You don’t even know if you want to find out anything about him. Don’t know if you could face that, especially after losing your mother. That’s been the hardest thing since being here, since having your own place, the fact that you’ve gotten it all without her. It feels… empty. For your whole life, she had been there at your side, making every short stay at whatever accommodation you could find feel like home.

Plus, even if you did consider trying to find him, and if it was him those people were talking about, then who the hell was Tess? What if she got upset at your appearance, your claim as Joel Miller’s surviving child? You’re not sure you can lose another parent.

Sure — Joel Miller wasn’t exactly your dad, he couldn’t be classed as a parent in the way that your mother was, but if you never met him, that could’ve been for any number of reasons. He could be dead. He could’ve thought you and your mother were dead, all these years. You didn’t want to face a reality where you met him, and he wasn’t present for you and your mother because he didn’t want to be. You’d rather live your whole life thinking him six feet under, than know he was out there, and just didn’t care about you.

The more you think about it, the more certain you are that Boston was a mistake.

It would all be different if your mother was alive. If she had brought you here, if she had been the one to hear the chatter about Joel Miller, if she had been the one to seek him out. But she was dead, and the only living connection you had to Joel was, too. Hypothetically, if you did seek him out, you didn’t know enough about him to prove your claim as his child, and without your mother, how could you make him believe you?

They had been a family, once. They being Joel, your mother, and your deceased half sister. You’d heard the tale of how Joel and your mother had met, of how it took months for him to finally feel comfortable introducing her to his little girl. Hell, you had heard almost as much about Sarah as you had about Joel. Your mother had certainly adored his daughter, and you’re somewhat sure that they had planned to have you, despite Sarah already being a teenager.

You don’t want to have to mourn a family you had never actually had. Perhaps, Joel and Sarah were out there, living their lives certain that you and your mother were dead, just as you and your mother had done.

Not that any of this even mattered — you didn’t even know for sure if it was the same Joel Miller! And even if it was, it’s not like Boston QZ was small. There’s absolutely no chance you run into the man who might just be your dad. No way.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You find someone else, before you hear anything more about Joel Miller, and it immediately sends the thought of your biological dad to the very back of your mind.

After all, it’s not every day you see the man who murdered your mother.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise. You had guessed that this was the place he was heading, all those moons ago. But to actually see him, here, in the flesh, alive and well despite all of the pain and heartache and devastation he had caused you? It was surreal. You had to practically pinch your skin from your body to make yourself believe he was real.

And it only really hits you now, that this man killed your mother. You had been so focused on surviving, on living to see another day, on healing and moving and getting away from her body, buried in shallow dirt outside of some abandoned barn. You can vividly remember the strength it had taken to pry the frozen dirt from the ground.

Sure, you had felt the guilt over it, the guilt over the ease that came with surviving without her, guilt over your very existence, but you’re not sure you had ever actually grieved over her. Not sure if you had ever let yourself be sad, be angry, be anything about what had happened.

But now, seeing him, you feel… almost too much.

All of the rage and grief you had squashed in favour of surviving another day, all of the sadness and fear, all of it. It all comes rushing towards you at once, hitting you in the chest, winding you. You gasp for breath on the street, ducking away for a moment, gripping your chest like you could physically hold your heart steady.

When you look back out at the street, you see him as he nears the corner. Panic grips you at the thought of losing him, of never seeing him again, of failing to avenge your mother. You follow after him before you can think better of it.

It’s strangely easy. You fall back into the life of a hunter like it’s the most natural thing you’ve ever known — and maybe it is. You’re healed up, by now, or about as healed as anybody gets in this world, and your shoulder only bothers you when you move it too much. Even with that, you’re pretty sure that you could take the man on. Now that you’re not hazy with sleep, caught off guard, held back by any sort of earthly tether.

You’re strong. And despite FEDRA’s harsh reign, their dire consequences for rule-breaking, you have a switchblade stuffed into your shoe. You could do it. You could kill him.

There’s no question about it in your mind, especially as you follow him from a distance, and he remains none the wiser. He takes a left, and a moment later, so do you. He’s clueless. It’s almost painful that he was the one who managed to get the jump on you. How could you have let this man kill your mother?

He skids to a stop outside of a doorway, so you slide down the wall of the building opposite and listen. He pays you no mind as he knocks twice on the door.

“What d’you want, Colin?” The man who opened the door asked gruffly, seemingly inconvenienced by the man. He sounded tired, or out of it, maybe.

“I need the supply.” Colin answered, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down the back of your neck. It echoed in your ears, the words he said that day. Good. Everything in you itched, like thousands of critters had dug into you and made a home scuttling around your insides. You wanted to kill him. You wanted to end his life, and you wanted to make it slow. Brutal. Painful. Even if it meant you were hung by FEDRA tomorrow morning. It’d be worth it.

The man at the door sighed, as if deeply bothered by getting Colin what he needed, and disappeared inside. He emerged a moment later, empty handed. “I’m all out. You’ll have to go across town tomorrow.” The man said flatly, saying nothing as Colin swore, before stepping away.

You ducked your head down as Colin passed, all too aware of the man in the doorway watching you suspiciously. After a moment, he sighed again, and retreated inside, slamming the door after himself. It took almost no time at all for you to push yourself back to your feet, and take off after the man who had left.

Despite your pounding footsteps against cracked concrete, he didn’t pay you any mind as you caught up to him. He seemed focused on getting to wherever it was that he was unknowingly leading you to, glancing up at the darkening sky every other step. FEDRA’s curfew would be coming into play soon enough.

To your disappointment, he walked into an apartment building, about three blocks away from your own. It seemed that, unless you were willing to risk being caught and stopped, today wasn’t the day you would be avenging your mother. You vowed that tomorrow you would do it. You would kill Colin. No matter what got in your way.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

By the time curfew was lifted, you had been waiting by the exit of your building for an hour.

The switchblade in your shoe felt heavy with every step you took towards the home of your mother’s killer. It weighed almost as much as the picture in your pocket. All of it was heavy. But you acted as normally as you could manage, passing by patrolling FEDRA guards without them so much as glancing towards you.

You were waiting by his building when the door opened, when he stepped out, and headed determinedly in the opposite direction from which you had come. You followed without a moment of hesitation.

He made his way around town, trading with a few people on the side of the streets, handing them small wads of ration cards in favour of various items. Nothing dangerous, though. Not to you. He clearly was oblivious to your loitering figure, standing a few metres away, like some omen of death. Despite your shadow reaching for his shoes as the sun rose, he didn’t flinch.

It was irritating you, just how easy this was. You had been following the man for two days now, and he hadn’t even noticed. How had he gotten the drop on you? How had he managed to kill your mother? How had you allowed him the opportunity to do so?

There was nothing remotely special about him — no reason that he should have survived over your mother, no reason that he should have been granted mercy over the last twenty years. He didn’t deserve it. Not like your mother had. She had done the best she could, for years, for the only daughter in her care. And she had done it all alone. This man, Colin, he was alone, and he had no reason to hurt her. You were going to make sure he regretted it.

You loomed at the entrance of an alleyway as he walked down it, finally stopping at a dead end, leaning against the brick wall as if he was waiting for something. Or someone. You knew it wasn’t you he was waiting for, so you bided your time, cautious of someone happening upon the two of you. If they had business with him, they would care. If they didn’t, then nobody but FEDRA would care.

By the time you finally decided to move, almost an hour had passed, and Colin was facing away from you at the entrance of the alley, head pressed to the bricks.

It was strange, what the innate desire to hunt and kill could bring out in you, that it could make you move silently without thinking about it. It could make you reach for the blade in your shoe, without so much as a rustle of your clothes.

With a final glance back at the entrance of the alleyway, you grew impatient, and you attacked.

From an outside perspective, you probably looked like some kind of wild animal. You jumped at him, tackling him, pushing him sideways and landing on his back as his shoulder smacked the asphalt, and he howled in pain. It was like seeing a cheetah hunt an antelope, the way you bored down on him. If you could have widened your jaws, and ripped out his insides, you think you would have.

But without that ability, you could only press the cold metal blade to his throat, and feel him go still.

“Do you remember me?” You asked, voice flat and still, despite the way your heart felt as though it would beat out of your chest, and splatter down in front of his face. You were quieter than you had expected, too. You thought that the words would burst out of you, vicious and unending, but they were quiet. Calm.

Colin shook his head, as much as he could with the side of his face pressed to the ground, and a blade to the soft skin of his neck.

“Think about it.”

His eyes strained to try and get a look at you, and they widened as you leant sideways slightly, allowing him to gaze at your blank face. “Oh, shit,” He said, mouth fumbling around the words.

“Yeah, shit.” You repeated, waiting for satisfaction to seep into your chest cavity, waiting for the grief to fade away.

It didn’t.

Nothing changed, even as you pressed the blade closer to his throat, even as you watched his eyes dart back and forth, as you watched him try and formulate a plan to survive. “Listen, kid—” He started, throat bobbing against the knife, drawing the tiniest line of blood. You watched him bleed, and expected to feel more than numb.

He threw your weight backwards, sacrificing more skin on his throat to your knife. You went flying off of him, but you flung yourself forward faster than he could stagger up, and dug the knife into his calf as he tried to stand. His yell pierced the air, louder than any of the commotion yet, and likely drawing attention of people out on the street. You just hoped, distantly, that FEDRA wasn’t around.

His flesh and muscle moved as you pulled the blade free, and you didn’t flinch at the squelch of blood that left him alongside it.

Colin fell back to the floor, resulting in crawling along the asphalt without care for how the small stones cut into his palms, leaving streaks of blood. “You don’t gotta do this, man, chill out!” His voice had more emotion in it than it had back when he killed your mother, which was infuriating. “It wasn’t personal!” He insisted, crawling further as you got to your feet, prowling after him similarly to the wild animal you felt like.

You’d disagree with his statement, though.

He already had your pack, you had already relinquished your gun — the only thing you refused to do was turn so you could be executed. If you were going to be killed, you were going to look your murderer in the eye. Instead of that, though, Colin had decided to make it personal. He had decided to kill your mother, to spread her brains out on the ground in front of you, to cover you in her blood, rather than spare her. And then, worse, he had let you live.

That seemed pretty personal.

“You killed my mom.” You stated, getting closer as he turned so he was facing you, watching you get closer. “D’you remember what you said to me?”

He shook his head.

“You said good. You were glad that it was my mother. Admit it, Colin. Tell the world all about how not-personal it was.”

More than anything, you wanted to feel satisfaction for how badly he was trembling beneath you, for how scared you were making him. But you just didn’t. Fear wasn’t enough. Not for what this man had done to you.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” He said, shaking, still shying away from you,

“No, you’re not. You’re sorry that I’m here, that you’re going to die. And that isn’t something to be sorry for.”

“Pl—Please, I have a daughter—a son, you don’t need to do this.” He begged, tearing up as he watched your grip on the switchblade tighten, watched you continue to approach. He was pathetic. Everything about him was pathetic.

“She had a daughter, too.”

His eyes widened as you leaped at him once again, digging your knife as deep as you could get it into his shoulder, feeling it graze bone as you pushed the hilt firmly against his skin, until you could practically hear the blood vessels breaking. He howled, a wounded animal, prey. And he did nothing as your fist descended against his face, once, twice, a third time.

It was just as you were losing count that somebody grabbed you, hauling you up and away from the body sprawled out on the floor, the puddle of blood slowly expanding beneath him. His chest was stuttering, but he had stopped groaning minutes ago.

“Well, shit.” A woman’s voice said, not sounding particularly authoritarian, so you figured she wasn’t FEDRA.

The hands grasping onto your arms released them shortly after, and you dropped to the asphalt, watching Colin’s chest closely, waiting for his breathing to stop. It didn’t seem to be slowing much, and you could feel that unending wave of rage coming back to you, overruling the numbness, and enhancing your need to have him dead.

You moved the slightest bit, about to launch yourself at him, but as soon as your foot was pushing you from your spot on the ground, the hands wrapped around your arms again.

“Fuck! Get off of me!”

“We can’t let you kill the guy, for fuck’s sake. We got business with him!” The woman spoke again, sounding increasingly irate as she moved to get between you and your mother’s murderer.

“He deserves to die. He deserves to be killed. Get off!” You practically roared, resorting to a state not unlike a feral cat, spitting and hissing, spine curling, trying to claw at the hands holding onto you. They stayed steady, even when you managed to scratch one of them deep enough to break skin.

The woman swore again, “Everybody deserves to die, get a hold of yourself!”

“Tess, ‘s probably best if we get him out of here.” The man gripping you said, voice straining slightly as he focused on keeping you restrained. He couldn’t do anything but hold on to you and watch as Tess dragged the guy, by his ankle, down the alley slightly, banging on a side door that you hadn’t even noticed. It opened, and the man inside swore before helping Tess grab the guy and haul him inside.

As soon as the door was safely shut, the man released you.

You walked to the end of the alley, gripping at the back of your head, swearing the whole way. You were probably screaming, given the way your throat was grating on every word, but the sound didn’t register.

“Joel, you’d better get in here.” Tess called, poking her head out of the door. You could hear the irritation in her voice, but it was immediately sent to the back of your mind as you realised what she had actually just said. You whirled around.

He wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

But he was… familiar.

You couldn’t help it — you laughed, almost hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” You said, voice strained with laughter, “You are Joel? Miller?” You asked, wanting him to say no and be done with it all so badly, but you knew that he wouldn’t say that. It was ingrained in your blood, in your very DNA.

He stared uncomprehendingly at you, as if expecting a spark of recognition to go through him, but it didn’t happen. You saw Tess step cautiously out of the building, apparently prepared to have Joel’s back, no matter what your next move was.

“Who are you?” Joel asked, instead of answering your question, or even making a move towards where you had begun to cry. If only he fucking knew — he had just saved the man who had murdered your mother, who had murdered the woman who was, once upon a time, his wife.

You reached into your pocket, uncaring of the way they both reached for what you assumed were weapons, and pulled out the photo. The moment you unfolded it, revealing him stood next to your mother, it was certain. This man was your father. You held the photo out towards him.

“Joel—” Tess warned, as he stepped forward, but he dismissed her with a look, clearly communicating that he could handle himself. He wasn’t worried, despite the state Colin had been in when they had arrived.

He stared at the photo, brows creasing, face drawing blank, before he reached out and took it. His finger ran across the image of your mother, her bright smile, not a slither of grey to be seen in her hair. “How did you get this?” He asked, clearly in disbelief, denial, maybe.

You pointed to the woman in the picture. “That’s—was my mom.”

It could’ve been funny, months, maybe years ago, the way his eyes flickered between you and the image of her, as if trying to put together how much of the statement was true. You vaguely noticed Tess shift uneasily behind him, before approaching.

“Was?” Joel decided to ask, eventually, instead of whatever else was going through his head. He said nothing to Tess as she took in the photograph he was still holding onto.

“That man, he—he killed her. A few months ago.” You said, smiling, because you couldn’t do anything else. This was all too much. First, your mother is killed. And then when you finally find somewhere potentially safe, you hear about your father. And then before you could do anything about that, you see her killer! And then, before you could finish the job, your biological dad, Joel Miller, saved his life. It wasn’t funny, but you didn’t know how else to react.

You stepped back, sliding down the brick wall behind you until you were sat on the asphalt, and could hang your head between your knees.

“Oh fuck,” Tess said, connecting the dots as she looked between you and Joel rapidly, brows furrowed as she became increasingly concerned. “Don’t tell me that she’s—” She shook her head, turning away from the photo and Joel and you, running a hand through her greasy hair.

Joel was still processing, or at least that’s what it looked like to you. He was staring at the photo, strangely still, seeming blank of any and all emotions.

Tess paced for a moment more, before releasing a heavy breath. She walked past Joel, over to you. “Okay, c’mon.” She said, holding out a hand for you. When you hesitated, she waved her hand and barely refrained from putting it in your face. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get you out of here before Colin goes to FEDRA.” You take her hand, surprised by her strength as she hauls you to your feet in an instant, releasing you immediately. She shook her head again. “Joel, time to go.”

He looked at her, and then towards you, nodding once. You said nothing when he put the picture in his own pocket, instead of handing it back. You hesitantly followed after Tess, wondering what your next move should be, and Joel followed after the two of you, looking stricken.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

None of you had said anything, the entire time Tess had hurried you through borders and to what you assumed was their apartment. It felt like it was miles away from your own.

The wallpaper was yellowed with age, slowly drooping down the walls, peeling away at corners, but it wasn’t the worst state it could’ve been in. The floral pattern didn’t really lend itself to the vibes of the apocalypse, though. Nor did it match either Tess or Joel’s stoic and tough demeanours.

You had no idea what to expect from this.

