#I spent too much time on this it needs a step by step progress
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Asking about Adam;
//A.N: This was originally going to be an RP, but due to burnout, paired with a desire to move the story along I have decided to progress the plot of Ninlil’s end Via a canon Story. Please know I will be doing my best to represent @theholyone-hh as close to his character as I can. However, I will never do as well as the original Mod who runs him so if he seems a bit OOC, I do apologize. //
TW: depressive episode, feelings of worthlessness, anxiety and yearning. Clumsy attempts at comfort, maybe some bad decisions. Some realizations Because of the topics discussed this will be a 16+ fic. If you’re feeling these types of emotions please go seek out proper help.
This isn’t going to be super long, but it is gonna be a longer story, strap in folks.
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Enjoy my story below the cut;
Ninlil had slowly been going mad, between the time that had been spent in her cage combined with her heartbreak of being left behind while others moved on, she had fallen into a depression.
Even now she laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling well into the day, yet to eat, yet to clean herself - not that such a thing was truly needed in heaven, though it still showed a lack of her own self care - and yet say hello to her keeper Host.
The winged woman started to question if what she had done was worth it… not even her sacrifice and subsequent soul selling, before that… when she was alive. Were her actions worth it?
She was always the care taker, always the protector. And yes, those she watched over never asked her to do so, she had done it because she loved them and didn’t know how else to show it…
The things she had done, the blood she had spilled, the lives she had prematurely ended for the sake of preserving her beloved…
Was it for nothing? Did she waste her time… did she waste her life?
Her breathing turned harsh as tears ran down her cheeks. A whine lodged in her throat that she simply refused to let out…
Had she truly being abandoned by those whom she sacrificed Everything for? Was she selfish for wanting them to care a bit more and not move on so fast?
But… she wanted them to move on, she wanted them to be happy, she wanted them to find peace… why did it hurt now that they were actually doing it thanks to her sacrifice…
Was she a bad person for hoping they’d still try to save her even though she knew that it was futile and if they dared to try it could result in them getting hurt? Or worse, their very souls being destroyed?
No… no, she couldn’t be selfish… she had given up too much to waste on such self-serving wishes…
But then why did it still hurt so much?
Her breathing turned harsh as she gripped the angelic fabric over her chest, the erratic and rhythmic beating of her heart a brand against her palm. Just like the warm golden hearts gripped in her hand with the fabric were a constant reminder of what exactly she had done.
She had died for love… twice…
Did that make her honorable… or a fool?
Her other hand covered her mouth as a sob forced it’s way out and she curled up into herself, laying on her side as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror…
Her eyes weren’t hers anymore…
They were His.
Haha! Pathetic!… I’m pathetic! She thought to herself with bitterness as she tried desperately to hold back her tears.
She didn’t hear the door click open as God stepped in.
“Birdy?”
His voice came out hesitantly.
“What is wrong? What ails you?”
Now,
God was very very old, God was wise and God saw all…
But, still, he was ill-equipped at dealing with emotions. Having been alone for as long as he has, his emotional maturity is stunted, and he didn’t know exactly what humans required.
They were little things to him. God looking at humans, as humans might a smaller creature, like song birds or squirrels or even ants at times.
True, his Birdy has taught him many a valuable lesson. She has taught him about how humans utilize Free Will differently, how humans had feelings and needed to be treated like people, how children make mistakes, how pride is a powerful thing, that 10,000 years is a long time…
She was patient and a good teacher, his sweet little Birdy, a child herself compared to his vast and endless existence, but still wise and gentle.
He liked her. It’s why he kept her.
Perhaps, in his mind, he was aware that he should release her from his sculptors cabin and allow her to Roam and Experience the heavens he had created to house the mortal souls… souls like her…
But he enjoyed her company too much.
And she never asked him to leave.
So why bring it up?
Still though, as he let himself into her private room, he still thought himself ill-equipped to deal with… whatever this was.
Part of him wanted to just leave the room, but something stopped him.
“Birdy… talk to me child. Why do you weep?”
He sat on the foot of the bed, his massive height making it creak, but it held under his weight because he willed it to.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
He awkwardly - but gently - patted her back in a sorry gesture of comfort.
But for Ninlil, it was enough to know he was trying, and it made her sob harder. Not in pain, but that someone cared, and it was the very person she had sold her soul to so that he’d stop hurting the people she had been growing to love… that she did love.
It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad.
She cried for 30 more minutes before the sobs finally ceased and she just breathed manually and with steady concentration to force her body and her mind to calm itself. Still curled in on herself in a vain attempt at self-comfort.
During her sobs, her head had ended up on Gods lap, his hand - still awkward- petting her hair.
“What brought this on my Birdy? What has happened?”
