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heartpascal · 1 year

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lock it when you leave

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO

howl’s song association!

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

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

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

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

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

You just hoped this would be different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged idly, scraping food onto your fork.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Things were getting tense in Jackson.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had taken three days for Tommy to crack.

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

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

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

“But?” You echoed, incredulously.

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

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

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He grumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART FOUR

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

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sillysillygoofygoose · 9 months

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Big Men, Bigger Hearts <3

NSFW HCS! MDNI!

A big, scary, beefy man who worships your every step. Everyone outside of your relationship is intimidated by him. His resting scowl, his strong build, his disinterested attitude. Although, you've never felt that way. You run the show, and he gladly submits.

A big, scary, beefy man who treats your heart like the most precious thing in the world. A strong, tough man who holds you like you could break into a million pieces. Who stares at you like you were sent straight from heaven, just for them. It's a blessing that he gets to be with you. A gruff man who smiles so big his cheeks hurt every time you laugh. Who feels so proud of himself when he's the one making you laugh. A "stony-hearted" man who constantly asks you how you're doing, always using a softer tone, special just for you.

A big, scary, beefy man who loves to let you ride him. He loves how ethereal you look, bouncing up and down on his dick. Gently holding onto your hips, biting back a small smile. He feels complete in your presence. Feels complete when he's inside of you.

A big, scary, beefy man who adores the way you taste, losing hours of his day just eating you out. He eats your sensitive cunt like he's fucking starving. Your small moans softly hit his ears, sweet like marmalade, making his heart pound hard against his ribcage. He loves looking up at you, his eyes watering with pure, unadulterated love as you thrash lightly under him, hair strewn all over the satin pillow under you.

A big, scary, beefy man who stays strong just for you. You're his motivation, his inspiration, his muse in everything he does. His chest heats up with pride as you feel up his biceps, broad shoulders, or thick thighs, telling him how 'big and strong' he is. He's like a puppy. Wildly loyal, always by your side. He'd give anything to protect you, to make you happy.

A big, scary, beefy man who confides in and trusts only you. Who knows, it's okay for him to show emotion around you. Your embrace could heal his wounds and could restore a broken heart.

A big, scary, beefy man who holds you close to his firm chest when you cuddle. He gently kisses your face almost routinely. Your forehead, nose, cheeks, lips... all his to love. All his to fawn over.

A big, scary, beefy man who can't wait to put a ring on your (small in comparison) finger. Who can't wait for the day he gets to see you in a beautiful white gown walking down the aisle. Walking down the aisle to him.

A big, scary, beefy man who wants to live a domestic life with his one and only. Just a huge, rough man who really isn't rough at all... especially towards the girl he loves the most.

(Miguel O'hara and Toji Fushiguro were the babies on my mind for this one <3 oh, König and Ghost too 🤭)

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

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flseur · 4 months

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꒰ 𐙚 memories — satoru gojo ꒱

⟡ synopsis : after a life-changing accident, yours and satoru's lives will never be the same. he's slowly beginning to forget you and soon, it will be as if your relationship never exisited.

⟡ content warning : gn!reader, angst, hurt no comfort

౨ৎ note : i've had idea in my google docs for over two years and it was originally for a genshin chara but i wanted to change it to satoru!

when you had first heard what had happened, you hardly could believe it. some kind of weird illness that he’s suffering from after the accident. you had made it out with barely a scratch while god just continues to deal the worst hand to satoru.

survivors' guilt? no, because he’s still alive and he’s still himself, but he’s not himself.

you know that soon, instead of having love and adoration swell in his cerulean eyes, there will be nothing. not a thought about who you are, not a single memory about you.

the doctor described it as his brain resetting. he’s going to eventually lose all of his memories, including the ones before you.

everyone that knows of his condition isn’t taking it well, they’re all trying to spend as much time with him before he fades, but what about you?

you’ve never left his side since, you’ve accompanied him to every doctor's appointment, listened to all the specialists say the inevitable is going to happen and it just feels like they’re rubbing salt into an open wound.

the two of you have talked about it, terrified for the near future. years of memories that the two of you took the time to piece together like a puzzle will become one-sided. each hello, goodbye, kiss shared, spending friday nights together in your shared apartment, the hours spent together with your limbs intertwined, will all be erased.

as the months progressed, the more of satoru’s memories regressed. you both decided it would be best if he moved back in with his family, leaving you alone in a once warmth filled home to be an empty, cold shell.

initially, satoru would be the one to suggest that the two of you should visit places where the two of you have been together.

the park where you had your first date, the bookstore where you had your first kiss with each other, hiding behind the dozens of bookshelves with you giggling and satoru whispering teasing words into the shell of your ear.

eventually, the daily calls would stop. you would reach out by calling or texting and asking him if he’d want to eat dinner at the restaurant that the two of you ate at for your second anniversary and the reply would always be the same,

“sorry y/n, i’m just not up for it right now.”

the next time you called after that, there was no answer. the second time, still no answer. the third time, someone picked up.

“hey, i’m sorry but i think that you’ve been calling the wrong number.” a voice that was on the other side of the line. except there was no love in his words, no familiarity of warmth laced through his words. they were cold. empty. this was not your satoru.

“what? no? satoru, i don’t have the wrong number..”

“how do you know my name?”

“how do I know your name? satoru, we’re enga—-”

“ah, listen. i don’t know what kind of sick prank you think this is but please stop calling me. seriously, this is really uncomfortable. goodbye.”

oh.

so it happened.

he forgot.

satoru doesn’t remember you anymore. you knew it was going to happen, but you still had some sick, twisted maybe even selfish hope, that if he was going to forget everything, he’d at least be able to remember you.

unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way.

“life is unfair.” is what you thought after that moment. for months after that moment. it flooded every inch of your mind, coupled with the now one-sided memories you had with satoru.

but, you’re starting to heal, you’re starting to come to terms with it after nearly 12 months.

today, your therapist said that the next step for you should be visiting the places that you’ve been avoiding. every place that you had a memory with satoru with. so you decided that you’d visit the park.

you turn the corner to enter it and come face to face with geto.

“oh? geto? how have you been?” you ask.

geto looks around nervously, like he’s trying to search for something.

“i’ve been good, y/n. i was actually just thinking about you. let’s, uh, let’s go get a cup of coffee, it’s on me. we can catch up more there and talk about sa—-”

“suguru?”

you know that voice. the voice that had once told you that he loved you over a thousand times. the voice that would whisper you sweet nothings, the voice that caused heat to run all over your body. you freeze on the spot, already feeling your eyes sting with tears.

“whose this?” gojo asks, looking towards you. his face holds no recollection of who you are whatsoever.

“shit.” geto swears under his breath. “this is, um, this is my friend, y/n.”

“hello, it’s nice to meet you. i’m gojo, suguru’s close friend.”

you purse your lips, continuing to try and hold back tears.

“oh, i almost forgot,” satoru says.

and you look up into his eyes, with the smallest glimmer of hope that he’ll remember you. who you are, what you mean to him, the love you held for each other. god, please remember me, please.

“this is my fiancée, yume.”

#𐙚 works #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojo x reader angst #x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #angst

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

Text

Kyojuro’s a fairly innocent guy. At least that’s what he tells himself. He’s focused on his profession, on saving the lives of those who can’t protect themselves. That doesn’t mean he’s a stranger to his hormones, by all means he’s quite familiar with them. They don’t make an appearance all that often, but they’re certainly there.

He could honestly go about his life never having sex and it wouldn’t bother him really… that is until he met you.

A mission gone wrong earned Kyojuro a month's stay at the Butterfly estate. As cheesy as it sounds, when he first woke up in that bed he thought he had died. You were beside his bed, carefully changing the bandages on his wounds. “Oh! Rengoku-Sama! How are you feeling?!” He blinked at you, lips parted as he took in what he believed to be an angel. "You don't need to reply if speaking is difficult right now..." you laughed nervously, moving to finish the half-bandaged wound. Still, he was too stunned to speak.

You quickly grew fond of each other within the first week of his stay. Bringing the pillar his meals and checking his bandages every few hours. That eventually turned into Kyojuro asking you to stay, eat with him, chat with him into the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning. By the second week, it was quite apparent to everyone that the two of you had quickly grown to care for one another.

“Beautiful as ever this morning.” You rolled your eyes, face warming as you set the tray of food on his bed for him. “You’re too much, Rengoku-san.” He smiled, he was still trying to get you to call him by his first name. Though, he had to admit you changing from sama to san in a weeks time was a good start. “It’s the honest truth, I have no reason to lie.” He thanked you for the food, smiling a bit more as you pulled a stool to sit by his bed. “Fine, you’re far too kind.” You countered, hoping it would ease your racing heart. “Really, it’s the truth. When I woke up last week, while you were tending to my wounds, I truly believed I had died and you were an Angel.”

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t joking, not one bit, and that made you feel warm all over. “You truly find me beautiful?” You commented softly, watching as he began to eat. He nodded, wild hair bouncing as he focused on you again. “How could I not? Your beauty was enough to render be speechless.” You had to turn your gaze, if you kept looking at him you were certain you’d burst into flames. “If it says anything at all, Rengoku-san… I find you very handsome.” You met his gaze, eyes widening significantly when realized how red his face was turning.

By his third week there, the tension between the two of you had grown significantly. “Is something bothering you?” You swallowed, sitting on his bedside to begin dressing the wound that had landed him here. It was making steady progress healing wise but it still needed to be treated and re-bandaged every day. Your fingers ghosted over his side, just above the wound. He turned away, face red as he focused on the bed sheets. You had seen him shirtless every single day for the last three weeks. Now, he couldn't handle it without feeling some type of way. Not embarrassment... quite the opposite.

He wanted you to see more… feel more. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply before responding. “No… nothing is bothering me.” You weren’t content with that answer, packing gauze over the cut before grabbing more to begin wrapping. “Then why are you so avoidant all of a sudden?” You had to wonder if he felt it too… was that why he was withdrawing? “I…for your own sake.” He grounded out, face flushing a deep shade of crimson as he focused on his hand fisted in the sheets. “For my own sake? That sounds like you’re dangerous.” You teased, ignoring the way his knuckles turned white with the strength of his grip. “Maybe I am… I don’t know how to put this without crossing a line…” you stopped mid-wrap, looking up at him with a quirked brow.

“I think I know where you’re going with this Ren…no… Kyojuro.”

That got his attention back on you, eyes wide and lips parted. Again, he seemed too surprised to speak, so you carried on. "I like you... a lot. More than a friend, much more than that actually…” you wanted to scream how much you wanted him, hands shakily going back to wrapping. “Y/n…” his voice was lower than you’d ever heard it, your eyes peaking up at him through your lashes. “Hmm?” He was looking at you with flushed cheeks, pupils dilated. “I need you.” You didn’t need to ask him to clarify, the intentions were made loud and clear. “You’re still injured…and we’re in the infirmary… someone could hear… or see… I’m technically working…” What you really wanted to say is that it would be indecent of you to get fucked by your patient. “I don’t care. I need you.”

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lvrdrafts · 9 months

Text

Rescued by Love Part 1

★ Summary: Your brother Steve always hated you after your mother's death and when he finally gets the family's empire he is ready to sell you off to some toxic marriage but will the knight and shining armor save you or make it worse?

★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

★ Warnings: Arranged Marriage

★ Word Count: 2,000+

★ Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Masterlist

From the moment you took your first breath, you carried the weight of a past you didn't fully understand. It was a past overshadowed by the loss of your mother – a loss that your older brother, Steve, held against you.

As far back as you can remember, there was always a palpable tension in the air whenever you were around Steve. His eyes held a mixture of resentment and sorrow, a constant reminder of the day your mother's life slipped away while giving birth to you. A day that, in his eyes, marked the beginning of his own torment.

Your father, desperate to mend the frayed threads of your family, tried tirelessly to bridge the gap between you two. He believed that time and shared experiences could heal the wounds that festered beneath the surface. But no matter his efforts, Steve's heart remained encased in ice, his bitterness toward you seemingly unbreakable.

★

15 years later...

The air was alive with the beat of the music and the laughter among the people at the lively party. Steve and Bucky stood by the refreshments table, each holding a drink and engaged in a casual conversation

"So, have you talked to Sarah lately?" Bucky asked, leaning against the table. Steve shrugged, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Yeah, we caught up yesterday. She's doing okay, just busy with school and all."

Bucky chuckled, nudging Steve playfully. "You know, I think she's got a crush on you." Steve's cheeks flushed slightly, and he rolled his eyes. "Come on, Bucky. We've been friends forever. It's not like that."

As they continued chatting, you stood at a distance, watching them with a mix of envy and loneliness. You'd always felt like an outsider, never quite fitting in with the crowd.

Seeing Steve and Bucky laughing together only accentuated your isolation. Summoning up your courage, you decided to approach them. You took a deep breath and walked over, hoping to join the conversation and maybe finally feel like you belonged somewhere.

"Hey, guys," you greeted softly, a small smile on your face. Steve and Bucky turned their attention toward you, their expressions changing ever so slightly. Steve's smile faded, and his brows furrowed as if he was annoyed by your presence. Bucky knew how this would end and a part of him felt bad.

"What do you want?" Steve snapped, you'd heard that tone so many times. But still, you were taken aback by his sharpness, and you stumbled over your words.

"I just thought... I mean, I don't really know anyone here, no one really wants to talk to me... and I thought maybe I could join you guys."

Bucky shot Steve a sidelong glance, his eyes silently questioning the change in his friend's demeanor. Steve's lips twisted into a bitter smile.

"We're not in the mood for your company. Just go find someone else to annoy." Bucky shot Steve a look, clearly taken aback by his friend's harsh tone. "Steve, come on."

Ignoring Bucky's protest, you felt a lump forming in your throat. "Please I promise I won't bother you and-and I—"

Cutting you off, Steve's frustration boiled over. "Well, maybe you should've thought twice before showing up. People like you shouldn't be at parties like this."

Your heart plummeted, a mix of hurt and humiliation washing over you. Swallowing hard, you turned and hurriedly walked away, tears stinging your eyes. You found a quiet corner where you could be alone and tried to hide your face as you wiped away your tears.

As you huddled there, Bucky's voice reached your ears. "Was that really necessary, Steve?" Steve's response was cold and unapologetic.

"Yeah, it was. She's always been nothing but trouble, if it wasn't for her I would have still had my mother."

Bucky sighed, a mixture of disappointment and frustration in his voice. "You still didn't have to be so harsh. She's just a kid who wants some friends. You don't have to be an ass about it."

Steve shrugged, a stubborn set to his jaw. "She needs to know her place."

★

7 years later...

The corridors of the mansion stretched out before you, each step echoing the weight of my uncertainty. Ever since your father had succumbed to Alzheimer's and the grip of illness, Steve had ascended as the new head of your family's sprawling mafia empire.

It was a shift that had altered the dynamics of your life in ways you couldn't have imagined. With hesitant determination, you made my way toward Steve's office, a heaviness in my chest that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

Even if he didn't love you, you were still determined to try even if it would take a million years so like every day you brought him lunch even though you knew he was probably going to reject it.

As you approached the slightly afar door, fragments of conversation reached my ears, stealing my breath away. "...marrying her off to Jason Storm," Steve's voice cut through the air, a sentence that hit like a sledgehammer to your heart.

Jason Storm – a name that carried a reputation that curdled your stomach. A man who was known for his cruelty, a vicious cycle of abusing his wives. The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning – your life, your choices, was being manipulated for the sake of getting rid of you.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stumbled away from the door, your world crumbling around you. The bitterness of the truth tasted like betrayal, a sharp reminder that in this world of shadows and secrets, your well-being mattered little in the grand scheme of things.