For as long as you could remember, your mother had told you tales of your father, of the great man he was, the great father he was. But here, on the other side of a worldwide outbreak of infection, you couldn’t quite match the image in front of you to the man in those stories. You had spent so long thinking of him as being dead, unable to do anything to find you or your mother from a grave, that to learn he was alive, and with Tess, it was a shock to your system.

Where was Sarah? Where was the half-sister you had heard so much about from your mother?

Despite Joel matching the name, and the photo that your mother had kept, it just didn’t feel like he was the man you had been imagining as your father. He didn’t seem kind or caring, he didn’t look like he had any love left in him. And maybe, you could have accepted that, if he had other aspects to him, if he hadn’t let your mother’s killer live.

“What happened the day of the outbreak?” You asked, finally, despite the way you ached to run away and cry, for your mother, for yourself, for the father you would never have. Joel just looked at you, rarely blinking as if you were a figment of his imagination, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“No, we are asking you questions.” Tess responded, clearly taking the lead on the situation, despite having no connection to you. It really shouldn’t have been her business. You scoffed. “Where did you come from?” She asked you, unblinking in the face of your disbelief.

You shook your head, “How is that even relevant?”

“Because I said it is.”

“I don’t care what you say. He’s my dad. You’re not my mom.” You replied, roughly, angrily, and you’re only more irritated when Tess doesn’t even react. You become furious when Joel says nothing. “Are you going to say anything?”

Tess went to speak, but you spoke again before she could utter a word.

“Not even about how you let my mother’s killer go? You don’t have anything to say about that?” You questioned, stepping towards him where he had taken a seat on the couch in front of that god-forsaken wallpaper.

There was an awkward lull in the room, each of you waiting for Joel to speak. He seemed unsure if he was going to speak at all, his brows furrowing further, and he pulled the photo out of his pocket to look at once again.

“She died, years ago. My—my kids…” Joel swallowed, and shook his head. He placed the photo down beside him. The photo meant nothing. You could’ve been to his house, and brought it here with you, never having met the woman he hadn’t seen since the day the world fell apart.

“Did you even look for us?” You asked him, head tilting, eyes stinging, wanting desperately for him to say yes, to say he scoured the world but missed you somehow. But looking at him, covered with scars, you could see he was nothing like the man your mother remembered. He didn’t care, not like she thought he had. The man in front of you wasn’t your father — he was a disappointment. He was your father’s shell.

Joel didn’t speak, swallowing harshly, seemingly unable to form any words.

“You’re nothing like she said you were.” You told him quietly, shaking your head, reaching by his side and taking the picture. You wanted to rip his half off, throw it at him, denounce him, tell him he wasn’t your father, that he was never worthy of your mother, but you couldn’t. It was the only thing that you would ever have of the father you should’ve had. The man your mother had loved. She’d already had so much taken from her, you couldn’t, even after her death, take Joel away too. He could live on in the memory. In pictures.

They didn’t say anything when you turned your back on them, shoving the picture in your pocket, and walking out of their door. You slammed it behind you, felt the walls of their apartment tremble with the force, and kept walking.

Part of you, a big part, wished that Joel Miller would have stayed dead. At least that way, you could have kept pretending.

503 notes · View notes

intoanotherworld23 · 3 months

Text

Caught And Taught

Summary: Joel catches you touching yourself while watching porn, and he decides that he’ll play along too

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Warnings: smut, female masturbation, use of porn, fingering, daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, soft dom Joel, minor spanking

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Authors note: Let me know in the comments what you think, and if you like it be sure to reblog so others can enjoy it too! My tag list is always open so please be sure to ask and I’ll be more than happy to add you. Thanks everyone! Enjoy! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

"Turn it on."

"Joel please-"

"I said turn it on." Joel says sternly his eyes squinting at you on the bed.

Feeling like you were going to throw up as your hands shook turning on the laptop to the video you were watching before he came home. Joel smirking as he watches you then get comfortable on the bed.

Of all the intimate things that have gone on in this bedroom something like this has never happened. Not once has he ever seen you touch yourself, and he was getting excited at the thought.

Soon as you press play on the video you were watching minutes ago. He gives you this mischievous look that makes you swallow a lump forming in your throat.

"Well," he starts off as he unbuttons his shirt. "Keep doing what you were doing."

Taking a huge intake of breath as your hand drops down between your legs. Touching your incredibly wet folds not sure what to do with Joel standing basically between your legs.

Moving your fingers up and down to gather the juices on your own fingers lubing yourself up. Gathering up some confidence as you pushed them inside of yourself. Opening your mouth open slightly already use to the feeling of your own fingers.

Hearing the over exaggerated moans on the computer screen. Feeling slightly embarrassed for being caught watching this while Joel was away. Joel however was focused on you and not the porn right in front of him.

Looking down to what you were doing ashamed to even look at him. Thrusting your fingers in and out a small moan escaping your lips. Straightening up as you cleared your throat awkwardly.

Quickly glancing at Joel to see him grinning devilishly. The only clothing he had left on were his underwear. He was eagerly waiting in anticipation to when he could jump in.

He was intrigued watching you like this. It was almost like he was on the edge of his seat waiting to see what happens next. Your cheeks become warm as you hold his gaze.

"Just like that baby girl." His hand rubbing himself through his boxers hoping to ease the pressure.

Your fingers stopping their movements for the slightest second. Joel saw this and groaned with disapproval.

"Did I say to stop?" Taking another deep breath as you keep going.

Joel couldn't keep his hands to himself anymore as you feel him grasp onto your ankle. The sudden touch had you jump. That didn't stop him though as he moved his hand up your leg. Massaging the flesh smoothly and in a comforting way that didn't intimidate you too much.

As you looked over quickly to the screen the woman was being fingered by some buff male. Her body writhing on the bed as the camera panned in on his fingers thrusting into her violently.

"I want you to come apart on your fingers." His hand pushed your thighs further apart so he could get a better look. "I know you can do it baby girl."

That was more than enough motivation for you as your fingers were slamming into you. The palm of your hand smacking against your pelvis. It felt good but it wasn't enough for you, and you needed Joel.

"Joel." Whining as you ground your hips into the mattress.

"What baby?" His hands now on your upper thigh so close yet so far away.

"Joel please." Begging him without saying anything he knew what you needed.

Joel moves closer to you as his hand touches your pussy. Softly rubbing his thumb back and forth on your clit. The powerful sensation had your toes curling and your back arching off the bed. All you needed was his touch on yours, and Joel secretly knew that.

Looking up at Joel to see his jaw clench, and his eyes wide with lust. Seeing this look on his face your now glad that Joel caught you watching porn otherwise this wouldn't have happened.

"Keep fucking yourself." Joel grunts as he kisses the top of your knee. "I know you're so close."

You nod in obedience. A soft smile glistening on his hips for your full submission. He could see you like this all the time. It was the hottest thing he's ever bared witness to.

Eyes glancing over at the screen again the man was now thrusting into the woman not waiting or anything. Her moans were turning into wails as he railed her into the mattress. The sounds alone had your ears feeling like they were on fire from embarrassment.

"Is that what you like?" You had to make sure to answer him carefully.

"I want you Joel." Shaking your head hoping your words would sway him. "Only you."

"Good." The pace of his fingers in match with your fingers inside of yourself.

It felt like your vision was getting hazy between your fingers and his. Any second now you could cum around your fingers, and Joel knew this judging by the look on your face.

"It hurts." Joel hums at your words as he licks his lips.

"Does it?" Cocking his head to the side.

"Yes daddy it does." Hearing you call him daddy sends him over the edge. He had a weakness whenever you'd whisper that name. It always did something to him.

Not wasting another second in taking off his boxers tossing them somewhere in the room. Your fingers removing themselves as you laid back legs spread waiting for him with a slight glimmer in your eye.

"Does my baby want me to fuck her?" Joel says as he waits for your response.

"Yes daddy I need to feel you inside me."

Joel then crawls up your body his mouth kissing up your trembling stomach. His mustache brushing against your skin making your body jolt. A trail of saliva follows the movements of his mouth. Your hands on either side of your head as your chest rose up and down heavily.

"Are you ready for me?" He asked against your breast biting down on your nipple making you cry out.

"Mhm." Breathing out harshly.

"What's that?" Cocking his head to the side not accepting that reply.

"Yes daddy."

Before you could say anything else his mouth is right on yours. Taking your lips against his like they were the last drop of water. He was thirsty for you, and planned on swallowing every last drop of you.

His tongue feels so incredible against yours. The sensation for both of you is becoming insatiable. He craves every inch of you. His hand reaches up and holds your jaw in his hands. The warmth of his hand pressed against your skin gave you a comforting feeling. Almost like he was telling you that you were safe with him.

"Don't think we need this anymore." Quickly turning the computer off so you could solely focus on each other.

"You won't be needing to watch porn like this anymore." His words more like a command than a request. "I wanna show you how much better the real thing is."

Joel watches your face as he nudges his cock towards your now dripping pussy, his large and swollen head disappearing between your folds. Finally moving forward even more.

Bracing himself against your hips as the air seems to leave your lungs. Both of you watching as his cock stretches you out. Silently cursing to himself when he sees how you welcome him. Gritting his teeth as his hands on either side of you grip on the sheets beneath him.

Joel would never get used to the feeling of how tight you felt around him. It was almost like a soft velvety feeling he wanted to wrap himself around.

"No more of this shit I mean it." He growled kissing you hard. "You will only fucking cum for me and nobody else."

Mumbling his name with a whine, but that seemed to only delay his actions.

"Do you understand me sweetheart?" His cock still inside of you as he waited for your response.

"Yes daddy." That was good enough for him.

Moving his hips back as he pushed forward to fill you to the brim. Your head feeling back against the pillows reaching forward to grab onto his butt. His cheeks clenching as they flexed when he pressed into you.

"For now." Mumbling just under a whisper.

"Excuse me?"

Before you could repeat what you just said he's already flipped you over so that your on your stomach. Pulling your hips up so your on your hands and knees. Smacking your ass leaving a slight sting.

Unable to catch your breath he pushes back into you. Without another hesitation he's thrusting with the same rhythm and motion as before. Hands glued to your sides as he pulled you back to meet his hips.

"What did you fucking say?" He hissed each word being spoke along with a thrust.

His hand coming down on your ass again. Your skin felt like it was on fire the way he was controlling your body. He loved seeing you like this though.

"Nothing." Stuttering as you buried your head into the pillow.

"Uh Uh Uh." He tsked at you.

"Nothing daddy." Responding as you wiggled your hips teasing him even further.

"That's what I thought. That's better."

Joel wasn't going to have that though. He wanted you to know that he was in charge, and wasn't going to put up with your back talking. All he wanted was to hear your words to him, and how badly you wanted it.

"Beg." Was all he said making you whine as he stopped his movements. "Beg for me."

Feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed to know you've gotta beg for him like a pathetic desperate whore.

"Beg for my cock and I'll give you what you want." His voice a touch softer as he pleaded with you. "I want to hear those pretty lips beg for me."

"Joel I want your cock so badly please." You started off but he wanted more. "It hurts so much please I want you and only you. Nobody can make me feel the way that you do."

He was loving this more than he should.

"Fuck me so hard with your cock I can't walk for a week."

With that he begins such a unmerciful pace that has your body and the bed rocking. He wants you to know he's in charge, and that he's the only man you ever need in your life.

He's drinking in every detail. The way your ass jiggles each time he pushes forward, the way your pussy clenches when he pulls out, and the sounds coming from your lips. He wants to savor each moment like it's the last time.

"Such a good girl for me letting me fuck you like this." He praised sweating dripping down his forehead.

Joel knows by your body that you aren't far, and your so close to the heavens he wants to help bring you to it. Wants to hear you scream his name as you cream around his cock.

"Joel." The way you said his name was like a warning.

"What baby?" He made fun as he kissed your shoulder blade. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so close." Is all you can say which is the truth. Any moment now and you'd be drenching his cock with your juices.

Weaving his fingers through your hair slightly tugging pulling your neck back. Mouth hanging open as you waited to see what he would do next. You never knew with Joel. One minute he could be cool and collected, and then next thing he's red with rage and unable to control his actions.

"Don't you want to cum around my cock?" He questioned with a grin on his face.

"Yes Joel please so badly." You mewl pathetically.

Your body is beyond spent, and your arms and legs are trembling and shaking to the point you become numb. A tear rolling down your cheek, and Joel is able to glance a peek.

"So fucking good for me baby." Clenching his jaw as a hand reached forward to grab your shoulder to have more leverage.

You can feel his breath on the back of your shoulder as he hovers over your body. His hips connecting with yours as your cheeks jiggle back and forth with each powerful thrust.

Joel wants to watch your face. He loves seeing the expression you make when you orgasm. To know that he's the reason behind that gives him pride.

The pressure is building faster and faster. It feel so close yet so far away. Within arms reach and Joel isn't letting you grab it. He just grins wickedly down at your mewling and pathetic cries to him.

"I'm right there with you baby girl." A hand slips under your body to attach to your clit.

A squeak slipping past your lips at the sudden and rough touch. It hurts but it a very good way that almost heightens the pleasure you're feeling. Turning your head your mouth finds the pillow and you bite down on it to muffle your sounds.

"You're doing good baby," he coos kissing your shoulder blade tenderly. "You're doing so good for me. You're okay you're almost there."

He pinches your clit between his fingers, and the small action sends you right over the edge. A shock running through your body almost like you were being brought back to life.

He rotates his fingers slowly and gingerly on your clit to help ease you through your orgasm. His thrusting had slowed down, but he hasn't stopped. He simply keeps going and keeps his eyes glued to the side of your face. Spent and fucked.

"Oh fuck I'm right there." Nodding your head back at him as your able to see him from the corner of your eye.

Noticing you were trying to look at him his cock twitches violently as he fills you completely and utterly. His head resting against the top of your back. His arms shaking trying to hold himself up so he doesn't hurt your already sore body.

"That went way better than I expected." He chirps as he pulls out with a hiss your sensitive clenching as he did.

Feeling the mix of your cum and his dribbling out of you and onto the sheets. Your eyes fluttering with relief knowing it was over, but sad that he was done. Joel could keep going until he passes out, but he didn't want to do that to your poor body.

Joel's hand massaging up and down your spine all the way to your ass. Hoping his touch would help sooth you and comfort you. He knew you had to be tired, and wanted to help ease you into slumber.

"I'm serious though." He says making you lift your head to fully look at him.

Taking note of how red and sweaty his face is. His lips were swollen from kissing you, and biting down on his lips. His pupils were dilated like he just took something or he was high off of you.

"No more fucking porn. You can watch only my cock." That seemed a little extreme not letting you be able to watch porn. "So I guess we'll just have to make our own."

#Joel Miller #Pedro pascal #Joel Miller smut #Pedro pascal smut #Joel Miller x reader #Pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller imagines #pedro pascal imagines #Joel Miller fic #Pedro pascal fic #joel miller oneshot #pedro pascal one shot

684 notes · View notes

avenging-fandoms · 1 year

Note

You begin to wear Joel's shirts when your bump gets more noticeable. He just beams with pride and talks to the baby every day.

part 1 sort of Pedro Pascal Masterlist

**this is not canon for the story of 'The Last of Us' but i love thinking of joel and ellie living peacefully and happy. *this is so disgusting fluffy it's so fanon

You groan softly as you roll onto your side, Joel nowhere to be found but Ellie was in his spot. This had been happening ever since she found out you were having a baby, if Joel wasn't in bed, she'd be next to you ready to protect you and the baby.

"Ellie.." The clock read 10:37am, breakfast was nearly over. She hummed. "Ellie, get up sweet girl. Let's go eat" Ellie sat up and rubbed her eyes, helping you out of bed.

"You're getting bigger!" She exclaims and you look in the mirror, turning to the side and Ellie smiles as she stood next to you. You rolled up the shirt you slept in, setting it on top of your stomach as Ellie just stared. "I've never seen this before, not in person anyway. What does it feel like?"

You grab her hand and put it on your stomach, pushing a bit and the baby kicks back. "Holy shit!" You laugh and brush her hair out of her face and she softly leans into you. "So you just feel him move in there?"

"Pretty much. And he pushes on my bladder" You complain and she laughs. "Go get ready, Joel's probably with Tommy. I'm not finding him, I'll find some food"

Ellie left the room with a smile and you look back at the mirror, still in awe that this was finally happening. "There's my girl" Joel wiped his hands on his pants and walked over to you, kissing your cheek as he placed his hand on your stomach. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I'm ready to push this kid out" You lean against him and he smiles, pulling your shirt down and hugging you softly as he rubbed your back. "Is it too much to ask you carry me half way to the dining hall? My feet are starting to hurt"

"Anything for you and my son" He smiles, kissing you softly. You lay your head on his chest, Joel rubbing your back.

"Elle?" You shout and she appears quickly in doorway, hand on her back pocket with her pocket knife in it. "Stand down, soldier" You open your arm and she walks in, burying herself in between you and Joel.

"What's this for?" Ellie mumbled into Joel's shirt and you smile, leaning your cheek on her head, closing your eyes.

"Nothing, just wanted a family hug"

Joel kept his promise and carried you halfway, and then the other half while taking a snowball fight break as Ellie threw it at Joel's back. Ellie tackled Joel into the snow, and you heard a laugh come from Joel you hadn't heard in years.

He picked you back up again and set you down once you reached the hall. Waffles, coffee and maple syrup filled your nose, and you swear your son did a backflip.

You fixed yourself a plate, Ellie as well and Joel just got a coffee. You and Ellie take in every bite, a glow radiating on your skin. "Feeling better, sweet girl?"

With a mouth full of food, you give him a thumbs up and he laughs, drinking his coffee. You swallowed and took a sip of orange juice, Ellie clinking her fork against her plate.

"Have you guys named him yet?" Ellie looked at you and you looked at Joel. He smiled behind his mug and stood up, sitting in the chair next to you and you turn your body towards Ellie, Joel's hand on the side of your stomach.

"Well, Ellie, Joel and I were thinking.." You looked back at Joel who smiled and looked at Ellie.

"We wanted you to be the one to name him" Joel finished your sentence, and Ellie was an instant mess. She fell into your chest and you smile, wrapping an arm around her back and the other holding her face. You shush her softly and stroke her hair, kissing her forehead. You were waiting for this, the day she let it all out.

"It's okay, sweet girl. I've got you, you're okay" You whisper into her hair, her hand on top of Joel's on your stomach. Joel watched you in adoration, kissing your cheek and Ellie's head.

Ellie picked her head up and wiped her nose with a napkin, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "Well.. I can't say I haven't thought of any" You both crack a smile and you rub your leg. She pulled out a piece of paper and you giggle. "What?"

"You carry it around?" You ask, Ellie rolling her lips in between her teeth.

"I look at the names and think about showing him around and using his name option, seeing if it fits" She shrugged and your eyes started to get blurry. "Jackson"

Joel scoffed. You hit his chest. Ellie laughed.

"Uhm, William.. but.. Bill. For short"

Neither of you lifted your eyes. She named a few more, none of them really fitting.

"The last one.. uh.." Ellie started to sniffle again and you rub her leg. "The last name is Samuel. Sam.. for.." Her words trailed off and you looked at Joel who nodded.

"Sam is perfect, Ellie" You both stood up and you held her face, rubbing your thumbs over her cheeks. "Thank you, Ellie. For everything. For changing my life, for changing his. Thank you" She clung herself to your body, Joel standing up and wrapping his arms around the both of you.

Ellie, for the first time in her life, felt like she finally had a family who loved her.

"I.. I love you guys. Thank you" She wiped her eyes, putting her plate in the dirty dishes bin and sliding on her coat.

"Where do you think you're going?" Joel said and you hid a smile as you tucked your lips between your teeth, poking at your waffles.

"Uhm.. Tommy was gonna teach me how to take care of the horses"

"And you didn't ask us, first?" Joel gestured to you and him and you look at him.

"Don't bring me into this! You know I give into her" You angry whisper and bury your face deep in his chest.

"Joel, Yn. May I please go with Tommy to the horses so he can teach me how to take care of them?" Joel sighed, shaking his head.

"I wished you would've asked first, Ellie. You can't just run off"

"Yn? Can I please go?" You cover your ears and Ellie gets closer. "Can I pleaseeeee go?"

"Yes! Go enjoy being a kid!" You uncover your ears and she clapped, running out the door. You sat up and Joel looked at you as you leaned back on the bench, legs on either side of it.

Joel pulled up your shirt, bending down to put his mouth against your stomach, hands holding your back up. "Your mother is a push over, you're going to be so spoiled. “She’s spoiled too, she likes to steal daddy’s shirts” He looked up at you. “She’s lucky she looks delicious in them” Joel whispered and you smacked his head lightly, the both of you laughing.

His thumbs massage your hips and fingers massaging your back as he continues to speak against your stomach, surprisingly no one in the dining hall, not like Joel would care. "I'm so glad you'll be here soon" Joel laid his head on your stomach and he jumps as he feels a kick against his cheek.

"That's what you get for insulting his mother!"

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #joel miller blurb #joel miller blurbs #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #pregnancy fic

3K notes · View notes

dindjarinsbeskarbunny · 11 months

Text

Incase you missed the best parts of the sneak peak of “strange way of life” with Ethan Hawke and Pedro Pascal released in Spain yesterday.

#pedro pascal #the mandalorian smut #joel miller smut #joel miller imagines #pedro pascal x reader #alpha din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin imagines #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal smut #joel miller

981 notes · View notes

disturbedbeautywrites · 1 year

Text

Bullet wounds and love letters - Joel Miller Imagine

Synopsis: when you’re investigating a weird noise in your base for the night, Joel finds himself being brought back to the night he lost Sarah.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of slight gore, injury, and I think that’s it

Click.

You heard the gun cock before anything else. Joel and Ellie were both asleep when you heard someone moving around in the building you guys were staying in for the night. You of course had your gun on you, but the two raiders had you outnumbered.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as they demanded you give them all the food that you had. You slowly took off your pack and slid them all the food that was in there, your movements slow. You knew that you couldn’t beat both of them, so you were just trying to keep the peace right now.

They greedily took the food and then looked you over, a sick smile on their lips. “Please don’t…” Your words were a small whimper as they shared wicked gazes, the gun now pointing at your abdomen. “Good luck, princess.” That’s when the gun went off and you felt pain shoot through your abdomen, falling to your knees as you put your hand over the wound. It was bleeding profusely, a strangled sob leaving your lips.

The raiders had decided to walk off, convinced they would wake any infected that was around. “Y/N? I heard a - Fuck.” Ellie’s voice could be heard as you tried to hold the blood in, giving her a slightly scared smile. “Ellie, I need you to go get our first aid kit, okay?” Your words were shaky as she nodded and took off running, yelling for Joel. Tears kept slipping down your cheeks as you slowly fell down to the floor, the pain coursing through every single inch of your body now. It was making you feel extremely weak. Your breaths felt more and more shallow as the seconds passed, your hands covering the wound as your head laid back against the floor. Leave it to you to survive the worst of the apocalypse but be killed by raiders. It was just your luck.

“Baby…” Joel’s voice felt like it was a hundred miles away as he ran over to you and immediately dropped to his knees as Ellie ran up behind him and she dropped the kit at your side. He started to give Ellie instructions, pulling out a small bottle of tequila you kept for wound purposes as well as a needle and some fishing line. Joel was shaking and nervous, your hand covering his as you tried to soothe him with all the energy you had left. He took the tequila bottle and put it up to your lips, lifting your head so you could take a gulp of it. “This is going to hurt sweetheart, and I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded smaller than you had ever heard it, his hands moving to pour the alcohol into your wound.

You let out a hiss of air between your teeth, your body instinctively reacting and convulsing to get away from the painful sensation. You kept your eyes locked on his, his look far away and you knew exactly what was going through his head. He had told you about Sarah in passing when you two were getting to know each other, and now you were laid here on the ground with the same exact wound she died from. He wasn’t going to let that happen again, that he was sure of. He tried to keep his breathing steady and not let the panic attack take hold. He tried to forget the feeling of holding his dying daughter in his arms. He was trying. He was trying so damn hard. You wouldn’t turn out the same. You couldn’t. He needed you. He couldn’t lose this battle again. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough anymore.

You had Joel on one side of your body, his fingers slowly working the needle and the fishing line through the wound. The bullet was already out and the wound didn’t look fatal, that was evident from the way you were still alive. But, he was still nervous. He wasn’t going to lose two girls to the same damn fate. He had his lip pulled between his teeth as he worked, Ellie squeezing your hand from the other side of you.

As he kept working, the pain kept getting worse and worse. The tattered edges of your skin were more and more painful with each pass of the needle and your whimpers were getting louder. “Hey, look at me.” Ellie’s voice called out to you as you felt on the edge of blacking out from the immense pain, your vision going blurry and black around the edges. Your gaze slowly moved over to the girl beside you who had become like a daughter to you. You had never had kids, but she was the equivalent of one to you now and as she sat there, pulling her joke book out to distract you, you felt your heart grow 3 sizes. She was trying to make you feel better in the one way she knew how; trying to make you laugh. As she was sitting there telling you jokes, you could feel more and more tears slipping down your cheeks.

You couldn’t die, not now. You finally found a family. You found someone who cared about you more than he cared about hisself and you found a little girl who needed you just as much as she needed you. You finally belonged somewhere. “Okay, babe I need to move you. You’re all stitched up but we need to get you somewhere safe.” You heard Joel’s voice in your ear as he went to move you, a loud noise of pain leaving your lips as you laid across his arms bridal style. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His voice was hushed as he tried to shake off the memory of Sarah in his arms just like this, tears slipping down his cheeks as he carefully carried you back to where the three of you were camping.

The journey didn’t take long, but along the way you had let the exhaustion overcome you. Your eyes slid closed in a way that you didn’t know if you would wake up from, but it was a welcome distraction from the pain. Your dreams were one of your favorite places to be, outside of being with Joel and Ellie. You could plan your life and how it would go once the outbreak was over, if that would ever happen. You could see yourself living a normal life with the two of them, having a pretty house and a yard. You weren’t fighting to survive every single day. It was peaceful. It was something you wish you could have.

“Babe, dinners ready. I also managed to find some of our old pills in my bag for the pain.” Joel’s soft voice stirred you from your slumber as he sat beside you on your sleeping bag, his lips pressing to your forehead. His eyes were still teary and you could see the fear on his face as he pressed his lips to yours softly, pausing to whisper he loved you.

Once the words were returned he looked at you as if you were the most fragile thing he had ever laid eyes on, his fingers timidly running over your skin. “I thought I lost you. You scared me.” His words were soft as he met your gaze, a small smile taking over your lips. You allowed your fingers to brush over his cheeks, your thumb brushing away stray tears. “You’re going to have to try real hard to get rid of me, Miller.” The teasing in your voice just made him smile even bigger, his lips pressing to yours again before he carefully helped you maneuver to take the medicine and eat some of the food that was prepared.

Was this a perfect scenario? No, it was far from it. But, you had your little family and that’s all that mattered.

#joel miller x reader #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #Joel Miller x you #joel miller imagine #Joel Miller imagines #tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #tlou x you #tlou x y/n

1K notes · View notes

joekeeryswife · 8 days

Text

Outbreak Day - J.M

a/n: hello angels! reader is 26 and pregnant and Joel is 36. there is a little twist 😵 best way to describe this imagine is that it’s sad, long and has a shitty ending lmfao. okay anyways, enjoy reading 🫶 please send me in some fluffy requests and some dad! joel requests too!!

big trigger warning this imagine is very gory and descriptive!

“Sarah honey, is that you?” you turned to look at the front door and saw your step daughter Sarah coming home from school. “hey mum” she said as she set her backpack down on the floor. “how was school?” you walked toward her and gave her a small hug and a kiss on her forehead.

“was good. got dads watch fixed but everyone acting weird, cops everywhere, shops closing early. i don’t know just weird” she said making your heart pound a little, you didn’t know why but hearing her say that scared you but you tried not to dwell on it too much. “yeah well it’s probably just people being stupid. we shouldn’t worry too much okay?” she nodded but then groaned making you frown.

“dad told the Adlers i’d go over there to help them make cookies” she sighed, it wasn’t that she didn’t like the Adlers it was just she wanted to spend time with you and her dad as it was his birthday. “look, go there for thirty minutes then say i need you home, i don’t mind you blaming me.” she smiled and thanked you.

“i was going to make your dad a cake but we don’t have the ingredients and i was too tired to go food shopping so he should be brining one home, he’s going to be home earlier today as well” her eyes lit up as you spoke “is it a chocolate cake?” she asked watching you nod. “i didn’t tell him it was because you have been craving one i told him it was because i was” Joel hated chocolate cake but for his girls he’d do anything to please them.

“thank you mum, you’re the best. i owe you one” she said as she turned to go out the front door again to the Adlers house. “no worries honey, if Mrs Adler bakes chocolate chip cookies please bring me one, the baby is craving them like mad” you said as you rubbed your growing stomach. she nodded and said her goodbyes before leaving to spend the worst 30 minutes of her life with the Adlers.

-♡-

“hey baby girl. how was school?” Joel asked as he finally got home, four hours later than expected. “you’re late” she said, completely ignoring his question as her eyes shifted from the TV to him. you had both been waiting for him on the sofa watching Harry Potter and you had fallen asleep not even halfway through the movie. being pregnant had made you extremely tired so it wasn’t a shock to Sarah when she saw you put a blanket over yourself and curl up into a ball on the sofa within the first 10 minutes of the movie playing.

“i know, im sorry. work has been crazy, guys calling in sick, it was just me, uncle Tommy and Dave in today. i meant to phone mum but my phone died” he said as he made his way over to the two of you. his heart melted when he saw you sleeping next to Sarah, you’d never looked cuter. “its fine, we had fun without you anyways” he lifted up your feet so he could sit between you both, careful to not wake you up in the process.

“did you at least get the cake?” she said shyly as Joel got comfortable on the sofa. “oh shit” he put his head in his hands “im sorry honey i completely forgot” she nodded, understanding that he obviously came straight home as soon as he finished work. “mum is probably gonna kill you. she wanted cookies earlier from the Adlers but they were making raisin instead of chocolate chip so i didn’t even bother asking if i could bring one home for her” Sarah said and Joel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his other resting on your legs.

“i’ll get you guys a cake tomorrow, i promise it just completely slipped my mind” she shook her head, indicating that it was fine and she understood he was stressed. Joel felt you stir and you woke up, your hair all over the place and your bones cracking as you stretched from a very good nap. “hi baby” Joel said softly as you looked at him.

he unwrapped his arms from Sarah’s shoulders for a moment so he could give you a hug and a kiss. “i miss you so much” you said as you sat up so you could rest on him instead of the arm of the sofa. “i missed you too. how are you? how’s the baby?” you nodded, still half asleep.

“fine, kicking like crazy” you were only six months pregnant and your unborn daughter was already giving you a hard time. you rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around both you and Sarah, pulling you both into him. “did you bring home the cake?” you asked making him sigh “no, i’m sorry baby, i forgot” you shrugged, eyes closing again as you tried to fight sleep but it was no use.

“i love mum so much but she could have slept through world war 2 and not have been disturbed at all” she said making Joel laugh quietly, trying not to wake you up. to be fair, carrying this baby had knackered you out and he understood that you needed sleep but sometimes you would be halfway through a conversation with him when he got home from work and you’d be falling asleep whilst you were taking. “to be fair, you aren’t wrong there” he ran a hand through your hair gently as he admired you, you were stunning and he loved you so much.

“anyway, let’s try spend some time together tonight, let’s put on a good film, this is shit” Joel said making Sarah scoff and look at him “that is a lie. Harry Potter is the best” he shook his head. “take it back or you work get your present” she said making him gasp. “you wouldn’t dare do that” he said to her, making her give him the ‘try me’ face which made him quickly change his comment and apologise to her.

she grabbed the box off of the coffee table and handed it to him. he unwrapped his arm from her yet again to try open it with one hand without waking you up. he opened the box and saw his now fixed watched that had been broken for three months. “aww baby that’s so sweet, thank you” he kissed her forehead and tried to put the watch on but failed miserably making Sarah help him put it on. “okay now we can watch your stupid old film dad but don’t expect me to stay awake” she said as they both got comfortable again “i wouldn’t dream of it” he smiled at her.

-♡-

green and blue flashing light woke Sarah up from her sleep. she looked around the room confused, she had somehow ended up in her bedroom and didn’t hear any noise in the house. she sat up as she heard helicopters fly over the house and car alarms go off. she quickly got up calling out for Joel as she walked around the house but she only found you in bed asleep, no sign of Joel.

she felt awful waking you up but she had no other choice. she crept to the side of your bed and shook you awake. “mum, can you wake up please?” you jumped awake when you felt her hand on your shoulder. “what’s the matter sweetheart?” you asked but your question was answered when another helicopter flew over the house. “what the hell?” you said sitting up quickly.

you grabbed your phone which was on the bedside table but there was no service. “what’s happening?” Sarah asked as you quickly got dressed out of your pyjamas. you were going to go outside and you didn’t want your neighbours, if they were awake, to see you in your pyjamas so you put on a tracksuit before walking downstairs. “i don’t know baby”

you turned on the tv and heard the broadcast ‘stay home, do not let anyone into your house. we will post more instructions soon’ you frowned, what the fuck was happening? you checked your phone again, this time trying to phone anyone, your mum, your dad, your brother, Joel and nothing. no calls were going through.

the two of you jumped at the sound of Mercy, the Adlers dog barking at your front door. Sarah quickly put on her shoes and went outside to retrieve the dog and you quickly followed, slipping on your trainers. “Sarah i don’t think we should go outside yet. we should wait for your dad” but she ignored you. she walked outside, bringing Mercy with her to take him back home making you follow after her as quick as you could.