You found yourself outside, the cool air doing little to quell the turmoil within you. The weight of your emotions was suffocating, and the façade you had tried to maintain for so long was crumbling. Your sobs echoed through the empty corridor as you leaned against the wall, your heart aching for the love and compassion you had always hoped to find within your own family.

Amidst the darkness of my despair, a voice cut through the haze – a voice you recognized as James Barnes, a name that held a sense of familiarity and warmth. "You can't do this, Steve." Bucky's words were fierce, laden with conviction.

His presence was a surprise, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that had enveloped you. You wiped your tears away as you listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest. "Why not?" Steve's voice was tinged with a coldness that had become all too familiar. "Because it's wrong, Steve. You can't marry her off to a man like Jason Storm. You know what he does to his wives,"

Bucky's words were like a lifeline, a lifeline that you had never expected to find. Steve's retort was sharp, but Bucky's resolve didn't waver. "You want to marry her, then?" At that moment, you felt a spark of something deep within you, a flicker of hope that perhaps someone was willing to stand up for you, to see you as more than just a pawn in a dangerous game.

Bucky's voice held a determination that cut through the tension. "No, that's not what I meant." And then the words that would change everything hung in the air – words that carried a mix of motives that I couldn't fully comprehend.

"Actually, I will," Bucky declared. But in Bucky's heart, he didn't want to marry you, but marrying you would be a disguise for his parents to stop nagging him while he was off with whores.

As the weight of the conversation continued to hang heavy in the air, the office door swung open, revealing Steve and Bucky. You sat there, tears glistening in your eyes, vulnerable in your moment of despair. Steve's scowl deepened as his eyes met yours, and without a word, he turned and walked away, leaving you to wrestle with your emotions alone. Bucky; however, spared you a quick smile before quickly following Steve.

#bucky x reader #mafia bucky x reader fluff #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader angst #steve rodgers sister x bucky #steve rodgers reader x bucky #mob steve rodgers #mob steve rodgers x reader

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blkgirl-writing · 7 months

Note

So. Technically... the Revivify spell only works for one minute after death.

Begging for a piece where Gale sees Tav go down in combat, everyone is fighting for their lives, meanwhile he's across the battlefield, fighting his hardest to get closer and feeling the minute they have to revive Tav slipping away...

Gale x Fem!reader

"Cold to the touch"

I have never finished a request so fast I'll be honest. This is so heartbreaking but absolutely amazing.

Tags and TWs: angst, a bit funny, some detailed graphic violence and blood, Gale in denial lowkey.

Sometimes the fights you picked should have been fights evaded

"Gale, go!" you screeched, seconds before the killing blow you your chest, blood rapidly pooling around your feet, too much blood, you whispered as you looked down with blurring vision, clutching at your skin, trying to stop the bleeding, even for a second. The last bit of your strength used to look back up at gale, and smile. your body thudded to the ground, completely and utterly lifeless.

Gale blinked. The wind knocked out of him like he was hit with a battering ram. He fractically looked around, who was close? no one. Astarion was high on the rooftop, Wyll and Karlach surrounded with no way out, everyone on the brink of death themselves. Lae'zel the furthest and least likely to help. That just left-

"Shadowheart? Shadowheart, HEAL HER!"

"I'm fresh out of spells-" Shadowheart yelled, looking back at your limp body. "I think...She's past anything I can do right now, anyway."

Gale's gaze went down to his own hands, the revive in his pocket, how many things were around him, and how much strength he really did have. Your body was getting cold, soul leaving body, time was of the essence.

"damn it" he whispered, squeezing his eyes tightly closed, concentrating on making sure he wouldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. If the thoughts of your beautiful life absent from the rest of his miserable one crept up, he'd be paralyzed, he simply could not dwell on the bleak future. "ok"

Gale forced himself forward, nearly slipping immediately and cursing himself. Running. if he wasn't out of all the magic he could muster he could simply misty step. Instead he was forced to make his way little by little while watching the last of life slip from you as the reality set in. He couldn't get to you in time. He needed to save himself and the others if there was any hope of even bringing your corpse to have a proper burial. He had to topple goblins and just stare feet away from you as your magic slipped permanently away from this world. Helpless, and tearful.

He wanted to cover you up. Clothes ripped open from your wounds, he didn't want you to feel exposed. Though, he knew you weren't feeling anything at all. But he had nothing. Once again failing himself and you when he felt you most needed it.

"There....there has to be something we can do" he held your freezing and damp hand in his own warm ones. Enemies blood pooled with your own,. the fight was won, but it truly felt wrong to say those words. He had been brushing your hair out of your eyes while the others gathered around. They'd been the furthest, so Gale had gotten precious moments alone. Muttering sentances he didn't finish. About how he had failed you. About what could have been. Maybe an I love you had fallen from his lips, but it didn't matter anymore, not if he could never hear the words he so wanted to hear back from you, from your own sweet voice.

"I don't know, I....I'm so sorry, Gale." Shadowheart softly touched gales back for a moment of comfort and caring that was so rare for her. that's how he knew it was real. "I know you cared."

I know you cared. He didn't know why those words were his breaking point, but he suddenly felt water dripping down his face. Silent tears rushing down his race. "I truly did."

"We will find a way, Gale. Have hope." Wyll crouched beside Gale on the ground. "I don't think we can do this without her."

"I'll bring her back. Somehow." Gale nodded, finally tearing his gaze away from you. Everyone stood around your corpse. Everyone with the same, grim look. Though, Wyll just looked...sad, sadness for Gales pain, and for the senseless loss of another.

Gale had to get you back to get you comfortable in camp. You couldn't stay here. Not for animals to ravage.

"I'll get her to camp for you, Gale. Don't ware yourself out" Karlach effortlessly hoisted your body over her shoulder. Gale gathered the items that dropped from your pockets on the ground, covered in grime and blood. But he simply wiped it away. He didn't want you to have to clean it off later. He'd worry about the red stains on his fingers and blotches on his clothes later. He just had to worry about getting you back, and never losing you again.

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

Tag list, tell me if you want to be added!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray

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ellabehavior · 11 months

Text

Matilda ~ JJ Maybank ✯

Summary: You’ve grown up not being able to show much affection because of your family, but JJ knows just how to heal your wounds.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of abuse, a lil suggestive content

A/N: hope y’all enjoy! request r open!

You've always been rather cautious about accepting hugs from people. Even as a young child, you might have hesitantly accepted a hug or just stood there not really knowing what to do. Likewise, expressing your love has always been difficult for you because it’s not something you would do very often inside your house hold.

Your parents never really said the words ‘I love you’. Sure, they’d sometimes give words of affirmation once in every blue moon, or they might hug you on special occasions but you never really got the feeling of true family love.

As a kid you would always watch family movies, or look at your friends parents and wonder ‘why are they so nice?’ or ‘how come they rarely argue?’

That is when you started realizing this behavior is not normal.

But once you and JJ started dating, things started to change; your displays of affection began to get stronger and more obvious.

He showed you how to love.

Your dreams, your kisses, your hearts, and your love for each other were all shared by the two of you.

You and JJ both know every last detail about one another. You were able to wipe away every tear that came from JJ's memories with kisses since you were aware of JJ's father and his early years. This may be why you two matched so well.

However, your family? You preferred not to bring it up. Naturally, your partner was aware of the awful ways in which your parents treated you, but you would never go into detail because doing so would trigger unpleasant memories.

That is until one sleepless night you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Jay” you whispered through your tears trying to wake him up out of his sleep.

“Baby?” He rubbed his eyes and seen the tears pouring down your face “Baby no, come here.” He said with a pout and pulled you in.

“JJ I had a dream about my parents and it brought back everything, and my mom was telling me about how I didn’t deserve you and-”

JJ then placed a soft kiss on your lips to calm you down.

“Calm down baby, i’m right here for you. I’ll be here all night. It was just a dream, i’m forever yours I promise.” He says in a soothing voice while rubbing your back hoping it’ll calm you even a little bit.

Since your mother called you on the phone two days earlier, he was aware that something was wrong. You’ve have been so silent since that phone call, he was skeptical about what was said, but he decided to not push it unless you were ready to tell him.

After a few minutes of crying and back rubs you’ve finally chilled out enough to tell him what was going on.

“When my mother called me two days ago, I thought it would be good and we could just catch up. I thought she'd be happy of me for where I've gone in life, but all she did was yell and tell me how she wishes I were different. I've been having dreams ever since, and I can't handle it any more.” At the end of your sentence, your voice begins to tremble, indicating another sob.

JJ immediately notices this and pulls you in tighter.

“Baby, please don’t ever believe those words. I fell in love with you for who you are, your the most beautiful girl I have ever met. Everything about you is perfect to me, the way you giggle, the way you snore, and even when you upset me I can’t find a single flaw about you.” He says with his hands on both sides of your cheeks.

“I don’t deserve to be loved by someone like you.” you whisper

“Don’t even say that.” JJ says in a serious tone with tears starting to form in his eyes. “I wouldn’t even be able to think without you, much less live without you.”

The look in his eyes was very serious. You were his oxygen, he never wanted to hear something like that from you. Without you, he wouldn't be able to breathe.

JJ finally broke the built up tension and pressed your lips together. Minutes upon minutes of the need to be closer to eachother.

You depended the kiss and pushed JJ back so you were on top of him.

“Jay” you said staring into his eyes while unbuttoning his pants.

He softly pushed you off and buttoned his pants back up. “Not tonight baby, I want to show you my love in a different way.” he breathed out

“Okay.” you said while he laid down and pushed you against him.

That night all you guys did was share little pecks, talk about stupid things, and hold onto eachother tight.

This was it, this is what you’ve been searching for since you were 7. This is what your parents swore would never happen to you, This is true unconditional love.

“I love you J”

“I love you more.”

‘I can't be who you

want me to be if who that is isn't who I am.

To love me is to accept me.’

- Baggage Reclaim

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xalicitie · 1 year

Text

Unwarranted Thoughts — Kaz Brekker (smut)

You’re a new member of Kaz’s gang of crows. You and your boss share a cryptic relationship which neither of you seem to understand how to approach, but within one night in which you attend to a dire wound Kaz receives in battle, the two of you discover your true feelings for each other.

This is only the first half of the story, I’m posting this to see if it actually gets any attention and whether I really want to post it cause I’ve never actually posted smut in my life. If it gets enough response I’ll post part 2

"Sit down here."

Kaz had a hand pressed tautly against the detrimental wound pulsating at his ribcage; blood was melting through his clothes as he stumbled into the seat. You were beginning to hurriedly gather the loosely placed medical supplies along the countertops—scrambling, to say the least. It was rare for Kaz to get injured in battle like this in battle, it sparked a panic hotter than Hell in your chest.

"You're bleeding badly." You said as you placed your hands under the running water of the sink. "Take your shirt off."

Kaz, without a word, followed your orders. Although the command did catch him off guard, he followed through without a thought.

Fleetingly, you rinsed your hands and dried them, then sped to Kaz's side, spilling all kinds of tools onto the table adjacent.

Upon facing back to your boss, It took you quite the moment to realize that he was already shirtless. The shame at your involuntarily wandering eyes set in quickly as you turned your focus to his wound.

It was nasty. A successful sword strike—any further into his core and you might've not been able to fix him up in time.

"How the hell did you get this?" You asked, splitting the silence as you grabbed a large cloth.

"I was caught off guard. Stupid bandits pulled an ambush." You quirked a brow, hoping to distract him as you readied the cloth before the wound. His chest heaved, and you just couldn't seem to decipher whether your thundering heartbeat was due to the direness of the situation or the picture of Kaz Brekker shirtless.

You scolded yourself for even considering such a thing at such a moment.

"Ready yourself. I'm going to apply pressure to the wound." You warned.

"Hurry up and get it over with." He said with a low voice.

You did just that. The moment you enforced pressure onto his side, he breathed a pained groan, eyebrows furrowed as his hands clasped the side of the chair. You tried not to think at all as you continued to try and stop the bleeding.

After such treacherous few minutes, you pulled the cloth, dripping with Kaz's blood—a grotesque sight—to see his wound had just barely stopped producing blood.

"Okay, stay with me." You looked up to your boss to see a tired, pained expression. You could see his unwillingness to completely show you that he was suffering just threading his mien, but the pain seemed to be just enough to tear through most of his armor. "Are you okay?" You asked.

"Yes. Fine." He spat quickly, harshly. "Just, keep on going."

Throughout the whole process of healing his wound, all during it you never seemed to get habituated to the sight of his bare chest. You never thought you'd live to see him so vulnerable, it was certainly novel, to say the least.

Still, you completely forced denial unto your filthy thoughts. Even if they lingered there, watching his muscles heave and move with his breaths, the twitch of his face at the pain, you told yourself they did not exist. You scolded to yourself that it was shameful to conjure up such nasty thoughts at a time like this.

"Okay." You concluded after such tense silence. The wound was cleaned and ready to be covered, and Kaz was still alive. Thank the Saints.

"Can you sit up?" You asked, and Kaz nodded. You were just about to lend a hand before he starting grudgingly lifting himself up on his own. You knew he wouldn't accept your help.

Every rise of his chest, the more your thoughts roused and resisted being denied. The more your heartbeat gained acclimation again, your lips parting, watching as his brunette hair fell before his face, eyes hidden in a shadow, only the lightest of his blue eyes apparent. You knew the look of him right now would be stuck in your mind for the coming weeks.

If Kaz saw you right now, oh you didn't dare let him get a peak of your disorientation right now. You spoke quickly to hide your adoring face. "Hold still. This is going to take a second."

With a muttered "mhm", you kneeled down before him to get closer to his wound.

You were so utterly sinful. As you wrapped the linen bandage around his waist, each little contiguity, each little brush of the skin brought you filthier thoughts. You grasped for control, and just barely—after a torturously long moment—you fixed the bandage around his wound.

"Okay, you're good." You said with finality. Kaz nodded at you, and the moment you thought it was over you began putting the supplies away. You wanted get as far away from this little crush on your newly appointed boss as possible.

"Y/n." You froze and turned back to Kaz at the sound of your name, now finally donned in his vest again. "You've been hurt, too."

His eyes led you to the cut that had been bothering you for awhile. It was just at you lower side, sitting just below your breast.

"Oh, it's..nothing." You brushed off, hoping to settle for some good rest. You began to walk back over to the supplies when Kaz called for you once more.

"Don't think you're leaving here without that being properly bandaged." Oh, Saints. "It could get infected."

There was no way out of this. You sighed audibly, relenting at his wish, more so command.

You sauntered slowly over to the chair as Kaz leisurely climbed out of it, allowing you to sit atop, as he just had done before. Kaz began again gathering the supplies while you sat, wary of what was to come. The cut was placed at a certainly tricky place.

Moments passed and he had the supplies together. His gaze fell upon your apprehensive one. You felt yourself tense at his undivided attention. "Lift up your shirt."

Your lips fell agape at the sudden words. Breathing pattern hectic once again, you followed through with his command just somehow.

Kaz slowly walked over to you. He held a wet cloth in his gloved hand, and as he approached, the air between the two of you thickened so much you felt it, each inch, as it sat between you and your boss. You were absolutely disheveled, eyes not knowing where to look.

The sensation of the cloth hitting your cut made you cringe and seethe out a strained breath. You heard his breaths, each one, one after the other, as he scrutinized you.

..You were so close.

The silence was grating and horribly tense.

You and Kaz looked at each other, and for a moment it seemed he were having the same thoughts.