“Sarah please come back inside” you said but the curious girl went inside the Adlers house after she heard a glass breaking. “no Sarah don’t go in there” you sighed, you loved that girl but she did not listen. Sarah was quiet walking into that house, making sure to not make any sudden movements as she did. the noise was coming from the kitchen and she quickly made her way there and almost screamed at the sight infront of her.

you were right behind her, you felt sick to your stomach as you saw Mrs Adlers mum chewing on her daughter’s neck with some sort of fungus growing out of her mouth. your eyes widened and your heart dropped, what the fuck was going on? the once disabled old woman looked up at the two of you and quickly stood up screeching and running after you when you told Sarah to run.

you weren’t as quick as you used to be but you were luckily quick enough the run away from this infected woman, she had fallen over the crinkled carpet giving you enough time to escape. “Sarah we need to get back in the house right now” you shouted as you grabbed her hand and tried to pull her into the house but as you did Joel’s truck pulled up.

“get in the truck right now” Joel shouted at you both, he sounded scared and he was never ever scared. this made you feel even more sick than before. he had a wrench in his hand and he quickly pulled the two of you behind him when the screeching sound approached you again. you all looked at the front door to see the elderly woman fall over the steps of her front porch.

Tommy got out of the car with a huge rifle in his hand making your eyes fill with tears, you were absolutely terrified but you didn’t want to show Sarah that you were scared, if she saw that she would feel even more frightened then she already was. you grabbed ahold of her hand and tried to pull her into the truck but she wouldn’t budge. it was like she was frozen in fear.

the old woman’s head shot up, her eyes were black and she started crawling towards you then she stood up and ran towards Joel and Tommy. “what are we doing Joel” without a second thought Joel cracked the wrench on her head making her fall to the floor. you and Sarah both gasped at what he had just done. Joel was never a violent person and this had shocked you.

he dropped the wrench and they both turned to look at you and Sarah. both of your faces were filled with fear and Joel quickly pulled Sarah into him “you killed her” she said, voice filled with fear “i know baby i’m sorry” he kissed her forehead and looked at you. you couldn’t believe what you just saw. you were confused and scared. “we gotta go” Tommy said making you all quickly get in the car.

you were sat in the back with Sarah who hugged you closely “it’s alright honey, it’ll all be over soon i promise” you whispered and you rubbed your hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her but also trying to comfort yourself. you could feel the baby kicking vigorously “are you okay y/n? you aren’t hurt are you?” Joel asked as he looked back at the two of you. you just shook your head.

you didn’t know why but all this fear made you wish you were back to being a little kid, wishing that your mum was there to comfort you when you were scared yet now you were the adult comforting your child and you didn’t know if you would ever even see your mum again.

“dad-” Sarah said but Joel quickly cut her off “i don’t know” he said like he knew what she was going to ask him. “they’re saying it’s a virus, some kind of parasite” Tommy added making Joel look at him. “does it come from terrorists?” she asked making Joel repeat himself “we don’t know”

“are we sick?” she asked and this time you answered “no, none of us are sick” Joel nodded “of course not” he sounded mad but you didn’t know what at. “why were they blowing things up?” her eyes were filled with tears as she asked all these questions.

“no idea, there’s no phone, no radio” her eyes darted between Tommy and Joel “how do you know?” she asked, voice laced with concern “what?” Joel looked back at the two of you, cuddled up together with you trying to act your calmest but he knew you, you were freaking out.

“how do you know we aren’t sick?” she was practically crying now. “they’re saying it’s mostly people in the city, that’s why they have the highway blocked off” Tommy said but he was quickly silenced when he drove past a burning house of one of his friends.

“the Adlers would take nana to the city, so that’s why they were sick?” Joel nodded “your right, that’s probably why” his thick texan accent was filled with concern but he tried his best to stay calm. “we are going to be fine, trust me” Tommy said but he sounded unsure of what he had just said.

he drive around the corner and quickly slowed down when he saw a small family. “what are you doing?” Joel asked and Tommy just shook his head “they have a kid Joel” Joel quickly cut him off. “so do we, are you forgetting that my wife is pregnant?”

“Joel Tommy is right, they have a kid we should help them” he turned back to you “no, we don’t know them. keep driving Tommy” he’d never spoken this was before and this was definitely not the Joel you knew. you just prayed that whatever this is would go away and you could go back to your normal lives.

-♡-

you were driving through the town, planes flying low, catastrophe everywhere and you were just scared. “right keep going down this way” Joel said as Tommy drove down a side road leading to a whole group of people who were fighting and running away from the danger. “keep driving Tommy” Joel said even though there were people everywhere.

“are you kidding? Joel i can’t just drive through a whole group of people” Joel cut him off shouting “just keep going damn it” cars were crashing into each other, the sounds of people screaming made your eyes fill with tears. the next thing you knew the cinema doors cracked open with a lot more people coming out of it, all of them crying.

“shit” Tommy said as he quickly stoped the car “go go, fuck Tommy go get out of here” Joel said as he looked behind him out of the truck and slammed his hand on the dashboard “i’m going, i’m going” Tommy started reversing back, careful to not hit anyone in the process.

Sarah looked out the back window and so did you, seeing the huge airplane falling rapidly toward the floor. “Tommy, you need get out of here” you shouted as the plane darted toward you. “fuck Tommy go now” Joel shouted but it was too late, the huge plane crashed on the ground exploding into a million pieces.

the huge flame almost blinded you, you felt sickened at the thought of all those people on the plane that didn’t even stand a chance. “oh shit” you heard Sarah say as a huge chunk of the plane crashed into you car and then your whole world went black.

-♡-

“y/n” you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder as you awoke from the darkness “y/n honey we need to get you out, can you get out slowly for me angel?” Joel’s soft voice filled your mind as you sat up, a sharp shooting pain went right through your stomach making you groan. “my stomach is killing me” you said as you put a hand on your belly. you looked out the window and saw Sarah sitting on the floor and Joel crouching next to where you were sitting.

“don’t panic, it’s probably nothing okay?” Joel’s heart dropped when he heard you say that, a pain in your stomach was never a good sign especially when you are pregnant. “can you get out sweetheart? or do you need help?” you just nodded and started making your way out of the car.

once you had gotten out of the car you stood next to Sarah and saw Tommy was on the opposite side “we gotta get off of the street” he said as you stood up right, you right hand still back on your stomach hoping to feel any sign of movement. “Sarah can’t walk, i’ll have to carry her. do you think you can walk?” you nodded again. “shit” you heard Tommy shout as a police car crashed into Tommys now ruined truck.

the car set alight and you were lucky you even made it out of the car that quick before it crashed otherwise you would have been dead and you wouldn’t have wanted your family to see that. “Tommy” Joel shouted as he tried to see Tommys face through the flames. “i’m okay, head to the river and i’ll meet you there” with a simple nod Joel picked up Sarah and pushed you behind him.

“stay close okay?” he gave you a quick kiss before you both started making your way through the side roads trying to find a way to the river. the two of you stopped once you saw a group of bodies with people eating them. “what the fuck” you whispered as you saw this horrific sight in front of you. one of the people shot up, looking at you twitching weirdly.

“go” Joel pushed you in front of him and you both started running through a random cafe. the man chased you, snarling and screeching as he followed. you could hear the man tripping over different things but you didn’t dare look behind you. you could hear Joel comforting Sarah who was now crying as you finally made it outside but you didn’t stop running until a gunshot filled the silent field.

you and Joel both stopped, turning to look back and the now dead body in front of you. “don’t move” you heard someone say next to you as a bright light shone on the three of you. “my daughters hurt her ankle and my wife is pregnant” the man lowered his gun and started talking to his radio “i’ve got three civilians by the river, one of them injured, one pregnant”

you couldn’t make out what the other person was saying but your thoughts were cut short when Sarah spoke up “what about uncle Tommy?” she questioned Joel just shook his head “i’m gonna get you both safe first then i’ll go back for him okay?” she just nodded and you all looked back at the masked man. “yes sir….. yes sir”

he raised his gun “we are not sick” Joel said as the man approached the three of you. “sir, i said we are not sick” with that the masked man shot a round of bullets and Joel heard you and Sarah scream. you all rolled down a small ditch and Joel quickly turned to look at the man who was now approaching him with his gun raised. “i’m sorry” he said but before he could shoot Joel another shot was fired, killing him instantly.

he looked up to see Tommy with his gun raised, he had never been so happy to see his brother in his whole life. “are you okay?” Tommy asked Joel who was just grazed by a bullet and Joel just nodded but Tommys eyes shifted to you who was covered in blood and gasping for air. “oh god” he said making Joel turn around to look at you.

all you could do was feel a throbbing pain in you stomach. Joel quickly got up and ran to you and Tommy made sure Sarah was okay and turned her away from you. he knew Joel wouldn’t want her seeing you like this and it was bad enough he had to see you like this. “no no it’s okay” he could see the blood soaking through your jumper, the once grey colour was now a soaked dark red and it was growing by the second.

“you’re okay, move your hand honey” Joel said once you’d moved your hand, putting pressure on the wound. you cried in pain as you still gasped for air. “i know i know im so sorry sweetheart i am” he said and he pressed harder on the wound to stop it from bleeding out more. you managed to speak through your pain as you grabbed onto Joel’s arm “go” he shook his head.

“go Joel, take” you took a few more deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down “take Sarah and go” he just shook his head again. “no, i’m not leaving you like this. i can get help and you’re gonna survive this” he said, his eyes filling with tears as he saw your tired but pained expression.

“you know how much i love you, i don’t” you closed your eyes as you breathed deeply again “i don’t want you seeing me like this” you stuttered out. you felt a tear roll down your cheek as you realised what was about to happen to you. “meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me” you could hear Sarah sobbing next to Tommy and you hated that she was even watching you, laying there covered in blood.

“i’m sorry” he said as he sat down next to you, he took the pressure off of your wound and you were grateful he had given up, there was no way you were going to be able to survive this and you didn’t want to prolong it. you just shook your head at his comment. “don’t-”

you felt pain all over your body but you felt tired, so tired that you wanted to sleep desperately. “i love you, i love Sarah. just take her and run okay?” he had tears now rolling down his cheeks, his bloody hand now stroking your cheek softly. “im not leaving you here on your own” you just smiled at him. you knew he wouldn’t leave but you wanted to save him from the trauma of seeing you go.

“i know” you looked at him and he kissed you, one last for however long he has left on this earth. “i love you so much” you heard him say and with that your eyes closed. he sobbed quietly, you were gone and nothing was ever going to bring you back.

you were carrying his unborn child and he wished he could go back in time and taken the bullet instead of you. you were this ethereal soul who didn’t deserve to die this way and he hated it. he hated it so much. he tried his best to calm himself down as he took your wedding ring off of your finger and put it in his pocket hoping to keep it safe. it wasn’t like someone was going to steal it but he took it off so he could have something with him that was yours.

he kissed your forehead and carefully placed your body back on the floor and turned toward Sarah and Tommy, he had tear stains on his cheeks but his expression was neutral. “let’s go” he said, he was emotionless “dad, we can’t just leave her-” he cut Sarah off “i said let’s go” with that the three of them left and never looked back.

136 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 9 months

Text

Angel of the Morning

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 658

Summary: You wake Joel up in the best way

Author’s Note: So I rewatched ep 1 of TLOU and I was like NO! It’s SO sad (and so good) but I thought, it’s his birthday, this is how it SHOULD have gone lol 😏thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it’s raining, it’s soft and sweet but it’s his birthday so a present is in order...o-r-a-l (m r-e-c)

Joel Miller Masterlist

Your eyes blink open to the distant rumble of thunder and the soft pitter patter of raindrops against the roof. As your sight adjusts you realize the room is dim, the morning sunshine hidden behind the gray blanket of clouds outside your window.

Joel tightens his grip around your waist, mumbling something incoherent as he nuzzles his chin into your shoulder and pulls your back closer to his warm chest.

“Morning,” you whisper.

His breathing is steady as his fingers instinctively trace the curve of your hip.

You feel the soft press of his lips against your skin before he mumbles, “mornin’ darlin’.”

The rain starts to fall more heavily, a steady drumming at the window and you snuggle into his embrace.

“Is that rain I hear?” he asks.

“Mm,” you reply, turning so you’re on your back.

He shifts until his head is resting on your chest and he has you pinned to the bed beneath his arm. Your fingers fall into his hair and you lightly scrape them over his scalp, much to his contentment. With deliberate movements you trail your fingertips along his jaw and press them against his beard before working your way to the nape of his neck.

His satisfied hum rumbles through you and the hand that rests over your stomach starts to inch lower but before he gets too far you slip from his grasp and push him onto his back.

“Hey now,” he grumbles as he reaches for you.

With a coy smirk pulling at your lips you settle your thighs on either side of his waist and delicately drag your fingers down his stomach, stopping to pay extra attention to the dark trail of hair below his belly button.

He sucks in a breath and smooths his hands along your naked thighs, gripping your waist tightly when your fingers dip into the waistband of his boxers.

“You look like an angel,” he whispers.

Your expression says otherwise as you lift yourself and tug his boxers down, sitting in the same position while you lean forward and press soft kisses to his chest and stomach.

Every sweep of your lips has his muscles flexing and he drops his hands from your waist and runs them through his hair, the dark strands a wild mess against the pillow.

As your lips move lower he lets out a low groan and you can feel his thighs tense beneath you. You dip your head and tease him with your tongue, watching through lowered lashes as he grabs the pillow and grips it tightly, his eyes trained on you.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as you take him into your mouth.

His hips jerk upward as you swirl your tongue, sucking down more of him and following with the pump of your hand.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes, releasing the pillow and pressing his hands to face.

His continued curses are muffled by his palms and when you slide all the way up his length and tease his tip he uncovers his face and your name falls from his lips in a desperate plea.

Every muscle in his body is pulled tight and his breathing ragged as you swallow him down again then slowly slide back up, only to do it over and over, all the while squeezing tightly with your hand in the wake of your tongue.

Long fingers clench the sheets as he thrusts his hips and watches as he disappears into your mouth.

“Fuck darlin’,” he groans before he swells and spills his release down your throat.

You taste every last drop, sucking your way back to the tip then trailing soft kisses over his stomach and chest.

He’s still breathing heavily, his skin hot beneath your touch. When you reach his shoulder you nuzzle your face into his neck and breathe him in. He wraps you in his arms, letting out a sigh and murmuring, “fuck darlin’, I love you.”

“Happy birthday Joel.”

@hiddles-rose @justkinsey @laineyreads @lorilane33 @beccablogsthings @kmc1989 @hallecarey1 @pedritosdarling @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814

#pre!outbreak joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #pre!outbreak joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagines #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

441 notes · View notes

headkiss · 10 months

Note

could I request joel and shy!reader, the first time that they share a bed/spend the night together? she learns that even though he is a grumpy old fart he is also a huge cuddler? I love your writing for joel!!

grumpy old fart made me giggle! here u go lovely!!! | 0.8k fluff

It feels like you’ve been walking for days, the heel of your beat-up shoes rubbing uncomfortably against your skin, your backpack feeling heavier and heavier on your shoulders.

Somehow, Joel looks unfazed. Of course, he’s got dirt all over and you’re sure he is tired, but he doesn’t look it. He’d probably keep walking until he physically couldn't anymore.

You don’t complain, because everyone’s tired and sore, and the last thing you’d want to do is cause trouble or annoyance.

Still, when you spot a motel in the distance, the relief washes over you.

There’s only one room left in the place that’s sleepable now, the rest of them blocked off or broken down from debris and years of being empty. Well, it’s technically two rooms; a door in between to conjoin them, and Ellie quickly claims one of them as her own for the night.

She shuts the conjoining door behind her, probably to have the privacy to clean up as much as possible with whatever’s in her bag.

You and Joel stand in silence for a bit, the one bed in the room sticking out a little too obviously.

“I can take the floor,” you offer.

“No, you take the bed.”

Joel’s stubborn, and cold, and often grumpy, but it doesn’t stop you from liking him. He’s risking his life to save the girl in the next room, and no matter how aloof he acts, the way he looks out for you says enough.

He’s a good man, even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

“What about your back?” You know it’s been bothering him, “you need it more than I do.”

“We’ll just share, alright?”

Joel suggests it before he really thinks it through, because he might have a hard time sleeping next to you. It’s to no fault of your own, really, he just doesn’t know how much longer he can keep you at arm’s length when he has this stupid fucking urge to hold you and protect you with all he has.

He’s not sure how someone like you wound up with someone like him, but he wouldn’t dream of complaining.

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” you say.

You like Joel more than you should and the thought of sleeping next to him has your nerves flaring. You’ve never slept next to him before, even when the body heat would’ve been helpful.

You’re quiet throughout dinner (a can of long expired Chef Boyardee split between three), busy thinking, trying to get your shit together because you shouldn’t be nervous. It’s just a bed. It’s Joel.

Happy with her meal, Ellie goes back to her room to read one of the new comic books you’d found a bit ago, leaving with a, “goodnight, dudes.”

Then, it’s just you and Joel again.

He cleans up the food as you pull back the blankets on the bed to assess the sheets. You decide on grabbing your sleeping bags and unzipping them to use as blankets instead.

“The ones on the bed are pretty gross,” you say when Joel peeks over at you, like you needed to explain yourself.

Joel knows you well by now, knows your tells and quirks, and he can see that you’re nervous, off, hands smoothing out the sleeping bags shakily.

“I can take the floor if you’re uncomfortable,” he says, walking over to you.

“No!” You answer quickly, “it’s not that. I’ve just- um, never shared a bed with anyone before.”

“You don’t have to do anything different. Just gotta sleep, okay?”

Right, just sleep, this isn’t special. You’ve gotta get a grip.

“Yeah, okay.”

“If you’d rather we can put the pillows in the middle.”

There he goes again, caring for you in small, simple ways that speak volumes.

“No, that’s alright.”

“Best get some sleep, then.”

You nod, and Joel walks around to the other side of the bed. You both climb in, laying on your backs for a bit. You can't seem to sleep, and he seems to notice.

“You good?”

“Huh?” You turn your head to look at him, cheek against the pillow, “yeah, fine.”

Joel lays on his side to face you, a distance clearly left between your bodies, “try to sleep, will you? You need it.”

“So do you.”

You’re on your side now, too, head level with his.

“I know.”

Your hand lays by your face on your pillow, and Joel’s hand inches towards it, his pinkie brushing against yours. You reach yours back, and then, your fingers are locked.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

“Night.”

You don’t know it but he falls asleep long after you, and by the time you wake, you’ve migrated, shifted positions. There’s a heavy weight over your waist, and only when you peek under the blanket do you realize that it’s Joel’s arm.

Then, you realize your head isn’t on the pillow anymore, but on his chest, the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear.

Rather than shift and wake him, you close your eyes and get a couple more hours of sleep, smiling at the discovery that Joel Miller is a cuddler.

726 notes · View notes

letaliabane · 1 year

Text

Guys look what I found 😭 found on make up artist @cocoullrich insta!!

#the last of us #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #hbo last of us #last of us #last of us imagines #joel miller imagines #joel miller #ellie miller #ellie Williams #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader

963 notes · View notes

honeyedmiller · 4 months

Text

Dawn’s First Light | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: jackson!joel, super fucking soft!Joel, sickeningly sweet fluff, joel is philosophical for .2 seconds in this, smut (f oral receiving, unprotected piv), praise, a whole lotta softness, sweet pet names, no use of y/n.

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: joel tells you he loves you for the first time.

a/n: i literally whipped this up so quick after i reblogged the post that had a quote from jean-paul sartre’s no exit. hope you enjoy.

divider by @saradika-graphics

Soft.

Soft was the first thing you felt as you woke up, then, rough.

Coarse hairs dragged across the velvety skin of your thighs. Your eyes slowly fluttered open and you squinted, your pupils slowly welcoming the winter morning sun shining through the curtains of your shared bedroom.

A hot tongue licked at your skin, up up up until it met your already sopping core. You gasped softly, relishing in the feeling of your boyfriend waking you up in the most delicious way possible.

Early on in your relationship, you both agreed that getting awoken in such a way would be no problem whatsoever.

Joel was meticulous with his tongue, the strong muscle taking its time as he worked it through your folds and into your entrance, then back up to circle your clit. His plush lips latched onto your swollen bud, and you cried out his name in pleasure.

You moved the comforter down that he was buried under until you uncovered his head, nestled perfectly between your thighs as he lapped away at your slick core. You bit your lip as you stared down at him, blunt nails digging into the soft of your flesh as he took his time with you.

Every sense in your body was heightened, spine tingling as you felt the slow pull of an impending orgasm. Joel’s eyes flicked open, gaze trailing up your bare body until his eyes locked onto your face.

Your jaw was slack, pupils blown wide and eyebrows threaded together. He offered a small smirk as he kept working you, loving the way you writhed underneath his expert tongue.

Your hand slid down to intertwine your fingers with his soft locks of thick, graying hair. He moaned into you as you pushed his face closer to your aching, pulsing core, grinding your hips up to match the rhythm of his tongue.

He releases one of your thighs and moves his fingers up, detaching his mouth from you as he slides his thick digits through your glistening folds.

“Mornin’ baby,” He breaths, a smirk stretched onto his slick-coated lips. You moan softly as he easily slides a finger into you, burying it down to the first knuckle. “Taste so goddamn good, darlin’. Sweeter ‘n honey.” He’s nearly breathless and his words are slurred with sleep. He kisses your thigh and slowly adds a second finger into you.

“Joel,” You’re a whimpering mess, and he fucking loves it.

“Tell me what y’want, baby. Tell me n’ I’ll give it to you.”

“You,” You gasp, grinding your hips into his hand desperately. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” He whispers, leaning down again to suckle on your pulsating clit, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a delectable pace. He curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you squelching and moaning and fucking crying. You were a mess under him, trying so hard to catch your breath as that warmth that bloomed within you shot up your spine.

Reality crashed down around you as your orgasm washed over your entire being, hips stuttering from his tongue cleaning up everything you gave him.

“So perfect.” He says, kissing your thighs before trailing his slick lips up your body, licking your sternum before placing chaste kisses on both of your breasts.

You tug on his hair gently as he flicks his tongue over your skin, wrapping his mouth around your nipple for a few seconds before moving to the other. He releases you from his mouth before he kisses your neck, biting down on your pulse point ever so slightly before kissing your jaw, your forehead, your nose, and finally—your lips.

“My sweet girl,” He breathes, forehead resting against yours. “Did you sleep well?” He asks, cradling your cheek in his large hand. You nod and smile up at him, bringing him down for another kiss.

“I did. What a nice way to wake up, too.” You giggle, and he smiles before kissing your nose.

“My favorite way to wake you up, besides the multiple kisses.”

Joel Miller normally wasn’t a soft man. It’s you who made him this way, just for you. It’s you who only got to see this loving, caring side of him.

You, who’d charmed him with your wit and sense of humor and your pure tenderness. He had come into Jackson only a few weeks after your arrival, so you both navigated this life—this safe, luxurious bite at the cherry—together.

He’d easily taken a liking to you. It started off with sitting with each other in the mess hall for meals, then he’d walk you to work when he could, and then it turned into him confessing his feelings for you after he’d had a tough patrol one spring day.

From then on, the two of you seemed nearly inseparable. Jackson was a safe grounding—a haven—for many, if not all residents here.

Joel was yours.

Joel’s lips on your forehead drew your attention back to him, and you offered a soft grin as your nails trailed down his thick torso. You reached the tuft hair above his cock, hard and leaking pre come. Your lips curled into a saccharine smile, giving his silky flesh a few tugs before swiping your thumb over his slit. You brought your thumb into your mouth and sucked on it, humming at the salty taste of Joel.

“Need you, baby.” His voice is strained, and you move your hand back down to slide his heavy cock through your folds to coat him with your slick.

“I’m yours.” You repeat his words, and he kisses your forehead once more as he pushes into you. He sits up, hands grabbing your hips. He circles his thumbs into your warm skin, pushing and pulling himself in and out of you at a languid pace.

You grasp onto his thick thighs, always needing to be touching him in some way.

“Feel so goddamn good, baby. My sweet girl. Takin’ me so well, honey—shit. That’s it.” Joel murmurs his words, eyebrows pinching together as you rut your hips up to meet his every thrust. The friction of his coarse hair at the base of his cock on your clit is otherworldly, eyes rolling back at the sensation of pure bliss.

Joel’s pace picked up, maneuvering himself so he was hovering over you. He gripped onto your ankles and tossed them over his shoulders, gripping onto your flesh for dear life. He kissed the inside of your lower calf, grunting and puffing air as he moved his hips expertly.

“Joel, fuckfuckfuck, please don’t stop.” You cry as he pistons into you at that perfect angle—the one that has you seeing the whole goddamn galaxy.

“My perfect girl. You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I—fuck,” Joel groans, moving a thumb down to swipe over your sensitive clit, making you gasp loudly.

The sensation is almost too much, but it’s a welcoming devastation of bliss that ripples through you when that heat shoots through your body once more.

“Can feel you—shit, yeah—I can feel you sweetheart. Let go. I got you.” Joel’s desperate voice reverberates off of the bedroom walls, trying his damndest to hold off on his own release until you come first.

Just as he’d thought, it wasn’t far off at all. You cried his name repeatedly as the euphoric feeling overtook your body.

JoelJoelJoel.

Everything about him was all-consuming as you convulsed around his cock. A string of curses spilled out around his clenched teeth and through his lips, pulling out of you as thick spurts of his come landed on your stomach.

He puffed air into your leg, kissing it one more time before looking down at you. Gorgeous: fucked out, glossy eyes and a smile that could end wars.

He knew. Right then, he knew.

He loves you.

He has to tell you.

He gently set your shaky legs down onto the bed, getting up to retrieve a wet washcloth to clean you up. Once the warm washcloth was carelessly tossed onto the floor somewhere, he climbed back into bed with you and slung his arm around you so you could cuddle into him. He carefully pulled the comforter up again, covering your bodies.

Your hand played with the fingers of his hand that was slung over your shoulder, an unforgettable serenity wrapped around the two of you in that moment.

“Much more likely you’ll hurt me,” Joel starts, voice gruff, “Still what does it matter? If I’ve got to suffer—” He pauses, bringing your free hand up to his lips to lay a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “It may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands.”

“Sartre.” You say softly. He nods.

“I love you. I love you so much that it fucking hurts. I—I couldn’t imagine living this life without you, anymore. You’re my person.” His voice is a whisper.

Your eyes fill with tears, and you look up at him. He has a hopeful look in his eyes, and you saw that familiar thing flash within them. You never knew what that thing was, until now.

Love.

This man loved you.

Just as you loved him.

“I love you too, Joel. There’s no one else on this damned planet that I’d rather be with than you.”

He kisses you tenderly, and you pull away with a whisper to your lips.

“There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.” You quote to him, rubbing your nose against his gently.

“Sartre.” He says. You nod.

You kiss him once more, dawn’s first light now a shining beacon of pure hope… and love.

tags: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @punkshort ; @undrthelights ; @pascalpvnk ; @joelsgreys ; @amanitacowboy ; @pamasaur ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @javierpena-inatacvest ; @mrsmando

(if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know!)

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagines #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader

1K notes · View notes

alloftheimagines · 1 year

Text

joel miller | don't let me drown

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.4k

warnings: drowning, hurt/comfort, angst, lil bit of nude cuddling for warmth reasons but nothing steamy, strong language, inspired by ep six but i changed it up so the bridge is unsteady for the purposes of *drama*. hint towards age-gap with reader in their thirties. they/them pronouns. no y/n.

synopsis: in which the reader falls into the river of death, and it's joel's job to save you and find shelter. featuring ellie. not requested!

You used to think snow was pretty. Magical, even. Now, you only think it’s a bitch to travel through, especially on foot with the harsh mountain winds blowing off the river.

Of course, you can’t complain because the fourteen-year-old and fifty-six-year-old aren’t, and you’re probably supposed to be fitter than the two of them put together. But inside… fuck. You’re exhausted, freezing, and desperate to get to your next destination so you can sleep on something other than ice and mud.

When the bridge comes into view, relief washes through you. If you can get away from the open water, maybe the winds won’t be so biting and you’ll finally be able to feel your cheeks again. You puff out a visible breath and glance at Joel, who is both pale and rosy-cheeked from the cold. Ellie follows behind, watchful as ever. You can’t imagine what it must be like for her, trekking so far from where she began. Seeing so much. It’s been rough on all of you, but you’ve made it through together. Whatever comes next should be a breeze.

“Keep a lookout,” Joel warns, poising his handgun and nodding at you to do the same. You’ve been warned that nothing good can be found by the river, and it’s left an unsettling silence between you since you started your journey.

You dip your head, preparing your own gun as Ellie does the same. But if anything is here, you don’t see it — not on this side of the bridge or the other. It’s a rickety old thing, but if it gets you across… it’ll do.

“C’mon,” he grunts. The bridge creaks beneath your feet, and you follow Joel’s footsteps to avoid any weak spots. Until gunshots sound somewhere in the distance. You all jump, but it’s you who loses your footing as a chunk of rotten wood disappears beneath your feet. Before you can find something to grab onto, you’re falling, screaming, clutching thin air. Joel yells your name with a fear you haven’t heard in a while, but his voice is lost as the rushing water swallows you up.

Freezing. So cold it makes you burn. The river turns your world grey and endless, as though you’re floating in a void. You thrash, trying to kick up to the surface, but the shock is jolting through you, making you numb, and you can’t remember how to use your limbs.

You cough and gulp down an unbearable amount of water, and that’s when you know. There’s no air, no way of making your lungs work. They just keep burning, squeezing for something that no longer exists. Your vision goes blurry and then disappears completely.

***

Joel watches it in slow motion. The splintering bridge. The fall. The ripple in the river as it chews you up and doesn’t spit you out. He doesn’t realise he’s screaming your name, doesn’t realise he’s even running, until he reaches the other side of the bridge.

“Stay there!” he orders Ellie with a warning finger, fear ricocheting through his voice, through the trees. You’re gone is all he can think. You’re gone, and he can’t fucking do this without you.

His knees ache as he half-sprints, half-slips down the embankment, kicking snow into the river. After shucking off his shotgun and placing it down, he takes off his jacket in a moment of clarity, knowing you’re going to need something warm. And then he’s plunging into the river, cursing at its low temperature. His teeth chatter as he shouts your name, searching for any sign in the steadily flowing water. But there’s nothing. He dives under when he gets closer to the bridge, skin becoming ice as he searches the murky depths.

He has to come up for air twice before he finds you sinking to the riverbed. He’s never moved so fast, snatching you up in both arms and pulling you to the surface. You’re deadweight in his arms, and panic lances through him when he finds you’re eyes closed.

He calls your name again, urgency sharpening his words as he pulls you to the embankment. Despite his orders, Ellie waits there, eyes wide and afraid. He doesn’t have time to scold her. He’s too busy carrying you out, water pooling at his feet as he staggers to solid ground and lays you down.

“Baby?” He shakes you, droplets falling from his face and onto yours as he kneels over you. “Come on. Come on, baby.”

He presses an ear to your chest: finds no sign of breathing.

“Shit.” He begins compressions then, counting to thirty before giving you mouth to mouth. Your lips are ice cold, and so are his, his knuckles reddening as he presses the heel of his hand down again and again and again. “Come on. Come on. Breathe.”

“Joel,” Ellie whispers, terror in her voice.

He squeezes his eyes closed, unable to face what it means. What might be happening. He isn’t losing you today. Not any day. “Come on. Come back to me. Come back to me, darlin’.”

Your breath gutters, and instinct has him rolling you onto your side as you cough up more water than any person should be able to.

“Fuck,” he’s saying, rubbing warmth into your shoulders. “Ellie, grab my coat.”

She does, and he wraps it around your quivering body before pulling you close. “I got you,” he’s whispering. “I got you, darlin’. I'm here."

More coughs leave you, and he brushes your hair off your forehead to look for any sign of injury. Your lips are blue, and it terrifies him. Cold water shock can kill, and the way you went under… Shit, it’s a miracle you’re here, upright.

You’re shivering so violently that he knows the worst isn’t over. Hypothermia. Pneumonia. Those are just some of the things he’ll have to watch for. He can’t take you anywhere like this, can’t protect Ellie or you, but you can’t stay here either. You need to warm up. You both do.

“We need to find shelter. Somewhere to light a fire and get warm.”

“I saw some rock overhangs deeper in the woods,” Ellie said.

“Can you grab the bags?”

“Yeah.” She slips a backpack on each shoulder and then props Joel’s shotgun under her arm. Not ideal, but he can’t think about that now either. Not when you’re barely opening your eyes.

He breathes your name and then: “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

A faint nod.

“Good. That's good. We're gonna get you warm.” He pulls you into his chest, hooking an arm under your knee and the other around your back. You sink into his warmth, but you’re so limp that it terrifies him as he carries you up the embankment, following Ellie’s lead.

Sure enough, she guides you both to a deep overhang beneath snow-topped crags, and he dips his head to fit in the low space. He places you against the wall, already unravelling the bed rolls.

“Get a fire going,” he says. He’s certain that he had a few matches left last time he checked, and Ellie rifles through his bag before producing them. With shaky hands, she gathers a pile of sticks and surrounds them by rocks just like he taught her before lighting the match and letting it spread.