Then, as each one of your filthy dreams went, you watched in utter disbelief as Kaz Brekker leaned his head in towards yours. As his unoccupied, right, gloved hand traveled towards the nave of your neck, you melting below him, moving towards him meekly. Still with no idea what was happening.

Yours and Kaz's lips hovered not even an inch before each other, both your eyes closed, relishing in the moment. Your chest fell and rose, cheeks burning, everything ablaze.

Is this a dream?

Part 2 is up!

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker fanfiction #six of crows #shadow and bone #freddy carter #kanej #kaz brekker oneshot #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #kaz dirtyhands brekker #crooked kingdom #fanfiction #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you

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crusty-chronicles · 5 months

Text

Just Friends

An: Dropping this one before I watch the first episode of the live action today!!!!! Hope y'all enjoy.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" You chastised the red headed demon as you plucked another vine from his arm. Making sure to go over the injury with alcohol before wrapping it.

"Is that so?"

You met his amused expression with a glare. How this man could be so unfazed by a literal plant growing out of him, you'd never know. How he still found the energy to be cheeky was a mystery as well.

Although you knew it wasn't entirely his fault he was this injured. That damn tournament committee was partial to blame. Sabotaging Urameshi and his friends for no other reason than them being human. Betting money was another factor. Still, if Kurama hadn't been so cocky with the first demon, he wouldn't have been through hell after.

"Absolutely. You should've never fought twice in a row. Now look at you." You gestured towards the many open wounds on his chest.

"You're covered in blood. You're so damn lucky I'm studying to be a doctor." You dabbed more alcohol than you should've on a cotton ball before cleaning the scratches on his face.

A feeling of smugness when he let out a slight hiss.

"It hurts? Good. Maybe next time you'll learn to be more careful."

It was quite the sight to see. Kurama sitting obediently while you tended to his wounds. Letting you scold him without much complaint or push back. Kurama, a demon who'd lived hundreds of years with unfathomable knowledge, allowed you to call him stupid.

The most independent and arguably the most reserved, getting chewed out by a mere human.

It was funny, too. How he seemed to subtly lean into your touch. Closing his eyes while you wiped his face and releasing a content sigh when you finished. As if he were being pampered.

"You know I got injured pretty badly too. Maybe you should come clean my injuries." Yusuke called out. Though it was mostly meant to tease the fox demon.

You turned to face him at the same time Kurama's gaze hardened. A warning look directed at the spirit detective. But he could tell it wasn't really needed as you dismissed his offer.

"What am I the team doctor? I can't do all that 'magic power' stuff to heal what you've got going on." You gestured to the various brusing littered across Yusuke's body.

"You're best bet is Yukina."

"But you've got a delicate touch."

At his flirty tone you shot up from the bed and proceeded to chase him.

"I'll show you delicate!"

Kurama watched you go with a disappointed look. Missing your warmth besides him. Although he wasn't too happy with you being here, he couldn't deny being glad to have your familiar presence near him.

He had wanted to keep you far away from this. From his past that unfortunately intertwined with his present. Trying his best not to expose you to what he really was. A small part of him was still angry at Botan for bringing you here. But then again, she'd brought a prominent figure in each of his friends' lives as well. So he wasn't the only one dealing with this. He'd rather it be you than his mother wondering where he was.

Still, you were human. And a troublesome one at that. It was surprising you hadn't gotten in a brawl with a demon yet. Especially ones that were openly cheering for his demise.

You'd always been a bit protective of him. Having met as children when you defended him from being bullied for his fiery hair and oddly green eyes. Yelling and biting at the other kids until they left. Only to turn around and tell him he was gonna be your best friend from now on.

Something he thought was odd at the time. A human telling him what to do? Then again, he wasn't all that different from you in his new body. And he needed to be able to keep up appearances until he fully regained his powers. So he accepted and let you drag him where you pleased. He let you ramble about everything and nothing at the same time. He let you comfort him when his mother fell ill.

He grew to love having you in his life. Your lectures about how he shouldn't let others taunt him, even if he was fully capable of protecting himself. Though of course you didn't know that. He admired your ambition to enter the medical field so you could help the people who needed it. He looked forward to seeing your soft side that you'd only show to him after a long day.

You'd made him feel human.

Which is why he tried so hard to hide everything about his previous life from you. If you found out you'd most likely be scared or put in even more danger.

And he just couldn't risk losing you either way.

He tried cutting ties with you once, but you were a stubborn one. After what happened with Maya, he thought it was best you kept out of his life. Going as far as avoiding you. To which you responded by confronting him.

"If you don't want to be friends anymore, just tell me. Give me a straight answer instead of acting like a coward."

He was close to telling you he didn't want you around anymore, but the way you looked at him, with so much hurt and betrayal...He just couldn't find it in himself to let you go. Instead he asked you why. Why you didn't find him strange like the rest of your classmates. Why you spent so much time with him. Why it bothered you so much that he was ignoring you.

"Is that really what's bothering you? The answer should be obvious to a brainiac like you. You're important to me, Shuichi."

He realized then that you were important to him, too.

So he allowed himself to keep you around. He deserved that much for everything he's been through. Just so long as you were a part of his human life and not his demon one.

But fate had a funny way of playing things out. He should've known he couldn't keep this part of his life a secret from you forever. He just didn't expect it so suddenly.

Hearing your voice above the others shouting at him from the stands. He thought he might've been imagining it at first, but then he caught a glimpse of you from over the other demon's shoulder. The one that had threatened his mother's life with a push of a button.

He could see that you were nervous. Frustrated would have been a better word. As if you were mad he was letting himself get hurt.

You'd called him an idiot then too, after he won. Jumping down from the stadium and rushing over. Unfazed by the bloodthirsty creatures around you.

"You're such a dumbass. Making a big show out of nothing and letting that guy cut up your face. Let me see how bad it is." You scolded as you grabbed his chin and moved his head around. Inspecting the fresh slashes on his cheek.

"You're here?" He asked, still processing the fact that you were right in front of him. That somehow you managed to find your way back to him.

"Yes??? I don't think he hit you hard enough to have a concussion."

Kurama had to step away from you. All of a sudden overwhelmed because there was no way you were inspecting his injury right now. There was no way you were still treating him like nothing happened. Like he didn't just kill someone right in front of you.

"Why?" It was the only thing he could think to ask. Rendered speechless for the first time in forever.

"Why what?"

"Why are you here? How much do you know?"

How much did that troublesome reaper tell you?

"I'm here because my stupid best friend decided to get himself into trouble without telling me. Did you really think I wouldn't worry about you being gone for weeks? That I wouldn't get suspicious?" You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe the blood off his face.

"I didn't want you involved." Came his answer. He still didn't know how much you knew. If now was the time to be completely transparent.

"Then you shouldn't have agreed to be my friend. To be honest, I'm a little hurt you didn't even bother to tell me. Let me guess, you thought I would freak out if you told me you were a demon?"

Ah, so you knew everything. Which meant so did the rest of the girls with you. He wanted to be upset at Botan's lack of ability to keep secrets, but he couldn't have been any more relieved.

"You know me almost as good as myself. Though it's surprising you're taking this so well." He allowed himself to relax in your presence. To let you continue inspecting his minor injuries.

"You really think I would care after all we've been through? For someone who's supposedly hundreds of years old, you sure are an idiot Shuichi."

"Shuichi..." He didn't know why his name sounded so foreign coming from you. Maybe a part of him expected you to call him 'Kurama' now that you knew the truth. Or perhaps he just wasn't used to hearing it when he wasn't trying to keep up appearances.

"Yeah? Do you want me to use your tough guy demon name instead? Don't wanna be embarrassed in front of your friends?" Your tone was teasing. And while he would have loved to hear his true name come from your lips, he couldn't deny liking the idea of only you having the privilege to call him Shuichi.

"No. I like it when you use my human name instead. Whatever feels natural for you."

"Alright, but you better promise not to keep any more secrets from me."

He was still cautious with you around, but it was more for your safety than anything. Though he should've been more careful with himself, too. It'd only be more stressful to you the worse he got injured. Still he couldn't promise you that he'd come out completely unscathed.

"You let that human walk all over you like the detective with his woman."

The sound of Hiei's voice brought him back to the present. Hearing the amusement that came with it at Kurama's show of obedience with you. The way he let you get after him for being careless.

"True they have a rather loud mouth, but it comes from a good place. I don't mind all that much, not when they've gone out of their way to mend my injuries. Or would you rather I go to Yukina instead?" A small jest that was made to get the three eyed demon off his back.

But Hiei knew what he was doing and wouldn't be taking the bait this time. Not when he knew he had the upper hand in this conversation.

"You'd give me the opportunity to steal your precious mate while you were distracted?" And judging by Kurama's small glare, he was right.

"... We're just friends." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. And in a sense he was. He'd never really thought of you in that light. At least, not until recently.

"Hmm." A unimpressed noise before you stumbled in.

Smiling triumphantly after having just tousled with Yusuke and an unfortunate Kuwabara who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The grin wiped off your face seeing Kurama up and about.

"Hey! Did I say you could get up and walk?!? You've lost way too much blood to be moving around! Get your ass back to bed right now!"

"I heal at a much faster rate, remember. I should be just fine." He tried to diffuse, but you weren't having it.

"You're not getting out of this one fox boy. Go lie down or so help me Shuichi, I'll knock you out myself!"

Again you'd used his human name. Who you knew him as. And despite your crude words, he could feel his heart skip a few beats.

Friends made each other's hearts beat a little faster, right?

They sometimes shared kisses with each other during a moment of celebration.

And sometimes, maybe sometimes they thought about what life would be like to wake up next to the other every morning.

"Stay with me and I won't move a muscle."

#yu yu hakusho x reader #yu yu hakusho #x reader #x y/n #kurama x reader #yoko kurama #shuichi minamino

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thewulf · 3 months

Text

Let Me Help You || Legolas

Summary: Request - hiyaa, i dont really have a specific request but could you do something along the lines of reader hiding an injury from legolas and ofc he notices and takes care of her!❤️‍🩹

A/N: As always, thank you so much for the requests. You keep me inspired and wanting to write more and more and more! Hope you enjoy my favorite price!

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k +

TW: Insecurity, angsty, fluffy

You had killed thousands of spiders in the years of them slowly encroaching on Mirkwood. It was no longer a task but an annoyance to go out and take care of a nest. The only problem was the annoyance made you careless. You’d gotten a bit overconfident in it all. In the years you had been fighting them back not one had even come close to hurting you. Until today.

You were focused on a larger spider playing with it instead of just killing it, your first mistake. The second was ignoring the creeping spider on your right thinking you had more time than you really did. When you felt the stinging sensation of the spider jabbing its poison into you, you spun around and killed it instantly. Hissing in more pain than you could have imagined you ignored it and continued to eliminate as many spiders as you could. You would be fine. You would just have to head straight to a healer once you make it back to the city. Spiders poison did not work fast enough to kill you, only make you delirious.

Tauriel gave you a quick look when she saw you walking weirdly, favoring the side that had not been stung, “Is something the matter Y/N?” She pulled you back and asked once she ordered all the guard back to the castle.

Shaking your head as nonchalantly as possible you straightened up. You had thousands of years of practice to keep your face stoic even in pain, “I pulled a muscle in training yesterday. The healer told me to keep it easy, but I fear I did not listen to her words.” You smiled to her hoping she bought your lie.

She shook her head, “Why did you not tell me? You could have sat today out.”

“And miss out killing spiders? Who do you take me for Tauriel?” You laughed ignoring the growing pain on your side. Taking a quick peak down you wanted to curse seeing the green garment slightly stained with your crimson blood. It was dry by now, surely the wound was actually healed. You just needed help removing the poison.

The remaining walk back was spent in comfortable silence. You had known Tauriel for longer than you even remember. She had always been a constant in your long life. She was a few hundred years older than you and took you under her guidance early on as your parents were close friends. Poor families with strong daughters that wanted more than the living on the outskirts of the big city. Tauriel was the one with the plan, you were the one that followed always wondering what you would’ve been had Tauriel not been there?

Nevertheless, she decided she was going to be a part of the Silvan Guard and that was that. She trained hard, day in and day out. She brought you along once you were old enough to decide if that’s what you wanted. It didn’t come as a second thought as you accepted her offer to begin training. You’d worked your ways up through the different guards behind Tauriel. Finally, a few hundred years prior you had been selected by the king to join the guard. Tauriel was promoted to Captain of the Guard, and you had never been prouder. She was everything and more. A sister you never really had but always wanted.

You’d met Legolas properly the night of the celebration and even chatted for a while. It was not lost on you how his eyes occasionally glanced around the room and landed on Tauriel. She was truly a stunning elf maiden. It surprised you she had not been courted yet, that you knew of. Why wouldn’t Legolas be interested in her? She was stunning beyond measure, kind as could be, a true proven warrior in the field and the Captain of King Thranduil’s guard. What more could you actually ask for?

What you didn’t know was that he kept his eyes on her for security to the king. If he needed to react he was the castles first line of defense when he was home. For he liked Tauriel but only as a dear friend he had grown close to over the years. Ever since your arrival to the guard he had only seemed to have eyes for you. He was just simply good at hiding it from you. Only watching you when you were preoccupied in the ring training or on guard. He couldn’t help himself from just admiring you from afar sometimes. He found you to be the most exquisite elf he’d ever laid his eyes upon. The only problem he had was trying to get you alone. You always disappeared when Tauriel was around and Tauriel was always around, being your best friend and his close friend. It had frustrated him for centuries.

Even his father, King Thranduil, found amusement out of Legolas’s inability to string together a coherent conversation together. For as amusing as he did find it he was growing worried Legolas would never actually be able to figure out how to reach you. Thranduil was hesitant over his sons pining over the elf, but he had found in the limited time he had truly known you, not just heard of your talents, that you were a great match for his son. It had been almost a hundred years since you had joined his guard, and Legolas had grown closer to you but there was just something that was stopping you from indulging him. He had no clue you acted so distant was to protect yourself. It would be hard to pretend you didn’t have a crush on the elf.

You had nearly gotten to the castle before the familiar golden blonde elf appeared in front of the both of you. The poison was really starting to hurt now. You needed to get away from the both of them and down to the healers. You’d just have to think of a good excuse after a moment of listening into their conversation.

“Tauriel, Y/N.” He gave the both of you a quick bow which you only returned with a head nod for you were not so sure you wouldn’t be able to wince from the pain, “How did the day go?” He asked as he looked over both of you. Your heart rate picked up when he spotted the dried blood on the side of your dress. Legolas was observant and even as Tauriel answered him his eyes stayed laser focused in on your form.

“Successful day. I am positive we have not reached the nest yet though. We will be back out tomorrow if you care to join us, my prince.” She answered giving you a curious look as his eyes were still looking right at you.

He gave her a quick nod as if to almost dismiss her before turning back to you. Tauriel stood there stunned at his curious behavior before she walked away slowly hoping to hear the conversation between her two obvious friends. No matter how many times she had told you the two of them were just friends you would never seem to believe her. It was slowly driving her mad as the both of you seemed be so clueless over the others fascination with the other.

“Are you all right?” He asked after a moment of the both of you looking at the other, “You look pale and there is blood on your side.” His head tilted in concern as he stepped closer.

A quick nod, “I am just fine. A small nick on this side is all. I must get going to bathe now if we are to be back out there tomorrow.” Giving him a nervous laugh, you attempted to walk away but he was having none of it. He had let you walk away far too many times, and he wasn’t letting you do it anymore. He wanted to know you. He wanted to understand you. He wanted to spend a lifetime and more with you as he was utterly fascinated with everything he had learned and is learning about you.

You looked down at you wrist being held by his much larger hand then back up to those blue eyes you found so mesmerizing. When he saw you weren’t prepared to speak he did to fill the silence, “You are not fine. You are favoring your left side. You will not look me in the eye and that blood is not even dried! What is wrong Y/N?” He nearly begged while giving your wrist a squeeze hoping to coax an answer out of your stubborn mouth. A trait he both loved and hated when it came to him being on the receiving end.

You looked down, “It is embarrassing. Promise you will not laugh?” You asked him knowing there was no way out of this. When he was focused on something he would not let it go. You were his focus right now and you had a feeling you would pass out before he would just let you wander off now.

His eyes scrunched in concern at your request. What had happened in those woods and why were you hiding it from him? “I would never laugh at you mellon nin.” He grinned right to you.

Rolling your eyes you answered him, “That is a lie for you laughed at me just yesterday!”

He had yet to drop your hand and had no plans to as he waited for your confession, “I was merely laughing with you. Not at you.”

Narrowing your eyes at him you responded, “I was not laughing though.”

“That is beside the point.” He grinned knowing you had bested him, “Can you please tell me what is wrong then?”

“I need to go to a healer. I got stung by a spider. I was careless out there and got bested.” You spoke quietly hoping no others had heard. Your reputation would likely suffer. How could a Kings Guardself get stung so easily?

He frowned taking your words into consideration before deciding what to do, “Follow me. I will heal you. Up to my chambers.” Your feet started following him as he led you to his room. You had been there a few times, but this was beginning to feel different. He was casting gazes at you that you had never seen from the elf you’d grown to love.

“Sit there.” He pointed to his bed like it meant nothing. You hesitated as you looked over the pristinely made bed you’re sure a helper had done up for him.

“Are you sure…”

“None of that. Sit.” He waved you off not letting your brain give it a second thought. You watched as he gathered a few supplies from his bathroom before kneeling at your side.

After a few moments he spoke, “I will have to cut into your dress further.”

“You are lucky I am handy with a needle.” You nodded letting him know it was fine. You would have to show a little skin if he was to actually heal you.

“I will have a seamstress repair it. Do not bother with it.” He smiled right back at you before he began to delicately cut the fabric away. He knew he should not be enjoying this as much as he was, but he was finally getting some time alone with you. It felt like a miracle even if it was at your sake.

“That’d hardly be necessary.”

He hummed before cleaning off the wound, “It’s all right to let people take care of you, you do know that right?”

It was your turn to frown as you took in his words, “I must rely on myself. My parents live far away. My brother was killed in the war. It is just Tauriel and I now. And even then she is busy being the captain most days.”

Legolas looked up to you with a sadness you had hardly ever seen, “This may sting.” He spoke quickly in a much older version of Sindarin. You could hardly make out what he was saying. Instead, you closed your eyes fighting the growing stinging sensation in your side. It would burn until it was all out and unfortunately for you it had been spreading for some time. You clenched your teeth together as the spell worked to pull all the spiders poison from your system. When it was all clear you felt that signature wave of exhaustion come over you after all the adrenaline had finally started wearing away.

“Thank you.” Blinking your eyes rapidly you were trying your hardest to stay awake. At this rate it would be a miracle if you could make it back to your quarters without passing out due to the exhausting beating you.

He gave you a quick nod as he studied you. His concern only grew as he spotted your weary eyes giving way to your overtiredness, “Lay down. Rest your eyes.”

“Oh, Legolas I cannot.” You stood with a wobble for which he quickly grabbed at your waist steadying

“I insist. You will not make it back in your state. My bed is comfortable. Rest, mellon nin. I will be here in the morning.” He pulled the covers back guiding your over. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep at all. He was going to watch and listen to make sure your heart was steady. Your breathing was regular. He knew that you would be just fine, of course. That did not stop the twinge of worry as he saw you in a far more fragile state than he was used to. And you were trusting him instead of running away

“Thank you.” You whispered after he had pulled the covers up over you. Thankful for the night cover because you were sure your cheeks were blazing red. It felt oddly intimate to be cared for so casually. Nobody had really ever done that for you before.

“Quite literally, anytime. Now rest, I will see you in the morning.” He pushed you to close your eyes. And he was right. It did not take you more than a few moments to fall into a deep sleep helping your body recover.

When your eyes opened sunlight was hitting them. You had slept through the night for the first time in a long time. You peaked your eyes over seeing Legolas standing close but far enough to give you your distance with a brilliant smile on his face. You admired his beautiful blue eyes that reflected even brighter than usual. It simply was not fair that an elf could be as handsome as he was.

He took a step closer when your eyes locked with his, “How do you feel?”

“Much better. I slept very well.” You gave him a lazy smile as you sat up in his bed. It hit you that you spent the night in his chambers let alone his bed. Your mother would be horrified to learn you had done such a thing. But you had the suspicion he would never let such a thing get out to anyone. He would find a way to get you out of the royal tower without a second thought. This was Legolas. He would never let your reputation suffer on his behalf.

He nodded taking another step closer, “I told you my bed was comfortable.” His smile only grew into a smirk as he witnessed your cheeks flame up with color. How easy it was to get a reaction from you now that he could properly talk to you, “You look much better this morning. Much more color in your cheeks.” He teased you only worsening your reaction.

You looked down feeling his gaze too much, “You tease me so Legolas.”

He laughed softly, “Indeed. Is it so hard to believe I enjoy seeing you blush?”

You felt you heart pick up speed, “You do?”

“Aye, I enjoy everything about you actually.” He smiled feeling like he was finally letting it all out, “You’re the most interesting elf I have ever got to meet.” He only smiled seeing your shocked expression grow.

“What are you saying Legolas?” It came out as a whisper as if you were afraid of his answer. And you were truthfully.

“I love you. I have loved you for a long time. You have just never given me the chance to show you.” He grinned once more as he kneeled next to the bed, so he was eye level with you. He grabbed at your hand holding it in his.

Your eyes snapped up to his at that admission, “I thought… I thought you liked Tauriel?” You blinked at him more confused than ever. Had you truly been that oblivious to his feelings? You felt your hand growing warm in his.

“Tauriel?” he let out a low laugh, “No, never. She is more of a sister to me than anything.” He had confirmed what she had been telling you for years.

Licking your lips, you were sure he had heard your heart rate speed up at a rapid pace, “Oh, this is news to me.”

He smiled at your sudden bashfulness, “Is that all then?”

You felt the heat creeping up your cheeks, “You like me?” You asked him in response to his question.

“I love you.” He corrected you, “Meleth nin.” He brushed messy stray hairs away from your face. He was thrilled when he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you didn’t recoil or run away. You seemed more at a loss for words than he had expected. You always had a quick comeback to his words, but these had you stumped.

You whispered the words, “Meleth nin.” With the widest eyes right back at him.

His grin only widened seeing your expression shift from confusion to shock right back to bashfulness. He found you adorable in every sense of the word, “I’ve been trying to tell you for yours. But you always…”

“Run away.” You laughed bringing him to laugh right alongside you. The tension in the air evaporated in an instant as the two of you enjoyed a round of laughs shared early in the morning as the sun rose for the day.

“Exactly that.” He’d confirmed bringing you back down to reality.

After your fit of giggles had ended you looked down and away from his intense gaze, “Please forgive me for I thought you loved Tauriel. I did not want to intrude.”

Feeling his warm fingers beneath your chin he brough your eyes up to look right into his blue ones, “You must here me when I say that I forgive you. I forgive you a thousand times. Although we could have started this years ago it is all right. Please, will you let me take you out tomorrow? I’ll show you my favorite path behind the castle with the most beautiful flowers.” He paused trying to read your ever so stoic expression. When you broke into another grin he breathed out that sigh of relief he so desperately needed. He never imagined it to be so nerve wracking admitting such feelings to a friend like you.

“I would love to Legolas.”

He grabbed at your hands giving the back of one of them a slow kiss, “You do me a great honor, Y/N. “He let your hands go as he stood and moved towards the door.

Your face broke into a frown, “Where are you going?” It sounded whiny as it left your mouth. How had this elf made such a mess out of you so quickly?

He smiled not minding it a bit. He found he quite liked the departure of your usual self for one that’s much more needy, “You need to eat, meleth nin. I am grabbing you a plate of food. I will be but twenty minutes.”

You shook your head, “I can go, no need for you to make a trip out of it.” But before you could swing your legs over the bed he was stopping you.

He walked back over pushing you back down in bed for the second time in as many days, “No need to. Rest, please?”

You huffed, “I feel fine Legolas.”

“Meleth nin, let me help you.” He brushed his thumb along your cheek, “Please?” He asked once more now that you had calmed down a bit.

“Fine.” You crossed your hands over your chest trying not to argue with him. He was just being sweet. Let him do this.

He leaned down placing the softest, gentlest kisses to your temple, “Thank you.” He whispered before placing another kiss on your cheek. Pulled away he knew he would leave your mind reeling for at least the next twenty or so minutes.

“I will be back. Rest please.” He insisted once more as he walked to his bedroom door. Turning back to you he only grinned seeing you tucked so cozily in his bed. A sight he had wished to see for so long.

“As you insist, my prince.” You winked. Closing your eyes, you only heard his laugh before the door clicked shut. You decided fairly quickly that you could get used to this. Somebody to help. Somebody to care. Somebody to be there for you.

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loveforsatoru · 3 months

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Loved You Then, Love You Now- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Chapter 1: Zenin Clan/Meeting)

TW: drinking, abuse, blood

3/31/07:

It’s pitch black outside. You’re struggling to make your way back to the Zenin estate. You’re coming back from a mission, one that was too difficult for you to handle as a grade 2 sorcerer yet you were forced to go regardless of that.

Growing up in a place as wretched as the Zenin Clan is already draining on its own, but being the sister of Naoya Zenin makes it even worse on top of the fact that you’re not a typical sorcerer. You specialize in the areas of RCT healing and martial arts. But what sets you aside from other healers is you’re able to regenerate larger parts of the body in a shorter amount of time. So naturally, you’re not qualified enough to be sent on missions meant for grades 1 or higher.

The mission went horribly. It was a semi grade 1 cursed spirit lurking in a nearby hospital. You took multiple blows, almost losing consciousness a few times. The only reason you managed to make it out was because you put every last ounce of strength and willpower into a single hit.

You’re almost crawling back to the estate, nearly falling to the ground from how much blood you’re losing, buckets of red staining the surface beneath you. There are numerous open wounds and multiple fractured bones. You’ve used RCT to heal minor injuries, but you’re losing an impeccable amount of blood with a large gash across your stomach, making it difficult to concentrate on healing yourself.

You’re hoping that nobody’s awake at the moment. You would never be able to live this down. You’re already belittled every day by the horrid men you’ve been forced to be around for the last 17 years. Thankfully, your father, Naobito allowed you to enroll to Jujutsu Tech after months of begging. You leave tomorrow.

Much to your demise, the lights in the large mansion are on and shuffling can be heard from the inside.

Your body can’t handle it anymore, you’re starting to see specks of white. Nothing feels real. You can’t even feel the clothes on your body anymore, only the blood soaking through them. You collapse on the grass, lying in a pool of your own blood.

The door is swung open and a voice you know and dread all too well hits your ears.

“You can’t take one simple fucking cursed spirit? You really are useless. I should’ve killed you the moment mom gave birth to you.” That voice only made you shake in fear. You could recognize it from miles away as none other than your nefarious older brother.

You can’t spout back a response, only coughing up blood. His degradation is humiliating. Your heart gets heavier with every word that leaves his mouth. He never fails to make you question your ability as a sorcerer.

He begins walking down the stairs, closer to where you are.

Each sound of his feet slapping against the concrete makes your blood run cold.

No, no, no ,no.

That’s the only thing running through your mind.

“Look at you. Nearly passed out like the weak bitch you are. You're good for nothing. You won’t make it out there.” His tone is piercing, full of disappointment and mockery. He finds it pathetic how hard you try again and again to prove yourself.

He kneels in front of you and grabs an angry fistful of your hair, yanking your head up. You can feel your brain banging against the side of your skull, causing you to groan out in pain.

He’s looking at you with nothing but hatred. He sees you as lower than scum, worthless with no purpose. To him, you’re just a waste of space.

“How can you call yourself a healer but can’t even save yourself? How will you save others? One day, you’ll watch the most important person in your life die right in front of you and it’ll be all your fault. Nobody told you to be fucking useless.”

He spits in your face and slams your head down on the ground which sends a painful shock throughout your entire body.

“Stop, Naoya! Stop it!” Your vocal cords feel like they’re tearing. It’s the first and last thing you’re able to scream at him before coughing up more blood, nearly throwing up your insides.

He releases his grip on your hair and stands up. For a moment, you begin to think he’s finally done tormenting you, but you couldn’t be more wrong. This wasn’t enough for him. He wants to see your soul crush and wither in front of his eyes.

He stares at your helpless body, about to beg him for help because you’re desperate to make it out of this alive, but he doesn’t care.

“Don’t open your mouth. Nobody’s going to help you. When will you realize you’re not wanted by anyone here? You’re lucky dad is sending you off to that stupid jujutsu school. He probably just wants to get rid of you. The only thing you can do is cook and fold laundry. Even so, you still don’t know your place in the clan or the world. You’re a woman. That’s all you’ll ever be. You won’t be desired for who you are because you're nobody. If you get lucky, a man might keep you around as a house pet to do his chores.”

Disgust, hatred, disappointment, anger.

They’re the only things he’s ever spoken to you with ever since you were little. The older you grew, the more he resented you. The slaps and pinches turned into kicks and blows to the face, smashing your head against the wall whenever he got the chance.

You can’t do anything but stare right back up at him, barely being able to make out the scowled expression on his face due to your hazy vision. Tears spill from your eyes, mixing with the dirt smeared on your cheeks.

He kicks you once.

Twice.

Three times.

Stepping on your broken ribs, he watches your face contort into one of pure pain and misery, unable to cry or shout because your throat is filled with nothing but blood.

“You’d better have your shit packed. I want you out of the house by noon sharp tomorrow. If you aren’t, I’ll make sure the rest of your life is a living hell.” He walks away, slamming the door of the estate, leaving you to rot outside.

He means his words and you know it. There isn’t an ounce of a lie in there.

Your body feels sore all over. There are stabbing sensations, burning, and aches in every part of you. You almost feel disappointed in yourself. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you are useless. Look at you, dissolving in your blood, sweat, and tears.

You push your feeble body off the ground and crawl towards the stairs. Every limb in your body is screaming at you to stop and lay down, but you refuse.

…

After an agonizing 10 minutes, you get to the door. You reach up towards the doorknob and twist it open with your nimble fingers. Instantly, you’re hit with the smell of alcohol. It makes you nauseous and your nose twitches at the strong scent.

You look to your side to find your dad knocked out. There’s beer bottles everywhere, some of it spilling on the floor. He never changes. You doubt he ever will.

You wonder if Naoya’s right. Is your dad sending you to Jujutsu Tech for the sole purpose of getting rid of you? He never particularly expressed any hatred towards you, but he wasn’t there for you either. Everytime Naoya would torment you, your father would simply watch with empty eyes, like the sight of his young daughter being tossed around by her older brother didn’t bother him. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe he was too drunk out of his mind to care. Maybe he just didn’t love you. Naoya is the one he cares about, not you.

Sometimes you wish you could be loved by others too.

Am I unlovable?

You’ve been asking yourself that for as long as you can remember.

You were getting lost in your thoughts, staring at the sight of your passed out drunk father, silently asking him to love you until a sharp pain was felt in your abdomen. You wince out in pain and have to hold back the scream bubbling in your throat.