The twigs are damp and produce a lot of smoke, but sure enough, an amber glow lights the dark shelter a moment later.

“That’s it. Good,” he whispers.

Ellie glances at your hunched form warily. You’re so pale, so cold you’re practically convulsing. “Are they gonna be okay?”

“Have to be,” Joel mutters. He slips off your sopping wet coat and sweater, and Ellie turns away as he gets rid of the rest.

“You still with me?” he asks you.

You hum in response, folding into yourself in your nudity.

“Here.” Covering her eyes, Ellie hands him a spare long-sleeved shirt and a pair of sweats from her own pack, luckily from Bill’s stash of adult clothes.

“Thanks,” he replies, urging your arms up so he can slip on the shirt. It’s an uncomfortable ordeal with your clammy skin, but he needs you warm. Now. Even when you groan, skin no doubt stinging painfully. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

He has to pull you up for the sweatpants, and then he’s rolling thick thermal socks onto your feet and tucking you into blankets and bedrolls. “How’s that? Feel warmer?”

You shake your head, and he helps you shuffle closer to the fire.

“Now?”

A nod that has him relieved. He can’t help but place a kiss on your damp forehead, realising too late that he’s cold and shivering too. He only has another flannel in his backpack, though, and he can survive until he’s at least gotten you warm. Protecting you from his damp clothes using the bedroll, he wraps his arms around you to keep in the heat.

“Gave me a damn heart attack,” he mumbles into your hair, squeezing his eyes closed to chase away the darkness creeping in. The thought of losing you. All the other scenarios where you didn’t end up here with him after the fall. He should have been smarter. Shouldn’t have taken you across that damn bridge.

The ghost of a smile crosses your flame-lit face. “Sorry." And then: "You’re… cold too,” you rasp between shivers. “Get in here.”

He glances at Ellie. No way in hell is he going to strip off with her here. As though understanding, she raises her brows and shifts away. “I’m going to go find out if bears really do shit in the woods.”

“Don’t go away,” he orders. “Just… give us a couple minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” She disappears, and her crunching footfalls outside keep his concern at bay.

His concern for her, at least. Your face still lacks colour, your breaths sounding watery and wrong even now. He grinds his teeth, reluctant to pull away from you for even a minute. But if he dries off, he can give you his body heat, so he quickly tears off his clothes and replaces them with the one dry shirt he owns. He doesn’t bother buttoning it up, instead crawling into the bedroll with you and enveloping you in an unyielding hold. You lean against him, eyelids drooping but shivers finally beginning to ease.

He begins to warm up after a few minutes and can only hope you are too. When he notices your eyes closed, he stiffens. “You still with me, darlin?”

“Think so,” you murmur, your cool hands travelling across his bare chest. He tries not to flinch as he directs them up to his chest. His mouth. He kisses your knuckles before cupping his own hands around yours and blowing. Then, he rubs, generating friction.

“Keep talking to me,” he pleads.

“‘Bout what?”

“Anything.” Anything, as long as you don’t leave me. As long as you stay. “What was your favourite book growing up?”

You were barely fifteen when the pandemic hit all those years ago, but you smile as you remember that old bookshelf your dad put together full of worn paperbacks. “You don’t read, Joel. You wouldn’t know even if I told you.”

“So tell me about it.” He’s still using his hands, pushing feeling back into your body bit by bit.

“I’m okay,” you whisper finally. “I’m okay, Joel. I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know that.” But he won’t stop, won’t give up, even when your cheeks turn pink once more. God, he’s missed the way you glow like that, the way it looks brighter in the snow.

You take a ragged breath. “I liked Gulliver’s Travels.”

“Yeah? Who’s that by?”

“Joel…” Your eyes flutter shut. “Please. I’m tired. I’m warm. I’m okay.”

But he can’t trust it after he’s just put breath back into your lungs; can’t trust it to stay there. He holds you tighter, placing a gentle, terrified kiss into your hair, even if he’ll never admit that he is terrified. That he can’t breathe if you’re not breathing. He realised that the moment he jumped into the river without caring if it got him killed too.

You’re all he has to hold onto, and he could never let you drown.

“I just need… I need you to keep talking to me for a little longer, baby. Just until I know you’re okay,” he says.

“Okay.” So you tell him about your favourite book, drifting in and out of the conversation. Soon, you stop shivering against him and the bedroll warms with two sets of body heat, just as he’d hoped. The fire keeps up until Ellie finally comes back to refuel it with more sticks, offering Joel a smirk that he returns with a gentle glare. You barely seem to notice, still muttering.

“Sounds like a great story,” he says finally. “I think Sarah had that one.”

“Yeah.” You smile, cheeks swelling this time as you nestle into his chest. But then you cough, and he frowns. God, is this what it’s gonna be like now? One cough’ll leave him frozen with fear?

“I can read you guys a great book!” Ellie volunteers, and of course pulls out her pages of puns.

Joel groans. You chuckle, and his heart warms at the sound.

“Tell me the one with the penguins again,” you ask.

Ellie grins and flips through the pages, and you get a million more cheesy puns that make you laugh until you can no longer hold your head up. You’re certain Joel’s bare chest ripples with stifled amusement at some points.

“Joel?” you ask as Ellie turns the page.

“Yeah.”

“I’m so tired.”

Another wave of dread. He masks it clearly, examining your features. You look and feel warm, and you sound like you. If you need the rest, he can’t keep asking you not to take it for his own selfish reasons. For his own pathetic fear.

Finally, he surrenders. “Okay, darlin’. Get some sleep. We all need it.”

“Night,” Ellie says, getting comfortable in her sleeping bag.

Your eyes shut instantly and don’t open again, but your chest rises and falls smoothly against your interlocked hands. He listens to it as the shelter quietens, the fire getting lower. He listens all night just to make sure you’re still breathing. When light returns the next morning, he finds Ellie has done just the same, wide awake and unwilling to tear her gaze away from the two of you.

“They’re okay, right?” she asks.

Joel can only hope that it’s the truth when he says, “Yeah. They’re okay.”

“Good.” She nestles into her makeshift pillow — her backpack. “You’re a real grouch when they’re not around.”

He rolls his eyes, tempted to point out that he is always a grouch, though Ellie’s right. He needs you. He will always need you.

And god, he hopes he never comes close to losing you like that again.

2K notes · View notes

heartpascal · 1 year

Text

check under the doormat

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

▹ — summary: settling down fully in jackson means new friends, and more patrols. what could go wrong?

▹ — a/n: 9.7K words here guys … and i cannot tell you what is in here. anyway. hopefully its decent. i feel like i just have very little memory of writing all of this, tis all a BLUR!! one second it was two paragraphs, the next its this??? anyway. hope yall enjoy (pls be nice)

▹ — warnings: angst (as always), blood, injuries, food & food hall, teasing, infected + humans, canon typical violence ofc, father figure miller bros, slight suggestion of a dead horse, swearing, not proofread

▹ — general taglist: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

howl’s song association!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

As much as you had grown to love the town of Jackson, one thing that you couldn’t seem to grow fond of was how loud and obnoxious the dining hall was. You understood, of course, a community eating space where people could socialise and eat and enjoy the company of other residents, it was going to be loud.

But you hated it.

You were used to quiet eating times, or at the very least, quieter. Before Ellie, eating times often remained silent, rushed, especially when you were out on a trip with Joel and Tess. There hadn’t been time to chat. Even when Ellie had tagged along, it wasn’t too loud, because she was mostly forced to talk to herself.

With the Millers, it remained somewhat peaceful at dinner time, the occasional teasing before you focused on shoving your food into your mouth, never quite getting the hang of slowing down. After all, you’d always lived life in a rush, constantly forced to hurry up when eating to save daylight.

In the hall, people laughed and talked and even shouted. It was off putting for you, and you couldn’t quite grow comfortable around it, even when you tried to sit as far away from the rowdy groups as you could, taking a table that sat right along the edge of the room, opposite where you grabbed food.

Most people in the town gravitated towards the noise, crowding in the middle of the room, which was why you were so surprised when you saw someone sit down at the other side of your table, placing a plate in front of them and gazing at you from the corner of their eye.

You looked up from your plate, eyebrows furrowed when you looked at the boy sat opposite, confused why he sat at your table when there were still multiple free.

“Hi.” He said, a grin on his face, and he tapped restless fingers against the table, waiting for your response.

“…Hi.” You replied after a minute, though it came out as more of a question, your confusion evident through both your voice and your expression. The boy grinned wider, and held a hand out over his plate.

“I’m Jesse!” Jesse told you, shaking your hand firmly when you slowly reached toward his extended palm.

“Okay?” You said, watching with even further befuddlement as the boy picked up his cutlery, and began eating, looking at you expectantly. With a slight huff of an awkward breath, you told him your own name, your eyes darting around the room as he grinned widely, showing off some of the half-chewed food in his mouth.

He stayed at your table for the entire meal, until eventually he was waved away by somebody sat toward the middle of the hall. He’d been mostly quiet, other than a comment here or there which hadn’t required a response, mostly talking about how loud the other residents were. When he left, he waved wildly, not faltering even as your hand remained on the table.

You blinked down at your empty plate, completely perplexed by what had just happened.

Two days later, in the dinner hall during lunch time, it happened again. Jesse sat opposite you, his plate full of food in front of him, and he grinned in your direction, as if it answered all of your questions.

“You know, it’s much nicer in here during lunch.” He commented, looking around at the slightly quieter room, his gaze lingering on the group sat in the middle of the room. Jesse moved his eyes to look at you, almost expectantly.

“I guess.” You answered, after a moment of reluctance, and shoved another forkful of food into your mouth when Jesse grinned with a shake of his head.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” Jesse asked, amused. When you just shrugged your shoulders, hoping he’d take the hint, he continued. “Y’know, I don’t really see you around town much. I’m quite the social butterfly.” He snickered at his own words. “You don’t even eat here every day.”

“Yeah, and?” You asked, voice snarky and matching your unimpressed expression.

“Just saying.” He said, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, or so you had thought. “Where do you live?”

“Isn’t that a creepy thing to ask?”

Jesse put his hands up, tilting his head and clearly trying his best to give an innocent look. “No, it’s a small town. Most people know just because everyone is a neighbour’s neighbour.”

“Clearly not that small.” You said, and he snickered again at your response, amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Guess not.” He shrugged, shoving more food into his mouth, and you stared at him for a moment longer, before getting back to eating your own food.

It continued like that for three weeks after the first time Jesse sat with you — he’d sit opposite you, comment about the dining hall, maybe tell a joke or two. He’d ask you questions that you wouldn’t give a clear answer to, and you’d raise your eyebrows at him for all of his strange behaviours. You thought he would’ve caught on that you weren’t all too interested in entertaining him, but each time you were in the hall, he sat at your table.

You hadn’t realised quite how used to his presence you had become until you were sat in the dining hall one evening, and he didn’t show up. You tried to pretend that you weren’t searching for his face each time the doors swung open, but realised it was likely obvious you were searching for someone.

For two days, he hadn’t showed. You pretended you weren’t concerned.

Until it came to the third day, where you had arrived to the dining hall late after facing questions from Tommy as to why you weren’t eating at theirs as often, and there he was. Sat at the table you usually occupied, his head snapping up the moment you swung the door open.

You sighed, something closer to relief than annoyance, because you didn’t mind his mindless comments. As much as it surprised you, you didn’t find his presence all that off-putting.

As soon as you had grabbed your own plate of food, you made your way over, sitting opposite Jesse. He perked up at your presence, lowering his fork from where it had been pushing food around his plate. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw his face, littered in cuts and scrapes, a plaster covering his forehead.

“What happened?” You asked, before you could think better of it, and he rolled his eyes with that all too familiar grin.

“Aw, you worried about me?” He teased, his hand shooting out to grab your arm when you reached to pick up your plate, moving to stand. His teasing stopped quickly, and a smile quirked at your lips. “Okay, okay. It’s embarrassing.”

“Well now you have to tell me.” You reasoned, slightly amused already at the prospect of whatever humiliating thing had gotten Jesse in such a rough shape.

“I… fell off of a horse.” Jesse said, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, despite the way he immediately frowned, defensive. You probably shouldn’t be laughing — given that the one lesson of horse riding you’d had with Tommy hadn’t gone so well. “It’s not funny!” He defended, but a smile was creeping up on his face.

“It’s kinda funny.” You responded, still grinning at the image of Jesse just going face first off of a horse. “Okay, it’s really funny.”

“You…” Jesse trailed, shaking his head. “After all my jokes, me falling off of a horse is what makes you laugh?”

You shrugged, an amused look on your face, and said, “Maybe you need to get better jokes.”

Jesse gasped in offence, holding a hand to his chest as if the words had physically pained him, and you shook your head at his dramatics. You were glad he was okay, because you almost enjoyed his presence, on occasions.

“So this is why you wanted to come to the dining hall, huh?” Came a voice from your left, and you snapped your head over to look at Tommy with widened eyes. He was grinning, a teasing smile growing wide on his face, and he laughed. “Oh, I cannot want to tell Maria.”

“Tommy!” You hissed, scolding, your cheeks growing warm at his words. It wasn’t like that — you just wanted to know if Jesse was okay. You mildly enjoyed his jokes, sue you, and it was nice to be around a non-Miller, even for just under an hour a day. “What are you doing here?” You asked, dropping your cutlery onto your plate and glaring at the man.

“Thought I’d save Maria cookin’ and grab some food from here.” He snickered, “Had no idea what I’d be walking into.”

“Oh, are you—” Jesse started, but you cut him off with a stern look.

“No. Tommy, go away.” You ignored the way Jesse was laughing to himself, his grin wide as he looked between you and the Miller man. “Shut up, Jesse.”

“How’s the injury?” Tommy asked, amused, his grin widening when you looked between the two of them, confused. You were sure your face couldn’t get warmer — you would never live this down, you were sure. Tommy wasn’t one to let things go.

“Better,” Jesse grumbled, and you felt the slightest bit better that he felt embarrassed over his horse-related injury. “Had her worried, apparently.”

“I was not worried.” You defended, immediately, and turned to glare at Tommy, repeating your words. He just gave you a disbelieving look. “I hate you both. I’m going home.”

You stood, grabbing the plate of food and heading towards the stack of dirtied dishes. You ignored the way the two of them were still snickering behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jessie called out to you, almost shouting your name, his grin not faltering even as you sent him a dirty look over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, standing and following you, with Tommy trailing behind whilst shaking his head.

“Don’t you have a wife to feed?” You asked Tommy, eyebrows raised, and grinned tightly when he swore, heading over to get a serving for himself and Maria. “And you, go away.” You told Jesse, looking at him flatly when he just smiled at you some more, clearly very entertained by Tommy’s arrival.

“Why’re you embarrassed? You’re allowed to have friends!” Jesse responded, following behind you as you scraped off the remnants of food on your plate.

“We’re not friends.” You grumbled, shoving the cutlery into the elected trays, before placing the dirty plate on top of a pile of three.

“Hmm, I don’t believe that. You like me.” Jesse laughed, unable to wipe the smile off of his face even as you shook your head, making your way to the exit. “It’s true! We are friends. Admit it!”

You rolled your eyes, the smile tugging at the edge of your lips, but you refused it, not wanting Jesse to have the satisfaction.

He followed you out of the dining hall, still going on, “Admit it!” In a sing-song voice. It was incredibly annoying.

“Nothing to admit. Now go away.” You responded, turning your head to look at him as he followed along. “I could be leading you to a dark alleyway to murder you, you know.”

“You wouldn’t. You know why?”

“Why’s that?” You asked dryly.

“Because we’re friends.”

You scoffed out a laugh, unable to help it, because he really was kind of contagious. You stopped, turning fully around to see him grinning to himself.

“If I agree, will you go away?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, forcing your expression to flatten into something closer to serious.

“Maybe.”

“Fine,” You drawled, rolling your eyes, “You, the weird guy who sits at my table uninvited all the damn time, are my friend.” Despite the way you had described him, Jesse still smiled blindingly at your admission, his whole face lighting up.

“I knew it!” Jesse yelled, putting his arms in the air victoriously, and you shook your head, holding the bridge of your nose with one hand as he cheered. “You couldn’t resist my charming nature, beautiful looks, and unbeaten survival skills.”

You looked flatly at him, “You’re annoying, look like shit, and the only skill you’ve shown off, is how many pieces of bread you can fit in your mouth without choking.”

“Wow, harsh.” Jesse said, though his grin didn’t fall.

“Don’t take it personally, kid.” Tommy said, making you both turn to see him, two boxes of food held in his hand. He grinned, and nodded his head toward you. “She’s a softie, really.”

Your flat look just made Jesse snicker, and you shot him a glare. “You’re both annoying.”