You’re still laying on the floor in a crawling position when you look back and see the trail of blood from the front door to where you are in the living room.

The sight makes you dizzy, you had never seen or lost so much blood.

You try as hard as you can to make it to the bathroom and when you do, it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

You lean into the bathtub, turning the water on before stripping off your blood soaked clothes. You could wring it out and it’d be enough to fill gallons.

You look in the mirror and examine your body. A gash across your stomach, black eye, bruised lip, cuts and scabs make its way from your head to your toes. You look almost unrecognizable, a whole new person. You’d prefer it if you were. You want to be anyone but yourself right now. It’s pitiful in the worst way possible.

The entire estate is silent, everyone’s asleep. The only sound heard is the water filling up the tub.

The moonlight directly hits the bathroom window, shining down on your body and highlighting the things you wish you could erase.

The scar Naoya left on your body all those years ago won’t go away no matter how hard you try to remove it from both your body and your memory. It’s imprinted into your skin, a sign of weakness and a constant reminder that your brother never has and never will love you.

*Flashback*

It was the summer of 1995. You were 5 years old, Naoya was 14.

It was hot, too hot to stay inside all day. The sun was shining brightly, illuminating the usually dark mansion. Summer was your favorite season, but now you think, no, you’re sure it’s your least.

Being the naive 5 year old you were, you had the idea to ask your “beloved” older brother to spend some time with you. Nobody else gave you attention. Who in the Zenin Clan would pay attention to the little girl who couldn’t do anything besides heal a couple cuts and small animals? You were too young and dumb to realize Naoya thought the same way.

“Naoya! Naoya! Let’s go play outside!” You eagerly opened his door to find him lying in bed, air conditioner set to the max whilst he aimlessly read a book on how to get stronger.

“No, you’re annoying. Go away.” His response was plain and blunt, but being as persistent as ever, you didn’t give up. You were dying to spend time with someone, talk to someone who wasn’t yourself.

“Please, please, please! It’s so hot outside! We can play with water balloons!”

Your whining and feet stopping on the wooden floor almost made a vein pop out of his head. Everything you did irked him.

“No! Stop talking to me! Go find something else to do with your pathetic life instead of bothering me! Make some fake food in the kitchen. It’s all you’re decent at.”

You grumble and walk further into his room, trying to find a way to get him to change his mind.

He glares at you, unwilling to cooperate or put up with this any longer.

Your stupid big eyes, and short h/c hair that barely passed your shoulders, unknowing to all the shit people said about you to your face and behind your back. You were only a kid, but that didn’t stop them. In their book, if you weren’t strong from birth and/or lacked a “real” cursed technique, you were useless. You, unfortunately fit into those categories.

You were clueless, only staring back at those who dehumanized you with a smile on your face, happy that you were receiving some sort of attention even if it was negative.

You had a doll in one hand and a teacup in the other. You were more than likely playing by yourself in your room before barging into his.

“What are you doing?” He asks, but you don’t respond. You were now sitting on his bed, stirring up a way to convince him into going with you. Bribery? Annoyance? Whining? Nothing would work on him. He was dead set on keeping you away from him as far as possible. So far, he wouldn’t be able to sense your presence within a 15 mile radius.

“Who said you could sit on my bed? Get the hell off!” He pushes you with his foot with enough force to knock you off, landing straight on the floor.

You let out a “hmph” and climb back on, arms folded over your chest.

“Why won’t you just play with me? I wouldn’t be sitting on your bed if you did.” You whined, a big pout replacing your previous expression.

“Because I hate you.” He said the words so casually, his eyes boring into your soul.

You blinked at him, unfamiliar with the newfound feeling of dread and sadness. Instead of just smiling back like you normally would, you began to cry. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, landing onto his bed. Hearing those words come from him hurt more than it did from anyone else. You knew what the word “hate” meant, and having it thrown at you by the one you looked up to most hurt your small, fragile heart.

He didn’t console you, nor did he apologize. Instead, He grabbed your arm and pinched you with all his might, the flesh instantly bruising.

You only continued to cry more, dropping your things on the ground, the teacup shattering as water spilled out and onto his bedroom floor. It made him angrier. He pushed you out of his room and into a glass table in the dining room, shoving you into it. The table broke on impact from the amount of sheer force he was handling you with. A piece got stuck in the area where he pinched you. Blood trickled down your arm as your cries turned into wails. You sat on the floor, surrounded by glass as your high pitched voice could be heard throughout the entire estate, but nobody came to check on you. They didn’t care enough to do so.

You were looking up at Naoya, clutching your arm, expecting an apology, but it never came. He landed a harsh slap across your face before going back into his room.

You sat in disbelief. It was the most hurtful thing anyone did to you.

*End Flashback*

And here you stood, 12 years later, examining that same mark that’s forever ingrained into you.

You hate it, you hate this life, you hate it here, you hate Naoya.

You wish you could crawl out of your skin and bury yourself away in a hole.

The more you look at your face in the mirror, the more distorted your reflection becomes. You’ve lost complete sense of yourself. Who even are you? Can you call yourself a sorcerer? When was the last time you saved someone? Will this twisted fate of being unable to help those around you follow you throughout your life?

You have no one to go to, no one to confide in, no one to open up to. It’s been like this your whole existence. You, alone, isolated. You hope this won’t last forever. You’ll get on your knees and beg the Heavens above to give you some sort of mercy if you have to. Take away your suffering, your pain, the thoughts that consume you entirely from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep. You deserve to get what you want. You crave and desire genuine connection. Someone to love and someone to love you back just as much or maybe even more.

Haven’t you been through enough?

…

You hastily step inside the bathtub, watching as the water turns a shade of red due to the blood seeping from your body.

You skin into the warm water, slightly hissing at the feeling, but your muscles immediately loosen. You let the water envelope you, your head being the only thing above it.

You trace your fingers over the cuts, some deeper than others. Slowly, you gently run the palm of your hand over your injuries, using RCT to heal yourself.

Negative energy, multiply that against itself, resulting in positive energy. Reverse cursed technique, something not many sorcerers can do. It’s a blessing and a curse.

You stare up at the bathroom ceiling, letting your mind wander to what your life will turn out to be like once you finally make it to Jujutsu Tech tomorrow afternoon. Anything would surely be better than the life you’re currently living.

…

You finish taking your bath, making sure to wash away every grime collected on your body. Quietly, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off before making your way to your room, tip-toeing so as to not wake anyone up. Your dad is still slumped over the kitchen counter and everyone else is in their respective rooms. It’s a miracle nobody had gotten up.

Your room is the furthest down the estate, a deliberate decision made by Naoya to continue your suffrage in the most mundane ways possible.

Water droplets slide down your body, making contact with the floor.

Drip

It was as if any miniscule noise would cause the estate to crumble into nothing.

You pull open the creaky door and hurry inside, quickly closing it. You walk over to your bed and toss your body onto it. A breath of relief escapes your lips the second you make contact with the soft mattress.

You get under the covers, not bothering to fully dry yourself off before drifting into a deep sleep, hoping for a better tomorrow.

4/1/07:

It’s currently 4:36am, the sun is barely out yet. You made sure to get up bright and early in order to catch the first train and to avoid bumping into any of the other Zenin’s.

You’re already dressed, wearing the uniform that came in the mail not too long ago. A perfect fit. Your suitcase is packed and ready to go. You’ve never been happier. It’s the first time in a while you’ve found excitement in your days.

You say goodbye to your room, parting ways with the place you spent most of your time in. Playing dolls, watching movies, talking to yourself, consoling yourself as you cried time and time again.

It’s bittersweet.

But you suck up a breath and make your way out, going down the hall.

All the doors are shut, indicating that everyone is still asleep.

Besides your father who’s waiting at the front door. You can’t decipher the expression on his face. He doesn’t look angry, drunk, or annoyed.

You stand across from him, not knowing what to say. For a second, you’re worried he’s going to stop you from leaving.

You open your mouth, ready to argue with all your might, but his next words surprise you.

“Good luck.” They’re simple, but speak volumes.

Growing up, you didn’t speak much to your dad. He was either busy or drunk. It didn’t leave much opening to communicate with him. It’s not like he wanted to either. Sometimes, it seemed he’d intentionally avoid you like you were some sort of plague that would infect him if he got too close.

So, standing here, face to face with the man who failed you as a father while he tells you good luck with your new life means more than he’ll know.

You nod, a small smile creeping onto your face as your eyes crinkle the tiniest bit.

He takes a step towards you, patting your shoulder and moving aside from the door, giving you the green light to go on and find yourself in the new world, one where you won’t be abused, belittled, or doubted.

And so you do, running out the door and officially leaving everything in the past.

You take one last look behind you, watching as the scenery gets smaller and smaller, fading away into the distance. One you hope you won’t ever have to come back to.

Your smile grows wider as the sounds of the wheels on your luggage rolling against the concrete fills your ears. Another reminder that this is reality and not a dream you’ll have to eventually wake up from.

You navigate the streets of Tokyo, not as busy as they normally would be due to your early rising.

You head towards the train station, waiting for the train to arrive.

To get from Koganei to Jujutsu Tech takes about 2 hours. Despite both locations being in Tokyo, you’ve heard the school is in the far outskirts, surrounded by trees and mountains.

The thought of it all is enough to make your adrenaline rush and heart pump with anticipation.

…

After impatiently waiting for 30 minutes, the train finally arrives and you’re the first to get on, grabbing a seat in the far back of the train.

It’s pretty much empty aside from 2 boys wearing the same uniform who look to be about a year younger than you. One had blonde hair, keeping a stoic demeanor while the other was the complete opposite. Brown hair with the widest smile as he rambles on to the other boy.

You pay no mind, not wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Instead, you put in your headphones and decide to listen to music on the way there. There’s not much else to do.

…

The train is silent for the most part aside from the occasional blabber and laughter coming from the brown haired boy from earlier. You could hear him through your headphones, but you couldn’t be bothered since you were nearly dozing off, eyelids threatening to shut. You didn’t get much sleep last night. Three hours at most.

Right when you fully slumped against the seat, taking in a breath and closing your eyes, you felt something or rather, someone poking you.

You take out an earbud and to no surprise, it’s the same boy. He’s made himself comfortable next to you while the blonde one reads a book, seemingly wanting to be left in peace.

“Hi!” He beams, his cheery voice echoing throughout the train.

“Hello?” You reply, slightly confused at his antics.

“I noticed we’re heading to the same place and was wondering if you wanted to sit with us! My name is Yu Haibara and that one over there is Nanami! But he’s rather grumpy today.” He leaned in closer and whispered the last part, thinking he was being discrete, but even his whispers were loud and full of energy, earning a groan from the blonde who you’ve discovered goes by Nanami.

You let out a chuckle at his excitement to be talking to a stranger on a train.

“My name's y/n.” You smile and hold out your hand which he happily shakes.

“Cool! What year are you going into?”

“Third.” You reply, holding up a 3 with your fingers.

“Aw, that's a bummer. We’re first years.” You watch as his expression quickly falls into a frown, disappointed that he won’t be in the same grade as the pretty girl he met only 5 minutes ago.

“It’s okay, I’m sure we’ll see each other around!” You give him a thumbs up in which he blushes and reciprocates. Nanami pays no attention to either of you, immersed in whatever he’s reading.

The train suddenly comes to a stop and you look out the window, your eyes glimmering at the sight. It’s beautiful. You’ve never seen trees this green or mountains this huge. It’s not like you ever went outside the central city anyway unless it were for a mission. Even then, nothing compared to this.

You hurriedly rush out of the train and Haibara follows fast behind while Nanami takes his time.

“Wow! This is great! But how do we get to the school building?” You ask, confusion laced in your tone. Is there another bus?

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe we’re supposed to wait down here until a teacher gets us?”

You both stand there like idiots, hands on your hips as you examine the unfamiliar area, pondering on how you’re possibly going to get to your desired destination.

Nanami sighs and rolls his eyes, in disbelief at how two teenagers could be so senseless.

“We clearly have to walk up it.”

You and Haibara let out dramatic gasps, hands slapped over your foreheads.

“Are you kidding me?!” You’re exasperated. You figured that coming to a fancy, rich, Jujutsu Tech school meant you’d have some sort of transportation to get up there.

“Yeah, that’s way too much!” Haibara pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, but Nanami is already too far ahead to hear either of you complain. He thinks he’s gonna die if he has to listen to you two talk any longer.

You and Haibara both give each other a look, shaking your heads in disappointment before following behind Nanami, running as fast as you can before he gets too far ahead. You’d definitely lose yourself trying to get around this place.

…

You and Haibara are practically panting the more you walk up the bone killing mountains while Nanami barely breaks a sweat.

“How is he able to be so composed?” You ask yourself.

Thankfully, the three of you made it after not much longer. Your jaw drops at how nice the campus is. It’s even better than you could've imagine.

Gawking over the gorgeous architecture, you see three other students out in the distance. Haibara wastes no time running up to them, introducing himself like he did with you.

You quietly follow him, curious to meet the other students.

There’s a girl with short brown hair and a cigarette in between her lips, a beauty mark nicely decorates her cheek. She’s talking to two other boys who seem to be arguing over something.

“I'm saying you need to be more humble and polite. You haven’t even greeted the new students yet.” The quiet voice came from one of the two boys. He has sleek black hair and a liquid smooth tone.

“Huh?! What are you talking about? Let loose a little. It won't kill you.”

The moment you look up to see who was speaking, heat rushes into your cheeks. Fluffy white hair, the most sparkling blue eyes, a jaw sharp enough to cut paper and beautifully striking features. His eyes are so captivating. It’s like you’re standing in the presence of an angel.

“Hello? Helloooo?” The white haired boy is directly in front of your face, leaning down to make direct eye level contact with you.

“Are you there? Cat got your tongue?” He teases before stepping back, giving you some room to breathe.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous.” You breathe out, a shaky chuckle escaping your lips.

“Nervous, yeah? Why?” The same one replies, taking out a piece of chocolate from his pocket and plopping it in his mouth.

The black haired boy chimes in. “Don’t listen to him. There’s no need to be nervous. I’m assuming you’re a first year?"

“No.. I’m a third year.” You stammer over your words, nearly choking on your own saliva. You were never the type to get butterflies around guys, but this is unreal.

You watch as both men quirk their eyebrows, surprised at your answer.

“Third year? That means you’re with us. I’m Suguru, this is Satoru, and she’s Shoko.” What an attractive friend group. It seems like they’ve known each other for a while.

“I’m y/n..”

“Y/n. A pretty name for an even prettier girl. Since it’s your first time here, we’ll give you a tour.” Satoru says, giving you a wink as his lips curl into a charming smirk.

You look around and see that Haibara’s nowhere to be found. You were at least comfortable with him. Now, you’re stuck with people you can hardly speak around, including a freakishly handsome blue eyed boy who, unknowingly to you, has had his sights on you from the moment you made your way up the mountain.

Little does he know, his best friend has the same intentions.

#gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #jjk angst #rambles #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #geto x reader #suguru x reader

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

you’ll find the key

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part five of if the door wasn’t shut — after feeling hopeless, you decide it’s time to heal

▹ — a/n: guys, i apologise for the wait! usually it doesn’t take me so long to write but this was a bit of a struggle!! i hope it lives up to any expectations :( i love you guys sm <3 pls leave ur thoughts + feedback and if u would like to see anything else in this series !!!

▹ — warnings: bad mental health, arguments, like two much needed hugs, so many apologies (my brain is failing so please tell me if there’s anything i’m missing!!!)

▹ — general taglist: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours

masterlist

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

check out howl’s song associations!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was still storming outside.

Snow was coming down in heavy bouts, swirling all over the place with the force of the wind, and it was almost a goddamn blizzard. The ground was covered in it, and if it weren’t for the people already out in the streets, using shovels to dig away the snow in front of doorways, you were sure everyone would’ve gotten snowed in.

Not that you were going anywhere, anyway.

You hadn’t left Jesse’s side since you had gotten back to Jackson, after Tommy had a talk with you. They told you he was going to be absolutely fine, that all he needed was rest and to keep the wound clean. You still worried about him.

Part of you, despite knowing that what happened wasn’t your fault, still felt guilty. Out of the two of you, you were the more experienced one, and you should’ve known better, right? Should’ve caught wind that something wasn’t quite right sooner? You should’ve done something, protected him better, maybe?

You didn’t know exactly what you could’ve done differently, and you tried not to think of the possibilities, because the last thing you needed was to drown in guilt when you already felt bad enough.

Tommy’s chat with you hadn’t helped, either, and you know it was only because he cares, but it still hurt. The way he had looked at you, so angry, and scolded you for going back out there, for going after Joel when you and Jesse had barely made it out yourselves. He had called you irresponsible, which you would’ve argued against, if you hadn’t felt so guilty over the events of the day, if you hadn’t been worrying about Jesse.

You didn’t want to think about him being right, about how you could’ve gotten Jesse killed today, or yourself, god — Joel could’ve died, trying to save you. But was that really your fault? You wondered if everyone blamed you for Jesse getting hurt, as much as you blamed yourself.

“Are you really brooding, right now?” Jesse croaked, startling you from where you stood at the window beside his bed, staring out at the swirling snow. You turned to him, seeing his raised eyebrows, and felt almost thankful about the annoyance that arose when he looked smug, like he was right. “Unbelievable!”

“I’m not brooding, you asshole.” You murmured, unconvincingly. Jesse grinned, shaking his head at your denial.

“Oh, you so are.”

“I should’ve let them finish the job.” You responded flatly, breaking into a smile when Jesse laughed. The quiet lingered for a moment, both of your smiles slowly falling as the weight of everything that happened registered between you. “I’m sorry.”

Jesse’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you, his fingers picking at the edge of the blanket settled over him. “For what? Saving my life?”

“No, Jesse, I should’ve never put us in that situation. Especially after Pete left. I know better.” You replied, stepping towards the guy who had quickly become your best friend. You shook your head, eyes flickering around the room, until they settled on him. “Tommy took me off patrols, anyway, so.”

“What?” Jesse questioned, mouth hanging open. “Why?”

You stared at him, blinking in your confusion, and you tilted his head back to check his eyes were focused, that he wasn’t concussed, or something.

“Do you not remember what happened?”

“I remember just fine, thank you.” He responded, eyebrows creased as your hand left his forehead. Both of you wore incredibly confused expressions, neither knowing what the miscommunication between you could be. “Why would Tommy take you off patrols?”

“Jesse, you could’ve died.” You said, watching his face for the reaction, as if the information was new to him.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t your fault! You’re the one who saved me, who got me out. I don’t understand.” Jesse said, voice raising as he got slightly heated. He lowered his voice when he sat up, and pulled at his stitches, hissing in pain.

“No, I got us into it, and I was lucky to get us out.” You told him, as if it was a confession, and you frowned. You didn’t want to think about what could have happened to Joel, didn’t want to say that for once, the world had been on your side, letting you get him out, too. You didn’t voice it, but you don’t know what you would’ve done with yourself if he had died, trying to save you.

Jesse shifted, voicing your name, but you stopped him, smiling tightly in his direction. “It’s fine, Jesse. It’s for the better. Besides, means I’ve got more time to do my pottering.” You teased, though the words didn’t quite reach the way your teasing usually sounded. “Anyway, Dina showed up.”

“What? Why? Did she actually?” Jesse asked, his eyebrows raised as he looked to you with suspicion, like you were about to be making fun of him.

“‘Course she did. Whole town knows what happened, and she was worried about you.” You said with a grin that didn’t meet your eyes.

“The whole town?” He questioned, shutting his eyes and dropping his head back with a groan when you nodded your confirmation. “My family are so going to kill me, aren’t they?”

With a laugh, you reached forward to mess up his hair, “Oh, Jesse, you sweet thing. We’ve already devised a plan on how we’re going to do it.”

He slapped your hand away, glaring, but a smile pulled at his lips. He knew it wasn’t true, knew you were just entertaining his dramatics. What he didn’t know, was that his family had already been in, had already scolded you for getting their golden boy into trouble.

You moved back to the window, seeing a man across the road had given up on shovelling the heavy snow away from his door. Something heavy had settled on your chest, and you took a deep breath to try and get some oxygen past it. You didn’t blame Jesse’s family for what they had said to you — if you had been in their position, you probably would’ve been the same. They hadn’t quite approved of you, anyway, so you didn’t take it too personally. You were more than aware of everything you had done wrong.

Somebody cleared their throat in the doorway to the room, and you turned away from the window to see Joel stood there. He nodded his greeting to Jesse, a tight smile on his face.

“C’mon, kiddo, Tommy wants you to head back to the shop.” Joel said, repressing the sigh that wanted to leave his chest when you only nodded, stepping away from the window with a final glance outside.

“Well,” You said to Jesse, trying to muster up your best smile, “Duty calls, I guess. Feel better soon, okay?”

He called your name when you walked away, passing Joel as he stood beside the door, but you ignored it, feeling that weight grow heavier. Joel followed after you, a frown on his face.

You knew the route out already, and figured Joel was just the messenger, but he followed along, a few steps behind you as he limped on his injured leg. The wind was harsh when you opened the door, and you shivered when snow was immediately blown in your face. You lingered in the doorway, both hesitant to go out into the awful conditions, and feeling bad for leaving Joel hurrying on his bad leg.

Joel didn’t say it, but you knew he was here because Tommy didn’t want to see you. You couldn’t say you were surprised — not after just how angry Tommy had gotten. His face had been red, the steam pouring from his ears practically melting the snow around him, and it was the first time he had ever yelled at you.

“You doing okay?” Joel asked, hesitantly, as he paused in the doorway beside you, watching you as you wrapped your coat tighter around you. He knew that nothing was fixed, not even close, but there was something.

“I’m fine, Joel.” You replied, and he could hear the exhaustion in your voice, the way it pulled on your words. It was easier to hear than it was to see, but he just caught the slump to your shoulders, the way you held your eyes shut for a moment, before going to brave the snow.

He walked beside you as you headed towards the ceramics shop, your pace a touch slower than usual. You shoved your hands in your pockets, eyebrows creasing when you realised you must’ve taken your gloves off at some point. You tried not to sigh when you realised that they were probably lost, and just decided to chalk it up to another disappointment in an incredibly frustrating day.

When you arrived at the ceramics shop, it was a mission to get through all the snow that had started blocking the door. You would probably be snowed in, by nightfall. Joel helped you get rid of as much of it as possible, his gloved hands doing most of the work after your bare ones become too numb to continue.

You opened the door, feeling heavier than you had in months, and left the door open as you moved to the back of the shop, turning on the heater that sat there. You let your hands linger in front of it, just gritting your teeth at the sting that followed from warming them too quickly.

Joel lingered in the doorway, frowning at you, and furrowed his eyebrows as he called your name, watching your turn to face him. “I’m sorry.”

You gaped at him, stunned.

“You should have gotten a choice. It wasn’t my place to decide that for you, or to leave without havin’ a conversation.” He continued on, his words jumbling the slightest bit. “I still think you stayin’ was the best thing for you, the safest thing, but for whatever it might be worth, I am sorry.”

When your silence lingered, Joel nodded tersely, and stepped away, smiling tightly as he left the shop, shutting the door behind him. You blinked at the closed door, unsure what to do, unsure if you should have said something. But even if you should’ve, what would you have said?

It wasn’t okay, not in the slightest, and everything around you seemed to be crumbling. Tommy wasn’t speaking to you and Maria would be more than upset with you, too. Jesse was in the infirmary, and that was on you. And even as you looked around the ceramics shop, all you saw was cracked paint on the walls, and dust that settled no matter how many times you wiped it away.

Hell, even the misshapen plates and bowls on the shelves just made your chest hurt. You didn’t feel any sort of pride for this place, anymore, and it was painful. It stung at the deepest parts of you, and you just settled down on the dirty floor in front of the heater, holding your head in your hands as you blinked back tears.

Why did you think you could do this?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Initially, you didn’t intend on avoiding Jesse.

In fact, you had plans to go and visit him the day after everything went to shit. It was just that when you opened the shop door, the outside looked far too unfriendly, and you knew his family would be in his infirmary room.

Perhaps it was a cowardly move, staying at the shop, locking the door and pretending the outside world of Jackson didn’t exist. Really, you were going to go and see him the next day. Swore to yourself that you would. But when the next day came, you didn’t even attempt to unlock the door to leave, figuring that it would be best to just leave him and his family to it. Dina was probably with him, too, so your absence wouldn’t be felt all too much.

Each day you said you would go, started with you justifying your staying in the shop. It went the same way, waking up and thinking you should go and see him, but the moment you got into the front of the shop, you thought better of it.

You blamed it on everything but what it actually was. Whether that be the snow, the heater in the shop that broke, the concept of him having quality time with his family… you used it all to reassure yourself that he didn’t need you by his side.

Besides, you knew he wouldn’t be in the infirmary for long. And by the fifth day, there was a knock against the shop door, barely heard over the howling wind outside. You remained in the back room, telling yourself it was probably nothing important, and after the heater broke, you couldn’t afford to open the door, anyway.

Even with the door closed, your breath misted in front of your face, and you had to rub your hands together more than once to generate heat, especially considering you seemed to have misplaced your gloves.

On day six, you kept all the lights off, and didn’t bother to poke your head around the doorframe to see who was knocking at the front door. After a few moments of loud knocking, his voice called out your name, and you were sure he was likely squinting through the shop window, trying to catch sight of you.

You barely even noticed the way you held your breath so it wouldn’t cloud the air, and alert him to your presence. You pretended the harsh exhale after he left was just a sigh of exhaustion. In some ways, you guessed it was.

By day seven, he knew what you were doing.

“Open the door,” Jesse yelled, still knocking wildly against the wood, and you were sure he was peeking in the window, too. “I’ve been to Tommy’s, the dinner hall, the greenhouses, the stables, hell — I even went to Joel’s. I know you’re here, stop hiding.”

You stayed in the back room.

After a while — much longer than you expected, especially given the still-awful weather — Jesse gave up, leaving the door at last. You frowned at the empty can of food in front of you, chest aching from the cold and everything that had happened over the past few days.

You hadn’t left the shop in the past seven days, surviving off of the short supply of long-life food in the cupboards. But that was your last can of it. As much as you knew you would have to leave, have to go get some more food in order to survive, you still didn’t want to. You didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want them to see the shame that was so visible in the curve of your frown, the dip of your brows.

It made it easier to hide, knowing Jesse was the only person looking for you. There had been no sign of Tommy or Maria, which pained you, but didn’t surprise you. Part of you wondered if they’d ever speak to you again, but you didn’t want to linger on the question, too afraid of the answer.

It was day eight that you had no other choice — the temperatures were dropping even further, and with no heater it was becoming too cold for you to take. The need for heat and food led you to the dinner hall, which was surprisingly empty, and you settled at your usual table with a plate of cooked food, feeling the chill that had begun to settle in your bones fade.

Most people would be staying inside their homes, the cold too much to bear, so you were surprised when Ellie waltzed into the hall, eyes scanning the room as she made her way over to grab herself some food. You dipped your head when she began looking in your direction, and clutched at the fork in your hand, holding your breath.

“So you are alive.” Ellie drawled, settling down in the seat opposite you with her plate in front of her. “You know your friend has been coming ‘round for the past few days, won’t leave us alone.”

You shrugged, not knowing how to respond.

She sighed, poking at the food on her plate. “Thanks for going back for Joel, by the way.” She pretended not to see the way your head snapped up, eyebrows furrowed as you looked at her.

“I wouldn’t leave him to die out there,” You said, after a moment, the words hesitant as they left you. “Especially when he went to try and help me.”

Ellie nodded, shoving food into her mouth, and you quickly followed her action. The silence between the two of you stretched uncomfortably, and you hated how everything had changed. Why couldn’t they have just let you come with them? Why did they have to push you so far away?

“He’s a good guy,” Ellie said, a frown on her face. “He makes stupid decisions, but only because he cares about us.”

You looked at her, wondering when the two of you had grown up. You remember the jokes you had shared during your travels, the way she had been able to make you smile even when doing so seemed impossible. She had made life in the apocalypse almost bearable, and now here you were, sat at the same table, but miles apart.

“Maybe, but you were right about one thing. I don’t know what happened, so if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” You told her, instead of acknowledging her words about Joel. You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to think about any of it.

It would be painful, you were sure, to hear about everything they had experienced. You could guess that a lot of it wouldn’t be pleasant, and it would likely hurt to hear about all the things you had missed out on, all the things that maybe you could’ve protected them from. But you were willing. It wasn’t forgiveness, it wasn’t a ticket back to being in each other’s lives, but it was progress.

And progress was all that you could offer, so it would have to do.

“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.” Ellie said, a tight smile on her face as she looked at you, her eyebrows slightly raised in surprise at your words.

You nodded, and the two of you ate in silence.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

After stocking up on some more long-lasting cans of food, you were prepared to hunker down in the shop for a while longer. You hadn’t been able to trade for another blanket like you had hoped, but you weren’t all too surprised. With the stormy weather, everybody wanted more warming supplies.

You had survived worse conditions, though, in worse places. One harsh winter in Jackson wouldn’t kill you, even if your heater was broken, and you still hadn’t found your gloves.

The shop door was locked once again, and you had taped the bottom of it to try and stop the cold draft from seeping into the room. You considered bunkering down in the back room, taping the door shut and staying in there with all the blankets and layers you had, but you thought better of it. You wanted to be able to hear the front door with ease, still on edge after the ambush with Jesse, especially considering the raiding attacks that had slowly begun to ease off.

Despite whatever had gone wrong, however angry Tommy may be, you knew he’d rely on you if the time came. You were sure of it. Everything the two of you had built couldn’t have been toppled by this one event, right?

Your gun was still laid by the shop door, and your ammo never left the jacket you always wore. Just in case. If anything were to go wrong, you wanted to be ready.

The call of your name shook you from your racing thoughts, the contemplation of everything that could happen pausing as your head snapped up. Maria’s voice was loud, and she hadn’t knocked. You didn’t have a surname — didn’t know whoever came before you long enough for them to tell you, didn’t know everyone who came after long enough for them to share their own. So she settled on your first name, yelling it loudly.

“Open the door!” Maria demanded once again, kicking the bottom of it with her foot. “Come on, open it. You’re not fooling anybody, and it’s freezing out here, little Troy can’t stay out here too long.”

With a sigh, you stood. She knew how to get to you — bringing baby Miller was a harsh plan, especially because it gave you no choice but to let her in. Not that it was much warmer in the shop than it was outside, but she didn’t know that.

You unlocked the door, pulling it open just to fit yourself into the crack of it. Facing Maria was terrifying, because you didn’t know what to expect. Even as she held on to baby Troy Miller, who was bundled up in more layers than you could count, she was totally unpredictable. She could be in a motherly mood, or that merciless Jackson council member.

“Hi,” You said, nervously. “What’re you doing here?”

She raised her eyebrows, stepping forward until you’d opened the door for her to step inside of the shop. Maria’s stern expression immediately fell, and you could feel nerves building in your stomach.