“Mhm, whatever. Now get. Maria will wanna see you. Get yourself home, Jesse.” Tommy said, shooing Jesse away and shaking his head as the boy shot off with a wave, and a “See you later, friend.”

“I’m coming to yours, then?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs when he moved to stand at your side. “Asshole.”

“Hey! Watch your language!” He scolded, though there was no force to the words.

“Yeah, okay, Dad.” You snickered, shooting him an amused look at the joke you’d made, before you continued on in the direction of his house. You missed the way he raised eyebrows, something like shock on his face.

“God, I am gettin’ old.” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head before he set off behind you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“This is so unfair.” Jesse told you, sulking as he walked by your side, loose stones crunching underneath your feet. You just smile, almost smug, as you turn your head to see his frown.

“It’s not unfair.” You said, rolling your eyes when Jesse only pouts, slowing his pace to keep up with your own. “I’m just better. And Tommy can’t say no to me.”

Jesse slows as you approach the stables, seeing Tommy stood impatiently, his foot tapping against the ground as he waits for you to meet him. When he stops, you stop, turning to the boy who had adopted the tendency to follow you wherever you went.

“Be careful.” He warned, expression turning serious, though his pout remained.

“Jesse, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” You told him, waving off his concern with a casual pat to his arm. He frowned, and you rolled your eyes at him. “Seriously, calm down.”

“I’m calm!” He defended, a pitch too high to actually make the statement believable. “Can’t believe you get to go out on actual patrols. I’m still stuck on stupid kid training.”

“You are a stupid kid.” You snickered when he shoved your shoulders. “You’ll be out there with me, soon enough.”

Jesse rolled his eyes, about to respond when Tommy called your name, his impatience growing, and he moved to walk over. “I’m coming!” You yelled back to him, huffing at his impatient nature. “I’ll see you later, okay? To tell you all about my badass shooting.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t die.” Jesse said, and you waved him away as you made to go over to where Tommy was looking at his wrist expectantly. You snickered.

“You do know you’re not wearing a watch, right?” You asked as you approached the man, taking the rifle he held out for you without a second thought. You put it over your shoulder.

“Don’t need to be wearin’ one to know that you’re late.” He scolds in response, and you roll your eyes, not paying him much mind seeing as you were before the time he’d actually told you. Tommy just liked to complain.

With a scoff, you followed him into the stables, where the man working there for the day handed off two horses. He passed you the reigns to a dark brown horse, and you smiled, petting her on the nose.

The walk down to the gate was quiet, and you pretended not to notice Tommy glancing at you multiple times out of the corner of your eye. You knew what he was hoping for, but he wouldn’t be getting it today.

A group of those on patrol had already gathered, only a few missing, and you huffed at how early these people liked to be. The assignments had been handed out already, and a woman came over to whisper your assignment to Tommy, giving him a tight smile after she had glanced at you.

“You sure about this, kid? No shame in backin’ out, goin’ home.” Tommy told you, sighing heavily when you shook your head immediately.

“I’m doing this, Tommy. Where we headed?” You asked, watching people start to get on their horses, and head out of the now-open gate.

“C’mon. Goin’ on a trail through the woods, got a cabin out there, needs checking out.” He told you, helping you get onto the horse as you struggled to get up. You got comfortable on the saddle, smiling at him.

With a heavy sigh, he got on his horse, and led the way out of the gate.

You’d guess that he had staked out this route before he allowed you on it. It was tame, barely a sound in the woods other than a few birds chirping away. You shouldn’t have been surprised, it was definitely a Tommy thing to do. Well, a Miller thing, if you thought about it. You knew Joel had done the same thing back when you’d been with him and Tess at the QZ, before he’d let you come on any smuggling trips.

You didn’t mind it, really.

The gun still slung over your shoulder was a comforting weight, and you were just glad to be holding a weapon once again. It was heavier than the ones you were used to, contained more ammo than you could’ve dreamed of, back in the QZ days. It felt good.

Tommy stared at the woods around you, glaring as if he was daring anything to come out of them. It was almost funny. If you weren’t on edge, surveying your surroundings, you might’ve laughed. But you were on this patrol only because he had allowed it, and you were going to prove yourself.

The cabin Tommy had told you about finally came into view, after around an hour of riding, and you raised your eyebrows. You were expecting it to be… more intact, for whatever reason.

With walls made up of rotten wood, and a half burnt down barn, it definitely fit the image of a shack, rather than a cabin. The door was on the ground in front of the frame, and the fence surrounding the property may as well not be there, with how many gaps were in it.

“Well… it’s something.” You offered, pausing your horse behind Tommy’s as he stopped, staring ahead.

“Okay, let’s check it out. We’ll leave them here.” He told you, gesturing towards the horses as he swung his leg over his own, stepping onto solid ground. You did the same, letting Tommy grasp your bicep to keep you steady as you managed to get down. He took the reins of your horse, tying it loosely to a branch not far from his own horse. “Got your knife, too?” He asked, when watching you grasp your gun.

“No, Tommy, you forget that you guys took all my stuff when I first got to town?” You drawled, looking flatly as him, and he returned your expression, rolling his eyes before relenting, giving you a switchblade he’d had shoved in his pocket. “What about you?”

He unsheathed a larger blade from his thigh, waving it in your direction, and you rolled your own eyes at him, reminding yourself to not care about his safety, next time.

You put the knife in your own pocket, and gripped your gun with firm fingers as you followed behind the Miller man, eyes set as you kept an ear out for anything moving around.

The floorboards to the cabin creaked as he stepped inside, and you both cringed, stilling. When nothing came around the corner to try and kill you, Tommy glanced back at you, nodding to continue. The good thing was that there were no signs of clickers, no telltale clicking or stumbling feet. However, from somewhere in the cabin, something was groaning.

“You stick behind me, okay?” Tommy told you, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. Not that you would have argued, anyway, because you knew better. You’d rather be stuck in the backseat than him do something stupid and get himself killed trying to protect you. With your confirming nod, he sighed quietly, before continuing on with practiced light footsteps.

You raised your gun higher when the sound steadily grew louder, and Tommy grew tense as the two of you got closer. Finally reaching the room, Tommy peered into the doorway, his expression showing that he’d seen the Infected responsible for all the noise. You peeked between his shoulder and the door when he moved closer, gun raised toward the thing’s head.

It was newly turned, you would’ve guessed, as it still sounded almost human as it cried. The hair on its head hadn't thinned as it usually did with time, and on its arm, you could see the dried blood around where those raised marks originated — the bite. You wondered if the one that bit it was still around, or if this thing had had the sense to shoot it while it had been human.

Stepping into the room, Tommy pulled the trigger, as the Infected turned its head at the noise, mouth opening to let out a shout before it was interrupted by the bullet. You jumped, not expecting the sudden gunshot noise, and you had forgotten just how loud the sound actually was.

Everything was silent for a moment after, both of you holding your breath as you waited for something else to happen. When it was clear after a few seconds, Tommy approached the body, patting pockets and pulling out a small box of pistol ammo, which he stuffed into his own pocket. The thing didn’t have a gun on it, surprisingly. You wondered if it would’ve been here if it had had a gun on it, but chose not to voice that.

When there was a resounding cry, echoing around the hollow wooden walls, Tommy thought his heart was going to stop. There was a door on the wall beside the one you had entered, and he couldn’t tell which way the sound was coming from.

“The corner.” You suggested, nodding over to the corner of the room, so you could have a clear view of both doors, the only possible entrances. Tommy nodded, ushering you over first, and he followed, raising his gun towards the door on the left, while he nodded you toward the one on the right.

Something clattered to the floor in the cabin, and you breathed steadily form your nose, adjusting your grip on the gun just slightly, and keeping your eyes locked onto the doorway.

It let out another yell, much closer than it had been earlier, and Tommy kept his own gun trained on the left doorway. When it smacked into something nearby, Tommy pressed his finger over the trigger, waiting.

The Infected stumbled into the right door, and the gunshot echoed throughout the room, with Tommy letting out a harsh breath as he watched you lower your smoking gun slightly, looking over the top of it to check the thing stayed down. It did.

“Nice going, kid.” Tommy said, slightly begrudgingly, but he couldn’t help feeling something like pride in his chest. You were a good kid, and he hadn't doubted you, but you hadn't let him down. You were as good of a shot in real-life situations as you were in simulated ones. Moving targets didn't prove to be an issue. However, it did mean that he had no excuse for keeping you off of the patrols he’d promised to allow you on.

You smiled. “Told you so.” You said, and raised your gun, looking through the doorway to the left as Tommy searched the second Infected’s pockets for anything of use. Coming up empty handed, he followed you through the second door, watching as you searched through drawers, the room being a dead end. You waved a box of rifle ammunition at him triumphantly. “Better check the rest of the place.”

He nodded, and you went back to following behind him, glad that at least his tense shoulders had loosened the slightest bit after the show of your skill. You could understand his nerves — you wouldn’t like to have a kid completely reliant on you, either. But you could take care of yourself.

Finally, Tommy realised that, too.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When Joel burst into the Miller home, Tommy hadn’t really known what to expect. His brother had changed over the years, much like he had, and while they remained close, things between them hadn’t been the same since Sarah. Joel hadn’t been the same.

His eyes were wide, his hair unruly, and Tommy realised he’d probably just woken up after taking the night patrol. Joel usually prided himself on being in control during stressful situations, but he was definitely not composed.

“What are you doing here, Joel?” Tommy asked, eyebrows raised as he turned to the man, holding his son in his arms. He had hoped that they could bond over this — fatherhood — but Joel had remained somewhat distant, steering clear of the baby Miller. He wasn’t expecting Joel until later on, an hour or two, at the least, when him and Ellie were meant to be joining Tommy and Maria for dinner, whilst you dined at the dining hall with your new friend.

“I ask you to keep her safe, that’s all I asked of you, and now you’re letting her on patrols?” Joel spat, his voice loud, and Tommy’s son stirred in his arms, distressed at the shouting.

He should’ve expected this — part of him did, which was probably why Tommy hadn’t told Joel about it, even when he asked what had caused you to storm out of the house, all those days ago. Tommy sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in annoyance.

“She asked to go, Joel, I’m not gonna shield her from the world.” Tommy reasoned, shifting his son to hold in one hand, now that he had stirred from where he had been falling asleep. Tommy supposed he’d be missing his afternoon nap, now. They were going to have a grumpy child on their hands, in the coming hours.

“She’s seen enough of the world, Tommy! Why do you think I left her here? You think that was for nothin’?” Joel responded, immediately, a hot feeling settling heavy on his neck as he looked at his brother. Everything he had done, everything he had sacrificed by leaving you behind, for what? For his little brother to go over his head, and disregard those decisions? You would barely even speak to him. It hurt, and it carved a pain in his chest that was only rivalled by the loss of his first daughter.

Joel thinks of those times he’d tried to reach out, tried to help you understand, and thinks of how you had rejected each attempt. The most civil interaction he’d had with you was delivering that food after the argument you’d had with Tommy — and the two of you had barely spoken.

He thinks of how this might be the rest of his life — reaching for you, and watching you turn away.

Joel knew he’d do it all again in a split second, if it kept you safe. He didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if you had joined them, didn’t want to think about the time he had almost lost Ellie, didn’t want to imagine it could’ve been both of you.

Tommy feels bad, for a moment, but he knows that you’re capable of being out there. Besides, it wasn’t like he was shoving you out of the gates on your own! The moment you gave him an inkling of the idea that you didn't want to be out there, he’d be stopping the patrols.

“Joel,” Tommy sighed, because part of him feels pity for his older brother, who struggles far more than he lets on, but he also understands your anger. Two sides of the same coin. “Nobody’s sayin’ that was for nothing. But she’s not some little kid, alright? And I was with her the whole time, nothing was gonna happen to her.”

“You’re not invincible, Tommy,” Joel said, his brows furrowed, and he doesn’t halt himself even as he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, likely drawn by the commotion he’d caused. “And neither is she. God damn it, Tommy.” He raised his hand, holding the bridge of his nose as he turned away from his little brother, trying to gain back some of his composure.

Maria stepped around him, cautiously taking the baby from Tommy’s grip, and said, “What’s going on down here?” She looked between the two brothers, waiting for somebody to answer her.

“He doesn’t want her goin’ on patrols.” Tommy said at last, after silence had lingered for too long, and he didn’t need to say much else for Maria to know who he was talking about.

“Trust me, Joel, I wasn’t thrilled about it, either.” Maria spoke, going to say some more before Joel cut her off, his hand moving from his face to gesture wildly in front of him.

“She’s just a kid!” Joel yelled out, unable to help himself. He thinks back to when the raiders came, to the way panic had gripped him as he shoved Ellie across the street toward his brother’s, and had set off toward the ceramic shop. He remembered his heart beating so wildly in his chest that he thought it might give out, especially when he caught sight of a raider, the gear too reminiscent of a night so long ago, a light shining in his eyes, blinding him, until all he could hear was Sarah. “Don’t you get it?” He asked, almost desperately.

“I get it, Joel.” Maria said, her voice so stern that Joel couldn’t interrupt, even if he had wanted to. He looked to the door on his left, catching sight of the names still written on that chalkboard, and he knows. He looked to Maria, and he could see it on her face. She knew, just as much as he did. “But it’s not our choice. All we can do is try to keep her safe, wherever she goes.”

It helps, for a moment, that there’s somebody who does understand, but then he’s just filled with something burning, and he turns away from the chalkboard before he can imagine your name written up there, next. “If she dies, that’s on you.” He spat, pointing an accusing finger at his younger brother, “And I’ll never forgive you for it.”

Tommy watched his brother turn away, slam the door shut so hard the walls shook, and feels the weight on his shoulders get heavier. He sighed, Maria’s hand on his shoulder doing nothing to relieve the burden.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Jesse’s hands were covered in wet clay, and you could only laugh as he cursed, baring his teeth at the wheel in front of him, covered in splatters of clay. “How the…” He started, trailing off and sputtering when he pressed too hard on the pedal, making a watery clay fly in all directions, including straight to his face.

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that.” You told him, pulling him away from the stool he was sat on, and watching the spinning slow to a stop, Jesse’s miserable attempt at pottery left looking even worse when you could actually see it. He was sulking, you knew before even facing him, and couldn’t help but snicker.

“Oh, shut up. Not everyone can be a damn… whatever you are.” Jesse retorted, glaring at you as your snicker turned into a laugh as he failed to find a phrase for you. “Okay, stop laughing. Stop! It’s not funny!”

You continued grinning at him, as he washed his hands clean of clay remnants, and watched as he dried them on a rag left by the sink. “Oh, come on Jesse, you should know by now that your misery brings me the most joy and entertainment.” You said, smiling sweetly at the boy who had quickly grown comfortable in your space.

When you had actually invited him, you couldn’t recall, but he had a way of just inviting himself into places. You didn’t mind it all that much, despite how tired you were after going on patrol. You were pretty sure that it was from the faded adrenaline, the rush of being back in the real world leaving you wiped out. It had been more than a few months by now since you had been out there, travelling and facing those things every day.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” He asked, jokingly, pouting at where you were scraping his failed creation off of the wheel, throwing the clay in the bucket beside the machine, where you usually threw your own failed attempts.

“Hey, you know where the door is.” You replied, not turning to look at him despite finishing cleaning the wheel as you said it. You didn't want to think about the truth of the words, or why the concept made your chest ache in a painfully familiar way. Why did you do this to yourself?

“Not going anywhere,” Jesse said, a hint of truth to his words, and you turned to glance at him, if only to give him a raised eyebrow in response. “I mean, who else is gonna tell me the story of their very first patrol?”

You shook your head at him, despite the way his words relieved the ache the smallest bit, and sighed. “I mean, when you put it that way…” You trailed, rolling your eyes when he sat himself down on another stool, leaning forward and looking at you like he was a child, waiting for story time.

As you told the story, you made it more dramatic, just for his sake, though it was entertaining you, too, even if you wouldn’t admit that aloud.

Tommy, stood outside the shop door, listened as you told it, feeling that weight on his shoulders pull him down further as you got closer to the end of your tale, laughter shared between you and Jesse at the exaggerated details. He laid his head against the frame, sighing heavily when he caught your final words, “You should’ve seen it, man. We were the dream team. Fighting off Infected, saving the cabin, one bullet at a time.”

Jesse laughed, and you joined, sure the grin on your face would never be wiped away in that moment. “You gotta convince him to bring me!”

“Hm, maybe one day, asshole.” You responded, rolling your eyes at the pleading expression Jesse was sending your way.

“Come on, I’m a way better shot than I am… potter-er.” He justified, sighing when you laughed at his choice of words, echoing it in a disbelieving tone.

Tommy walked away from the shop, unsure what to do about the weight that was getting too heavy for his aged joints.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had been around four months since you had started doing patrols, but only two weeks since you’d been doing them without Tommy. Spring had been leaking into summer when you had started, but now, the days were dropping colder, clouds looking heavier by the day.

This morning, you felt an inkling of nerves as you looked to the sky, worried about it finally storming, like the sky had been threatening for the past few days. You hated when your worries were proved correct.

“Shit, it’s getting bad out here.” You said loudly, squinting your eyes to see through the quickly-thickening snow that was falling. It was settling against the ground in deep blankets, surprisingly quickly. You didn’t think this winter would be as bad as last years, but it seemed you were proved wrong there, at least.

“Should we go find shelter?” Jesse yelled back from behind you, his hand over his eyes, trying to keep his horse as close to yours as he could.

“I don’t know if these buildings have been cleared!” You responded, feeling your heart thrum heavily in your chest as you looked through the falling snowflakes at the buildings around you. They were mostly houses, with one building that looked like it could’ve held offices.

“What other option do we have?” Jesse asked. You huffed, surprising yourself as you agreed with his thought process — you were at risk the longer you stayed out here, and the horses might not make it all the way back to Jackson. Especially as the snow on the ground got thicker, your horse getting nervous as she treaded through it. You patted her neck as soothingly as you could, looking back towards where Jesse was following, and you hated how you regretted convincing Tommy to let him come along.

You were meant to be travelling with another patroller from Jackson, but he had turned back a while ago, complaining of a stomach issue. You grit your teeth, recalling how he had nervously surveyed the clouds as the first sprinkle of snow had appeared. He had convinced Jesse it would be fine to go along without his guidance, and you hated how the two of you had trusted his judgement.

“Okay,” You relented, turning your horse to head towards a house opposite the office building. “That one’s got a garage! We can get the horses in there.”

Jesse followed you as you led the way, and you huffed a breath that disappeared between falling snowflakes, nervous for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You got off of your horse, handing the reins to Jesse where he was perched upon his own, and you hefted the garage door up with a bit of difficulty, cringing at the way the metal screeched. You peered underneath, seeing no sign of Infected as it got halfway, but your head snapped up when you heard something in the distance, barely there over the swirling winds.

“We good?” Jesse urged, his teeth chattering, and you looked at him before nodding, lifting the garage door up the rest of the way. He pulled your horse alongside him as he rode inside, and you pulled the door shut behind you as you followed.

The temperature wasn’t much better in the garage, but the lack of snow falling on you certainly helped. You let out a deep breath, watching it cloud the air in front of your face, and let your head fall back against the wall behind you.

“You okay?” Jesse asked hesitantly, pulling his wet gloves from his hands and rubbing his hands together, trying to generate some warmth.

“Yeah,” You responded, almost absently, and looked up when Jesse said your name, “Just— Just thinking of how Tommy’s gonna kill that asshole, when he gets back without us.”

Jesse smiled, scoffing out a slight laugh despite the situation, and nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah, he’s dead meat.” He let a moment of silence pass, not wanting to voice the thought that you’d also just had, that Tommy might not be back in Jackson, either. He was sent on a route in the opposite direction, to take out a dozen Infected with a small group of others. Jesse cleared his throat, shoving his gloves into his pocket. “So, when we get back, I was thinking…”

“Uh oh, this can’t be good.” You interrupted, grinning at the roll of his eyes.

“I was thinking,” He repeated, “Maybe I should introduce you to my friend, Dina.”

You raised your eyebrows, snickering at the nerves in his tone as he suggested it. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to meet your friend Dina.” You reminded, after you had seen him trying to chat the girl up. You thought she had seemed into it, but apparently that meant you weren’t allowed to meet her, lest you embarrass Jesse in front of his crush.

“I have reconsidered. Shut up.” He responded when you snickered. “Don’t make me change my mind!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d love to meet her.” You said, continuing to grin when he groaned and dropped his chin to his chest, clearly regretting making the suggestion already. He was pretty sure the two of you would team up against him. “You sit there and suffer, I’m gonna check the house out.”

Jesse frowned, moving to follow you, but you waved him away, knowing that he was annoyingly better with the horses. You thought of what had happened to him when you’d not long become friends, and grinned to yourself.

You held your gun up as you left the garage, looking in each room carefully, methodically, like you had done it hundreds of times before. You didn’t keep count, so really, you might have.

The house was empty, of almost everything, clearly ransacked a long time ago. At least a few years, you would’ve guessed, looking at the way dust and cobwebs had settled on ruined furniture, cracked family photos. You picked a broken frame up, twisting it in your hand, and frowned as you saw the way the crack marred the faces of the family in the photo.

Upstairs was arguably worse, the bedrooms completely destroyed, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the family who had lived here was still alive. You were sure they would hate to see what had become of what had once been their home, so part of you hoped they weren’t.

You looked at a wardrobe that had been completely disassembled, clothes torn out and strewn across the floor, old sentimental pieces left to rot on the dusty carpet. You stepped towards the window, moving aside the blue curtain, and peered outside at the worsening storm. You squinted at the ground, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you, until you saw that the footprints were definitely there.

And they were coming from the opposite way you and Jesse had appeared from, heading straight toward the front door.

With a new sense of urgency, you gripped the gun in your hand tightly, stepping down the stairs as quickly as you could without completely giving away your presence. You peered around the corner, seeing a mass of black clothes moving outside the frosted glass of the front door.

“Jesse!” You hissed, stepping into the garage and watching him jump where he had been petting your horse’s neck. He stood straighter, eyebrows furrowing as you shut the garage door gently behind you, gripping your gun as if your life depended on it. “We’ve got company. We need to get out of here.”

He nodded, shoving down his fear and starting to grasp the reins of the horses, beginning the frustratingly slow process of turning them around in such a small space. “How long?”

“Not long enough.” You acknowledged, ear pressed to the door leading to the rest of the house, and you heard the doorknob rattle. “Get the horses ready, I’ll buy us some time.”

Jesse said your name nervously, but you shot him down, urging him to just do what you say with a look he hadn't seen before in your eyes. You opened the door, peering around the corner the slightest bit, gun aimed towards the door. You took a deep breath, steadying your aim as they finally got it open, two rushing in immediately.

The first one went down, dropped to the floor with a single bullet to the neck, and you tried to tune out the way he gargled. The woman who followed him ducked to the side, pressing against it, and you shot the third person who peered around the doorway, saying nothing when they yelled out a curse, injured, but not dead.

You didn't know how many there were. That was making you more nervous than you could comprehend, especially as you shot a fourth who tried to enter, watching her fall to the snow outside, and trying not to focus on the blood that stained the white blanket when somebody dragged her body out of the way.

A shot far too close to you made you duck back into the garage, turning your head to see Jesse turning his horse the right way. He gave you a thumbs up when they were ready, and you nodded, flinching halfway through at the shot that settled in the wood just above your shoulder.

With a huff, you slammed the door shut, pulling a cabinet in front of it with a heave that made your arms ache, the wood far heavier than you had expected. It clattered in front of the door, stopping the people on the other side from entering as you heard several sets of footsteps rushing in, the moment the door closed.

“Get on!” You urged, reaching for the bottom of the garage door and heaving it open in one quick movement, grasping onto your horse and fighting the panic when you struggled to get on her. “Go!” You yelled to Jesse, following him a moment after when you were on your horse.

Blood was rushing through your ears, tinting the snow falling around you a faint red around the edges of your vision, and you gripped the reins tighter. When shots began firing from behind you, you leaned your chest down, closer to your horse, and tried to hurry her into going faster, unable to feel the pity you usually would for forcing speed in such terrible conditions.

A shot to the glass of the office building drew your attention, and you heard the glass shatter behind you, but your eyes were unable to turn back to see what followed when Jesse cried out, sliding off of his horse in the moment of shock.

You pulled your horse to a stop when his own rode off, too panicked to stop and wait for his rider. “Jesse!” You yelled, hand going low as you leaned to the side, using the hand he grasped onto you with to help get him on your own horse. “Come on, come on.” You urged again, your heart hammering as you saw the drops of blood that stained the snow where he had fallen. “You asshole, hold on!”

When Jesse grasped firmly onto you with one arm, you hurried your horse forward again, knowing it would only be more difficult for her with the added weight. As soon as you got to the forest cover, it would be okay, you had to assure yourself.

Groaning behind you only panicked you further, and you felt your pulse in your throat as shuffling in the snow grew louder, before some of the gunshots stopped coming, the sound of screams filling your ears.

It blurred in your mind, the moment you reached the tree cover, only just remembering to look back behind Jesse to check you weren’t being followed when you had travelled for a few minutes. You felt Jesse slipping before he could say anything about it, and you had to stop the horse when he slipped so far you only just stopped him from falling. You couldn’t remember doing it, but you eventually got him draped over the horse in front of you, and you held a hand firmly on him as you urged the horse to go faster.

Getting back to Jackson was the easiest part, with the route melded into your mind, and despite the snow that covered everything, you knew the way.

The lookouts didn’t see you until you were almost at the gate, where they yelled for you to be let in. Multiple people poured out, helping you get Jesse off of the horse as you dismounted, and watched them carry him in, with him managing only weak steps where he was held up between two shoulders. When Tommy rushed up to you, his hands grasping your face, you wondered if Jesse had been speaking to you, that whole time, because at first, you couldn’t hear his voice.

“Are you hurt? Kid, are you hurt?” He demanded, tapping a hand against your cheek when your eyes drifted to where Jesse disappeared between the gates.

You shook your head, “‘M fine. We— we got ambushed, they’re still out there.” You responded almost absently, letting out a harsh exhale and feeling Tommy’s hands fall from your face, as he swore and brought a hand up to his head. “What? What is it?” You asked, your attention finally caught.

“Joel, he went out after you.” Tommy replied, reluctantly, and you felt your heart drop.

“What?” You asked, wanting him to repeat it to ensure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, that this hadn’t been the breaking point. “Joel’s out there?” When Tommy nodded, a sense of urgency went through you, and you stepped back, grasping the reins of your horse from whoever had grabbed hold of them.

You shuffled your way atop the horse, getting on and turning her around before Tommy could quite comprehend what you were doing. His eyes widened and he stepped towards you, hands out, pleading, and you hated the look on his face as you rode away.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Your name being called in the distance caught your attention, and your head snapped towards the sound, where it was being yelled between gunshots. You swore, and rode on further, until you could finally see what faced you.

From the tree line, you could see the bodies of the people who had attempted to ambush you, half trampled by the horde of over a dozen Infected, which were swarming around as they were picked off slowly, from a house to the side of the one you had been in. You saw the glint of a gun coming from the shattered window of the living room.

Holding the reins still, you grasped onto your gun, adjusting your grip to accommodate the leather in your hand. You fired a single shot into the face of one of the runners, who was making too much progress in getting toward the window. You could only hope that it was Joel, as the sound of your name had fallen to a pause.

Between you and who you hoped was Joel, the hoard was picked off in no time, with them barely paying you any attention from your spot in the distance. Only one had come toward you, and it was dead before you could even change your aim.

“Joel?” You yelled, nerves making your throat clog up, and you squinted through the falling snow that had slowed during your shooting. “Joel?” You shouted again, louder that time, pushing past the lump in your throat.

He responded, calling your name, and you slid off of your horse, wrapping the reins around a branch and rushing to head towards the sound. When you peered through the broken window, stepping around bodies of humans and Infected alike, you saw him there, hand gripping tightly over a bleeding wound in his thigh. Joel’s shoulders fell when he saw you, a breath of relief leaving him, rushing out in a cloud that blocked the image of his face for a moment.

You stepped through the window frame, hissing when broken glass nicked your palm, and you held out your hand to help him stand. His bare hand grasped your gloved one, and you frowned for a moment, before focusing on pulling him to his unsteady feet.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, after he was finally stood on his own feet without your assistance. “You know what, don’t answer that.”

He said your name, and you whirled around to face him fully from where you had turned towards the doorway. “Please, let’s…”

“Let’s what, Joel?” You questioned, desperation leaking into the tone of your voice. “Let’s hug and make up after you almost got yourself killed? Is that it?”

“I came out here to help you!” He defended, looking at you with a pleading expression, his hand covered in blood as he pressed it harder against his leg.

“I didn’t need your help, Joel!” You yelled, hands waving in the air in your exasperation. “I had it covered. I’m not that same kid that needed saving, don’t you get that? You saved me. You already saved me, so why do you keep trying to get a do over?”

He gaped at you, for a moment, and couldn’t answer.

Joel thought of you, the face that was so much different from the one that looked at him now, thought of the way you had clung to him and Tess, as if your life depended on it. He supposed, it might’ve. He wonders if that’s why it hurt so much, that you pulled away, that it was an admission that you didn’t need him.

You stared at him, the man who had held on to you back at Boston QZ, who had done that despite the way it made his skin crawl, made his heart race. You knew now that he must’ve thought of his daughter, each time you looked to him with scared eyes, looked to him for answers, for protection. Knew that he must’ve been stuck in that day, all those years before, where he had failed at the first daughter who had looked to him that way.

“Please,” Joel repeated, because he didn’t know what else he could say, or do, other than beg you for something he wasn’t even sure he knew himself. Did he want forgiveness? “I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to. But look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, the way you gripped your gun where you had slung it over your shoulder, the way he held onto a bleeding wound. “All I ever do is fail you, again and again and again. I couldn’t keep doing it. I failed Tess. I failed Sam, Henry… I couldn’t fail you. Not again.”

You stared at him, at the open wound he wasn’t attempting to hide, and you couldn’t stop the pull of your lips as you bared your teeth at him, swallowing the lump in your throat that made your eyes sting. You wondered, then, if showing your own unhealed wound would change anything, but you didn't think it would. You didn’t think anything could change the distance between the two of you.

With the heart in your chest aching, though for what, you couldn’t decipher, you shook your head, tilting it up towards the water-stained ceiling of this house. “Joel, that isn’t…” You sighed, closing your eyes, knowing that his expression would make you crack. “No, it’s not fair. I didn’t ask you to— to come back to Jackson, to come out here to protect me. You left me behind, so what? I’d be safe?”

His chest was painful, feeling so tight he wasn’t sure it would ever rise if he let his lungs empty, so he held his breath, staring at you as you refused to look at him.

“I was safest when I was with you.” You admitted, and Joel didn’t fail to notice the past tense of that sentence. “I was scared of losing you, of losing Ellie, like I had lost everybody else. I didn’t want to see that. I wanted to stay with you both. You made my fear come to life.”

Joel frowned, not moving as you stepped forward, finally looking at him, to point an accusing finger towards his chest. He said your name, wanting nothing more than to reach out for you, to hold you close and swear he’d keep you safe, but he was starting to realise your perspective. He was starting to realise that to you, he had failed. The moment he had left you behind, he had failed.

“And I hate you for it.” You added, arms falling to your sides, despite the way your fists clenched, just aching to hit him where it hurt, to not stop until he felt how you did.

“I’ll…” He trailed off, sure his next words would be the wrong ones, but he didn’t know what else he could say. “I’ll leave, if you want me to. I’ll go and I won’t come back, but only if you tell me. I don’t wanna leave you again.”

“You can’t just… put that on me.” You said desperately, turning to the window and taking another step away from him. “I don’t want you to leave, but I’m not sure how much I want you to stay, either.”

Joel blinked away the tears that were coming to his eyes as he looked at you, feeling like the two of you were miles apart.

“I don’t forgive you.” You told him, gritting your teeth, “And I don’t know if I ever will, but I…” You trailed off, looking out to where your horse was still stood in the faltering snow, suddenly feeling a harsh pang of guilt for leaving her there. “Let’s just get home, okay?”

“Okay.” Joel agreed, unsure what else he could do. Maybe, you were right, and you wouldn’t ever forgive him. Maybe he would live out the rest of his days, with only memories of you, only catching a glimpse of you as he passed you in Jackson, with you not sparing him a glance, as if the two of you were strangers. He doesn’t know if he can quite cope with that.

He tried to hold some hope in the fact that you were here, you had come back out here, for him, as he followed you out of the door of the house, limping his way to your horse, frowning where his own had been taken down by the horde. He tried not to linger on the thought.

You settled behind him on your own horse, and it hurt his chest, thinking that this is the exact way the two of you had been when riding into Jackson the first time. He hoped everything didn’t fall apart again, like it had before.

When your forehead rested against his back, complete exhaustion falling heavily on your shoulders, Joel tried not to hope.

He had never been good at such things, when it came to you.

PART FIVE

▹ — if the door wasn’t shut taglist (all parts): @sleepylunarwolf @am-i-shit-or-am-i-the-shit @mandowhatnow @aphrcdites @doodlebob-mp3 @rrickgrrimes8 @nikt-wazny-y @fallenoutofrose @wrathofcats @kakimakiloh @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @poliars @esstark @bella820 @gtxbitch

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #joel miller father figure #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller father figure #tommy miller angst #tlou imagine #tlou one shot #tlou imagines #tlou angst #the last of us one shot #the last of us imagine #heartpascal writes

3K notes · View notes