“Is your heating out?” She asked, turning on you suddenly, harshly. When you nodded meekly, she handed Troy over to you, not faltering even when you opened your mouth to voice your confusion.

He babbled at you, a toothy grin on his face, and you held on to him tighter. It hit you then, how much you actually cared about these people. Your brain short-circuited when you thought about something bad happening to this family, and it made you feel sick. Suddenly, you were regretting the meal you had eaten with Ellie.

“Well, I think Jeremy should be able to fix it up.” Maria sighed, standing from where she had crouched down to inspect your broken heater. “But he’s way busy with other heater issues. Come on, you’ll stay with us.”

“Maria.” You urged, repeating her name another time when she didn’t answer you, too busy thinking about options and solutions, as always. “I’m fine. Go home.”

She sighed heavily, turning to you with that stern look she’d been wearing since the moment you were left behind in Jackson. “I know you and Tommy are going through a rough time, but he loves you, and if he knew you’d been living here with no heat?” Maria shook her head with scoffed laughter, not reaching for Troy even as you offered to hand him back, instead moving to pack some of your clothes into a bag. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“It’s not my home, Maria,” You said softly, perhaps the softest she had ever heard you.

It was disquieting, at the least, for you to behave in such a way. Throughout the whole time Maria had known you, you had been sharp edges and bitten words, even when you had grown to care for them, that hadn’t changed all that much. It was a constant, your stubborn attitude and harsh nature, always slamming doors shut too hard, always charring food when you were unsupervised, because you’d turn the heat up too high. You were impatient, practical, realistic. You weren’t soft.

Maria’s face curved into a frown, and she stopped her presumptive actions in packing up some of your things. She looked at you, looked at the lines that were beginning to dig into your expression, looked at the way your shoulders slumped as you held on to her son.

“Maybe not,” Maria offered, and looked around at the shop that was not as pristine as the last time she had seen it, before looking back to you. “It could be, though.”

You shook your head, sighing but not finding any relief from the action, only feeling the same tightness to your chest. “I’m not a Miller.” You said, and it was true, because the space behind your name remained as empty as ever, that absence something you had felt your whole life.

“You’re as much a Miller as I am, as he is.” Maria reasoned, gesturing towards her son in your arms as she looked at you. She didn’t want to say too much, didn’t want to overwhelm you, but you had practically been adopted by the two Miller brothers. Two men who were so far from perfect, who made so many mistakes that they almost lost you, who cared too much. Hell, even if you weren’t consciously aware of it, you had adopted their mannerisms and tendencies.

It showed in the way you held Troy, the same stance that Tommy used. It showed in the frown on your lips, that looked far too much like Joel’s to be a coincidence. The furrow between your brows reflected Joel and Tommy’s own, a crevice built from worrying and frustration and anger. You reminded Maria too much of how Tommy had been when they first found him — eyes glassy, lost, and without purpose.

She had seen the change in you since you had been left in Jackson, so many ups and downs, but you had been doing better. And now, here you were, looking more lost than you ever had.

“That’s not true, Maria.” You replied, tense. It wasn’t true — Troy was a Miller by blood, and Maria was a Miller by marriage. Both choices that Tommy had made. It wasn’t the same for you, it couldn’t be. Tommy had never chosen you — Joel had dropped you in his lap before running away, and didn’t that make you the furthest thing from a Miller?

“It is true.” Maria refuted, stepping forward to hold a hand firmly against your face. “You’re a Miller, no doubt about it. Now come on, we’d better get going. Got a lot to talk about.”

She was finishing shoving your things inside of the backpack at her feet in a few moments, and was swinging it over her shoulder before you could protest, making her way out of the door. Holding her son, what choice did you have but to follow?

The two of you were silent on your journey to Rancher Street, and you felt the nerves bubbling up from your stomach, leaving an unpleasant tingling in the back of your throat. It was tense, though that could have been all from you. You were still holding Troy, having him half buried in your jacket to make sure he wouldn’t be cold, despite the fact your jacket wasn’t the warmest.

When you arrived to her house, Tommy wasn’t there. She didn’t say anything, so you didn’t mention it, much preferring to ignore the issues that would likely arrive whenever he returned. Instead, you settled Troy down, removing some of his layers at the rush of warm air that came the moment you stepped through the door.

Your hands were tingling, in a strange state between feeling and numb after the sudden temperature change. You settled them under your legs when you sat down on the couch, Troy at your side as Maria clambered about the kitchen, having already dropped your bag down beside the sofa.

When she came back, it was with a steaming mug that you recognised — one of your very own design. It was a dark green, close to black, and had your poor recreation of a bear on it. You remembered thinking it was going to come out brown, remembered the shock when it was green.

She handed it over, and you used the hand with slightly more feeling to take it from her, holding it close to your chin to allow the steam to flow over your features, warming your nose. “So,” Maria said, drawing your attention from where you’d been keeping an eye on Troy, keeping the hot mug away from him. “First, you and Tommy fight, and then you ignore your best friend?”

You stared at her, teeth clenched in shock, and recalled the way Ellie had mentioned the boy. Clearly, he was pestering everybody who knew you. Maria’s eyebrows raised, looking expectantly at you.

“‘M not ignoring anybody.” You murmured, voice catching in your throat as you spoke, and you took a sip of boiling hot tea to get rid of the lump that had formed. The burn soothed you, in a strange way, warming your insides the slightest bit as you breathed steam.

“Mhm, is that why he’s been ‘round here, bugging us ever since he got out of the damn infirmary?” Maria asked, expression tightening slightly as you winced, and knew she had got you.

You shook your head, moving your other hand from underneath your leg to cradle the mug in both palms, breathing a relieved breath at the warmth finally reaching your fingers. “Doesn’t know how to stop, does he?” You said, moving your eyes to the swirling drink in the mug, not looking up even as Maria hummed. “I’ll tell him to leave you be.”

“Ah, but that would require talking to him, which you clearly haven’t been doing.” She told you, a slight teasing lilt to her voice, to make it seem less serious than it truly was.

Maria remembered the night you and Tommy had arrived home, with you shoving at his shoulder whilst he laughed loudly, a bright teasing smile on his expression. It was probably the lightest she had ever seen the two of you, with Tommy not feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders for just a moment, and you smiling like you hadn’t faced unspeakable things. She remembered the way you had scrambled to correct Tommy’s statements, whacking a hand against his forearm when he interrupted you.

She remembered Troy waking up from where she hadn’t long settled him down, and remembered the way you had immediately gone to calm him down after hissing a “Look what you’ve done now!” at Tommy, who had only laughed.

Maria remembered the way her head had settled against her husband’s shoulder, exhausted to her very bones, motherhood feeling much harder than she remembered. Especially with her aged bones, keeping up with a baby was more difficult than she remembered. She didn’t want to think about what it would be like when he could actually run around. Maria had just been grateful to have you there, to be able to rest with Tommy, trusting you to look after her son.

You challenged her motherly instincts, sure, but Troy was on another level — it was a lot more to deal with when your child wasn’t basically self-sufficient.

“I’m going to,” You said, though there was doubt in your voice. “I am.” You repeated, as if that would solidify your statement, as if it would make it any more truthful.

“Listen,” Maria sighed, saying your name, and waiting for you to look up from your mug before she continued. “I know what happened on that patrol. I know. And it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, so why are you ignoring Jesse?”

You swallowed, scratching a fingernail over a small crumb of clay that hadn’t gotten smoothed down before being fired. “I just… I care about him, and he could’ve died, Maria. Tommy was right, I—I was irresponsible, and I could’ve gotten us both killed.”

Maria shook her head immediately, picking Troy up when he began to fuss, and she stopped you. “No, Tommy was speaking from a place of anger. Of fear. You did everything right.” She affirmed, staring intensely at you, as if daring you to argue against her. “Except, maybe, going after Joel, but I know why you did that. I get it. If I had been in your position, if it were my…— I would’ve done the same thing.”

“I just didn’t want him to die, because of me.” You said, voice quiet again, and Maria’s heart ached for you, something squeezing so tightly in her chest that it physically hurt. “I don’t want Tommy to hate me forever, either.” You added after a few quiet moments, eyes following a bubble around the edge of the mug.

“He doesn’t hate you, kid, not at all. He was scared, he didn’t want to lose you.” Maria reasoned, but you still didn’t feel better, not after just how angry he had gotten. Not after he had practically shoved you out of his sight, the moment he was done yelling, unable to even look at you. Not after he had sent Joel as a messenger, refusing to speak to you himself.

“Maybe,” You offered, because it was the best you could do. You couldn’t agree with her, couldn’t disagree, either. The only person who would actually be able to decide those things was Tommy — and he was nowhere to be found. “I’ll talk to Jesse.” You decided to say, in the end, hands gripping tighter on the mug. Just saying it aloud made it seem all the more real, and you regretted it a moment afterwards, thoughts stuck on what Jesse would say, what his family would say.

“Good.” Maria said, nodding at you, “He’s a good kid, he deserves to know his friend is still here.” She stood to her feet, heading to the kitchen with Troy in her arms, waiting for her to feed him.

Twenty minutes later, when Maria had gone upstairs to put Troy down for a nap, the front door banged open, a rush of cold air being let in.

“Maria!” Tommy yelled out, his voice panicked, and you could hear him shuffling through his bag in the still-open doorway. With furrowed brows, you placed the cold mug down on the floor beside the sofa, standing up and making your way to peek into the hallway. “Maria, you here?” He shouted again, more desperate this time, and when you finally saw him, you saw that he had snow still clinging to him, and he had brought clumps of it in on his boots, slowly melting puddles on their floor.

“Tommy?” You questioned quietly, both not wanting to speak to him, but also getting increasingly concerned by his behaviour. His head snapped up to you, and he blinked in surprise, his shoulders slumping and hands pausing in their rummaging.

“Oh, thank god.” Tommy said, approaching you quickly and wrapping his arms around you tightly before you could get a word in. You blinked, shocked, and slowly wrapped your own arms around the man, who just held your head closer to him in return. “You scared the shit outta me.” He admitted, a slight tremor to his voice. He breathed out a heavy sigh, arms squeezing, and you wanted to look at him to express your confusion.

“Is everything okay?” Maria asked, a slight panic to her own voice, but she relaxed at the image before her. Tommy’s eyes opened as he rested his head on your own, and he looked to his wife as he nodded gently.

He moved away from you slightly, hands moving to hold your shoulders tightly, finally able to see your confused face. He sighed, his shoulders dropping like they had been holding the weight of the world. “I went to the shop, wanted to apologise. Couldn’t find you or your things, and it was freezing.” Tommy told you, his head dropping until his chin rested against his chest for a moment. “Thought you left.”

His arms pulled you back to his chest, and you didn’t resist him, though your heart was racing in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

Maria frowned, “I didn’t know you were going. The heater’s broken, so I told her to stay with us.”

Tommy nodded again, his breath held in his chest as he let his heart rate calm down. You let him hold on to you until he was ready to let go, just keeping your face hidden in his shoulder as your arms wrapped loosely around him, fingers numb from the cold once again.

When he finally released you, you took a small step back, cheeks warm with remaining shame from your last conversation with the man. The rest of you, however, was freezing, especially since you had removed your multitude of layers in the warm house. Tommy frowned as you shivered, cursing under his breath as he turned to shut his front door, his frown deepening when he saw the water covering the hallway in front of the door.

He waved Maria away when she gave him a stern look, and she nodded once she saw his expression, smiling tightly at you before heading back upstairs to settle Troy back down, after he had been fussing from his father’s shouting.

Tommy turned to where you stood, hands wrung together to try and generate some more warmth between your digits. He sighed again, a seemingly very common thing for him at the moment, and he stood up straighter to talk to you.

“I’m sorry,” He told you, his voice reflecting his words in its apologetic tone. “I should never have spoken to you the way I did. Wasn’t fair of me to blame you for things that weren’t your fault. Or for me to judge you for doin’ exactly what I would’ve. What I should’ve.”

You stared at him, at the way his hands clenched and unclenched into fists at his sides, a slightly nervous habit, you had noticed.

“Tommy, you were right,” You responded, continuing on even as he shook his head, “I messed up, and I could’ve gotten Jesse, or Joel, or even myself killed.”

“No.” He said firmly, reaching out and holding onto your shoulders once again, his grip tight as if you might slip away. “I was wrong. You hear me? I should have been proud, proud that you were so brave, that you saved your friend and your— and Joel. I should have been proud that you made your way back, that you did it without some old shithead tellin’ you what to do.” He rambled on, shutting his eyes and looking almost regretful.

You ducked your head, feeling far too emotional, a lump formed in your throat at his words. Just somebody who you looked up to, who you trusted, telling you that you hadn’t done anything wrong… it was almost too much.

As many mixed feelings as you may have had over the whole situation, the most prevalent one was guilt. It had been surrounding you, weighing so heavily on you, hell, you didn’t even realise how much it had been pulling you down until Tommy came in, lifting it all off of your shoulders.

“You did good, kid.” He told you, squeezing your shoulders, and you hated the way your lip started trembling.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

Tommy laughed, the sound watery and almost broken off, “You can cry as much as you want.” He pulled you in, feeling your arms squeeze around his middle as he held on to you so tightly, he was almost sure he’d never let go again.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Your closed fist was raised up to the door, a hair’s width away from making contact with it, but you had frozen. And it wasn’t because of the cold.

There was something that had settled heavily in your stomach, making your whole body feel heavy and slow. You felt, distantly, like you might throw up with the way it was sitting, but tried not to think on it too much. You were aware of the way your chest was rising and falling, almost too aware, and you tried to put it out of your mind as you attempted to steel yourself.

“You gonna knock, or are you just gonna keep standing there, looking stupid?” A voice asked from behind you, making you spin on your heels, fist pulled away from the door. You held a hand against your chest, breathing a heavy sigh as you saw the culprit of the scare.

“You’re an asshole.” You murmured, eyes studying your beaten up boots that were covered in melting snow. You looked up to him, and felt some relief when you saw Jesse crack a slight smile at your reaction. It faded far too quickly for your liking.

“So?” He prompted, eyebrows raising at you.

You frowned, repressing the urge to grumble at him, but you knew that he should’ve been the one angry at you. Hell, he probably was. “I just came to say… I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“Are you kidding?” You asked, annoyed. But when his expression didn’t budge, you sighed through your nose. “Okay. I’m sorry for ignoring you after the infirmary, and I’m sorry you got put into the infirmary at all.” You said, looking back down the where the melting snow was seeping into the hole at the side of your boots. You should probably get new ones.

Jesse didn’t say anything for a moment, and you picked at your fingernails while you stared at the ground, your nerves sending your pulse into a fluttery mess.

Finally, you heard him snickering, and your head snapped up. “Well, I just can’t believe this. You, apologising?” You glared as his smile slowly grew, though you knew that the whole thing wasn’t quite solved, at least it was good to know that Jesse was still acting his usual asshole self with you. “Come on, you little asshole.” He said, gesturing for you to follow him. You did.

He glanced at you every so often, shaking his head at your stoic expression.

The two of you arrived at the dining hall soon enough, standing in the queues silently whilst waiting to collect food, until Jesse nudged you and led you over to the table you so often shared.

“You do realise I would never blame you for something that happened on patrol, right?” He asked, eyebrow raised as he awaited your response, shovelling food into his mouth as if he was starving. He reminded you an awful lot of Ellie, in that way. You wondered if they had met.

With a roll of your eyes, “Well, now, yeah. Do we have to talk about this? I said sorry, didn’t I?” You murmured the last part, shovelling your own food into your mouth, refraining from rolling your eyes again when Jesse snickered at you.

“How could I forget? You prefer to brood rather than talk about your feelings.” He responded.

“Okay, I don’t brood—”

“Yes, you do—”

“And do you enjoy talking about… feelings?” You said, ignoring his interruption. He stared at your raised eyebrows, the expectant look on your face.

“Sometimes, I do.”

“Maybe when it comes to—”

“Dina!” Jesse said in a high pitched tone, cutting you off and looking at you with widened eyes. You looked behind you, seeing the girl of the hour approaching your table, an amused look in her eye. She nudged you with a grin as she walked past, sitting on your left and smiling widely at Jesse’s surprised expression.

After settling down, she looked back up to meet Jesse’s eyes. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

You snorted out a laugh, not expecting to hear such an old expression coming from her — it sounded like something Joel might say. Jesse glared at you, unamused by the grin you and Dina shared.

“Yeah, Jesse.” You goaded, smiling at his indignant huff. “Not want to talk about feelings, anymore?” You asked. You leaned backwards as he swiped his arm out, trying to knock the cutlery from your hand as it was heading towards your mouth. Dina laughed at his failed attempt.

“So you two are talking again, then?” Dina said when her laughing faded, and you glared at the way Jesse grinned, unhappy with the fact he was telling her such things. You supposed that you couldn’t blame him — after all, you had spoken to Maria about it. It just so happened that Jesse was your only friend your actual age.

“Unfortunately.” You grumbled, eyes narrowed at the man.

“Unfortunately,” Jesse mocked, making a face at you. “Somebody finally came to their senses!” He said, after he was done poking at his food as he frowned at you.

“Somebody is having regrets about it.” You responded in turn, smiling sarcastically at him.

“Back to normal, then.” Dina concluded, smiling when the two of you nodded. She didn’t know you all too well, but from the time she had spent with you in Jesse’s infirmary room, she was a fan. You clearly cared about Jesse, way more than you would admit, and she could admire that.

You looked at Jesse, “Back to normal.” He echoed, smiling at you.

You pretended that the sigh you let out wasn’t one of relief.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You should really clean this place up, you know.” Jesse commented as you unlocked the door to the pottery shop, his eyes scanning around the room, the chill to the air making him shove his hands in his pockets. He looked at the dust covering the surfaces you usually cut clay on and raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I’ve been a bit busy.” You replied, moving to the newly fixed heater that Tommy had brought over when he walked you back to the shop that very morning.

“Oh, yeah, avoiding me.” Jesse said, grinning mischievously when you shot him an annoyed look over your shoulder, focusing on turning the heater on, placing your freezing hands in front of it when it finally started shooting out some warmth. You sighed at the sting, just glad to feel your hands once again.

You sat down on a dusty stool, turning to Jesse when he sat down beside you, relishing in the heater that was finally working. “Okay, so maybe I’m not the best with… feelings.”

“No kidding,” Jesse snorted, his smile fading when you stared at him, deadpan. “Sorry, go on.”

“But I can say that I do care about you. Sometimes. When you don’t piss me off.” You told him, drawing in a shaky breath that filled your lungs with cold air. “I just… relationships are complicated, you know? And painful, a lot of the time. I didn’t wanna go through that again, I guess, but you’re persistent.”

Jesse smiled as you spoke, somewhat amused by your words, but even you could see the softness to it. The absence of that teasing edge his grin usually held. It was reassuring.

“If this is about Joel—” Jesse attempted, shutting his mouth when you cut him off.

“—It’s not about him.” You interrupted, quickly, the back of your neck feeling hot despite the heater being quite far from you. “Or maybe it is, I don’t know.” You added on, after thinking about it for a second. You generally tried not to think of Joel, or the whole situation with him and Ellie, but could it really have effected you that much? It’s not like Joel was the first person you had lost.

He was the first to walk away without a fight, though.

A small part of you fought that fact, because he came back. Did that not mean anything?

“Can I speak yet?” Jesse asked, a slight teasing lilt to his voice. It brought you out of your thoughts, and you smiled despite the topic at hand. With a nod from you, Jesse went on, “Thanks. I’m just saying, maybe Joel isn’t all that bad. I’m not defending what he did, but the guy clearly cares about you.”

“So I should just— just forgive him? For leaving me?” You asked, looking at Jesse as if he had all the answers.

“I don’t know, that’s up to you,” He said. “Maybe you don’t need to forgive him. Maybe it’s time to just… move on with your life. Forget about what he did, and focus on what he can do. You miss him, don’t you?”

You frowned, looking away from the intensity of Jesse’s gaze. The two of you were friends, yes, and he was the closest friend you’d ever had, maybe besides Ellie. But being so open, it was strange. Likely the effect of the apocalyptic world you lived in, and perhaps it was another difference between that world and the little safe haven of Jackson, Wyoming.

“‘Course I do. He and Tess… they were everything I had.” You replied, your eyebrows creasing at the thought of the woman, at the memory of your life in Boston QZ. It made you realise that it had been a while since Maria had cut your hair, and Tess would’ve chastised you for not reminding her to cut it if you had let it gotten this long in Boston.

It all felt so far away.

When you thought of Tess, your heart ached. Though, it wasn’t quite the same as it had been on your journey with Joel and Ellie. You felt her absence, maybe more than ever, but it wasn’t all bitter. You felt… appreciative of her. She may be gone, but at least you got to have her for a time.

You really wished that she could’ve seen this place, though. You often wondered if she would’ve liked pottery.

Joel would probably know.

“Tess may be gone, but Joel isn’t. Not anymore.” Jesse reminded you, hesitant in his words. You realised that you had never really told him, or anyone, about Tess.

“Y’know, if Tess were here, she’d probably tell me to get over myself,” You laughed at the thought, a sad, watery laugh, but Jesse smiled with you despite not knowing the woman. “She’d kick Joel’s ass, though.”

“Is that even possible? Joel’s like… badass, man.”

“Nobody was more badass than Tess. She was awesome. Used to boss Joel around, all the time, she ran half of the smuggling underground at Boston.” You smiled when Jesse raised his eyebrows, surprised. “And she used to cut my hair. Always told me it was better to keep my hair short, even though she had long hair.”

“Bit hypocritical, isn’t it?” Jesse asked, humour in his words.

You shrugged, “Think she was just trying to keep me safe, in her own way. Tess didn’t want to keep me, to start with. Joel convinced her.”

The more you thought about it, the more you realised that it really was because of Joel that you were allowed to stay with the two of them. You remember hearing them argue on a few occasions, something about a great family that Tess knew nearby. But Joel had never let you go too far.

He’d told you about Tess’s family, though it wasn’t really his place to do so. He had done it in an attempt to comfort you one night when you were young, after you had gotten upset at Tess disregarding you yet again. Joel had explained that she didn’t like getting attached to anybody, especially kids, after she lost her own child. He had told you that it was what they had bonded over, at the start.

“Sounds like this Joel guy really wanted you around, huh?” Jesse said teasingly, only grinning when you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Shut up, you asshole, when the hell did you get all wise?” You asked, glaring at him as he feigned an innocent look. You cracked first, smiling at his expression, feeling a softness to the grin as he matched it with one of his own.

“Distance makes the heart grow wiser, I guess.”

“It’s fonder, Jesse. It makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Shut up, I’m the wise one here.”

You looked at Jesse then, as the two of you shared a laugh, and you wondered if this is how friendship felt before the apocalypse, or if that warm feeling in your chest was exclusive to post-apocalyptic relationships.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“Didn’t think you’d be coming back here.” Joel commented gruffly as he made his way to the kitchen with a nervous energy about him.

“Me neither,” You said idly, watching him fumble around the kitchen. You wondered if it was just a Miller thing, being terrible in the kitchen. It certainly seemed like something Joel and Tommy had in common, but you hadn’t really thought about it when Joel had asked if you wanted some tea, in a bit of a panic at your presence.

He didn’t say anything in response to that, seemingly mulling your words over. Joel didn’t really know what to make of your presence, certainly not expecting to see you at his front door when he opened it.

“Oh, wait,” You said suddenly, causing him to look over to you in the doorway from where he had been about to put tea in the two mugs in front of him. You pulled your backpack around on your shoulder, digging through it for a moment before pulling out a bag. Joel’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked between you and the bag, waiting for an explanation. “Look.” You said, handing it over to him.

He took the bag, opening it up and unable to help the grin that broke onto his face at the sight of coffee beans, the scent of them immediately soothing some of the man’s tension.

“Where’d you get these?” Joel asked you, his voice lighter than you had heard it since Boston. The sound of it made you grin, despite everything.

“Found ‘em on a patrol, a while ago. Been hiding them from Tommy, so don’t tell him.” You responded, realising that this was probably the lightest conversation you and Joel had held for a very long time. How long had it been?

“Wouldn’t dream of it. He’s a thief, always has been.” Joel said, smiling. “Right, the tea.” He said after a moment, placing the bag of coffee beans beside the mugs he’d set out.

You snickered as you noticed the mugs, grinning as Joel turned to you in question. “Seems like Tommy’s not the only thief in the family.” You said, gesturing toward the white and orange mug he’d placed down, recognising it from the batch you’d given Tommy and Maria.

Joel, at least, had the decency to look slightly embarrassed about stealing the orange coloured owl mug you had made and gifted to his brother. Either that, or embarrassed about getting caught. It had slipped his mind, really, more of a habit to grab it out of the cupboard, considering it was the one he used all the time.

He opened his mouth to try and craft some sort of defence, but felt any words he might’ve had die on his tongue as he turned to you. Seeing you smiling, well, it wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You often smiled at Tommy and Maria when he caught sight of you with the two of them, hell, you smiled a lot around that friend of yours, Jesse. Joel even remembers the times you would smile back in Boston, even though life in the QZ was much harder than life in Jackson.

But it had been a long time since Joel had seen you smile in his presence.

Each time you and Joel interacted after he had left you behind, your face had a way of falling, of crumpling in on itself before it hardened, staring at him with an expression of stone.

It had his heart aching in his chest, finally seeing you smile around him. He hadn’t realised quite how much he had missed it.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, after he stayed silent for a moment too long, the smile on your face fading into something of confusion. Joel shook himself out of his melancholy thoughts, clearing his throat and offering up his best smile in return.

“Nothin’,” Joel answered. “Nothin’ at all.”

You let his response linger in the air between the two of you for a few moments, and it seemed that the both of you were thinking of how life used to be. You were a long way from Boston.

“I could’ve made you your own, y’know.” You said, after a the silence stretched on, reaching out and picking up the mug he had stolen, looking at all the imperfections that had seemed invisible, all that time ago when you had made it. You’d like to believe you were much better in your craft, now.

“I like this one, just fine.” Joel responded, plucking it from your hands with a raised eyebrow. You snickered at his actions, moving to look around the kitchen, missing the soft grin stretched over the man’s face.

“God, you fixed that?” You asked suddenly, taking a wide step to look at the slight imperfection on the countertop, where you remember carving a deep gash in the material one night by shattering a particularly heavy plate upon the counter. You were almost sure it wasn’t fixable, that perhaps it could look better, but would always be extremely noticeable.

Joel nodded, back to his task of sorting out tea, but spoke when realising you were faced away from him. “Oh, yeah. Took me a couple tries, though.”

You hummed in response, going back to looking around the kitchen that you remembered so well. Most of the damage you had caused on the room had been fixed, which created a strange feeling in your chest, though you couldn’t tell quite what it was. Relief? Disappointment?

It wasn’t as hard to be in this house as you had expected it to be. You were awaiting that crushing feeling in your chest, that emptiness that left your ribs aching. Surprisingly, you felt… light, almost.

Joel didn’t know exactly what to expect.

On one hand, he wanted to feel hopeful, to belief that this would be the beginning of your relationship with him healing. But then on the other hand, he was reminded of just how much he had hurt you, of the tears that had spilled from your eyes when he had left you behind, the grit of your teeth when he had returned. He tried his best not to expect anything at all, to just remain… happy that you were here, in this moment.

Even if there were no other moments like this one.

He tried not to focus on how much that thought hurt.

“You and Ellie settled in, then?” You asked, trying to fill the silence in the room. There was also that part of you that wanted to know, that wanted to know everything.

Joel repressed the sigh that built in his chest. “Gettin’ there. She, uh, she’s had a tough time, but you know Ellie. She loves to be gettin’ into everybody’s business.” He refrained from looking in your direction when he asked you the same question. “You settled in alright here?” He wanted to add more on, but thought it best not to try his luck.

“I guess so.” You responded, thinking of how different your life was now, to how it was back in Boston, or even to how it was when you were on the road with Joel and Ellie. “It was… tough at first, but Tommy and Maria were good to me. And I got the shop, so.”

“And that boy?” Joel asked, trying to remain casual, though you heard the suspicion.

You smiled at his question, at the way he avoided looking at you. Back in Boston, when you had been much, much younger, Joel had tried to get the thought into your brain that boys were bad. He was protective of you, and distrustful towards the world. You couldn’t blame him.

“Jesse? He’s, uh, he’s my best friend.” You told the man, shaking your head at the way his shoulders relaxed the smallest bit. “He’s a good guy, you know. I care about him.”

As protective as Joel was, though he knew that he didnt really have any right to be, he couldn’t deny that it was nice that you had a friend your age. That you could count on someone, could trust someone, out of your immediate circle. He remembers that you had been lonely in the QZ, with only him and Tess for company, nobody your age that you could speak to or trust.

It had been a relief, almost, when you and Ellie had developed a friendship on the journey. Joel only hoped that the two of you could have that again.

“I’m happy for you, kiddo.” Joel responded, the nickname coming out almost like a reflex, like it was involuntary. It was what he had always called you, though, so you weren’t surprised.

“Jesse, uh— it was actually Jesse’s idea for me to come here.” You said, and Joel couldn’t deny the relief that spread through him when you didn’t immediately reject the nickname, or pull away at the sound of it.

Joel floundered for a moment, looking for something to say, eventually settling on uttering a quiet, “Sounds like a smart kid.”

You smiled, taking the mug off of Joel as he finally finished making the tea, avoiding your eyes. “I guess.” You replied, cradling the warm ceramic mug tightly in your hands. “Somehow, he seems to know what I need to hear, before even I know.” You said, humour coating your fond tone.

Joel smiled. “Sounds familiar. Tess was always like that, with me.”

It was one of the first times Joel had openly mentioned her name since she died. For some reason, it made your shoulders feel much lighter, like the burden of not being able to talk about her had been weighing you down.

“I miss her.” You confessed, looking for his reaction.

“I do, too, kiddo.” Joel admitted, his words softer than you had ever heard them. You thought about what it must’ve been like for him, to lose the companion he had held as close as he dared for close to two decades. You couldn’t imagine.

You hesitated, opening your mouth, before closing it again, only going ahead when Joel gave you a reassuring nod. “You knew her much better than I ever did.”

“I suppose.”

“Do you think you could… I don’t know, just— just tell me about her, one day?” You asked, the hope in your words making Joel’s heart ache.

“‘Course. I’ll tell you whatever you’d like to know.” Joel said, smiling gently at you, nodding his head towards the living room, a soft look on his face as he sat down beside you on the couch. “Ask away, kiddo.”

You were quiet for a moment, feeling lighter than you had possibly your whole life. “Do you think she’d like pottery?” You asked, sharing a knowing smile with Joel. He laughed at the concept, something so amusing about the idea of Tess Servopoulos, the renowned smuggling boss, sitting in your shop and making dinnerware.

“If it was with you, I reckon she’d have liked anything.” Joel responded, something truthful to his words.

You smiled, and asked more about her.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

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