God asked softly, seeing that Ninlil had finally calmed.
There was a tense beat of silence before Ninlil spoke, her voice raspy and thick from her sobs.
“…. Have I been good? Did I make the right call? Was my sacrifice not in vain?”
It was God’s turn to be silent. Mulling over her words and wondering if there was a correct answer. He settled on the truth.
“You, have surpassed all expectations I had for you… You have restored my faith in humanity and for your sacrifices and good deeds, I deemed it fit to restore your divinity. You’ve been a bit more than, Good.”
He paused as he thought over his next words.
“As for the outcome of your sacrifices… I suppose it depends on what you deem as a success… Lucifer has moved on with his damned bride. They seem to have re-found their happiness, the First Man and the Second Woman are moving on and finding their peace as well. Though Adam still needs to undergo his final two remaining punishments.”
His hand jerked as Ninlil flinched beneath him, having not expected that movement from her. He expected her next words even less, though, at this point he supposed he should’ve seen it coming. She was a loyal woman after all.
The dedication she had to the original duo and the Morningstar was indeed admirable.
“Is there anyway you can leave it at the nightmares he’s already had? Maybe as payment for the tail feathers you took?” Her voice pleading.
“Pet.”
He growled, his voice low and full of warning.
“Your feathers were taken as punishment for placing your soul and my Power in danger by allowing yourself contact with a damned soul before your divinity was properly settled…”
He eyes her until she shrunk beneath his gaze, surrendering to his presence.
“And you know the deal, 3 nightmares, and then freedom. You will not sacrifice more of yourself for him. As you’ve already mentioned so many times; We are all over 10,000 years old. He can handle himself.”
He ran a hand through her hair again as if to push his order into her head, both in comfort and a mocking reminder he saw her as just that… a pet.
“Yes sir…” she conceded, knowing there was nothing she could do. Not against him. Not when he owned her soul. She felt her desire to argue his words and plead her case for her beloveds die in her chest before it was even a proper thought. His hold on her complete.
“Good girl.”
He carefully pat her head again. Praising her and rewarding her obedience.
Indeed she was a good child. He had chosen well.
“Now. What can I do to make you feel better and forget about all this, sad nonsense?”
He waved a hand frivolously at the word, as if her depression was a minor inconvenience.
To him… perhaps it was…
Ninlil sighed as she sat up and began to comb her fingers through her hair, attempting to regain her composure and her appearance.
“I need to wash, I probably look a mess… afterwards… I’d like to rest in the sun for a bit if that’s okay with you Sir.”
She looked up at him, and she wondered if she looked as pathetic as she felt. Emotionally drained, physically exhausted, eyes red and puffy, skin pale from crying.
Though if she did, God made no mention of it. Instead, he simply nodded.
“I shall allow this, I will meet you outside, do hurry.”
Ninlil nodded as she felt obedience wrap around her, urging her to hurry and obey. The side effect of her deal.
Still she took care in her task, allowing herself to be a bit pampered after her earlier violent purge of emotions.
Still though; She was outside, laying in the sun-warmed grass in under 20 minutes, God beside her, joining her. Enjoying the basking rays of golden warmth.
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There they stayed for hours. Sunbathing as though it could wash the darkness within her mind away.
Though, there were certain thoughts that still plagued her. Her mind still running.
She wanted to check on Adam, she wanted to check on Lucifer and check on Eve… she wished they were the ones beside her right now, enjoying the sunshine rays. And comforting her after her cries…
But alas, God wouldn’t permit that…
Her mind still wondered, thinking to other people she missed.
Her brother… Though, god was lenient enough to grant the siblings some free time together.
Yes, seeing Conner again after seven years had brought more happiness into her life than she could remember. She felt as though her heart was gonna burst. God allowed Conner over, and allowed her to leave with him… so long as she was back before sundown.
How she had missed him…
It had given her endless relief when she had learned that her long deceased grandparents had been the ones to take Conner in. He was still with family. And even better,
He was slowly growing. He would eventually have the chance to be an adult. He wouldn’t be a child forever.
She had wept with joy upon learning that.
Her thoughts wondered agin,
To another man she loved…
To a human she had loved…
Adam…
No not That Adam…
Her Adam, the human Adam, the brilliant doctor who was full of light and life.
The man she had ended her human life to protect…
The man she had condemned herself to hell for.
Her first love…
“Sir?” She found herself speaking up.
God lazily rolled his head to look at her, having been enjoying the sun’s rays.
“Hmm?”
“May-“ She hesitated, suddenly nervous.
“Well? Spit it out Birdy.”
God rolled his eyes impatiently as he adjusted so he was lying on his back. Still enjoying the sun.
Ninlil took a deep breath and asked. “May I see someone on earth?”
God froze. Before he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“Who?”
“There was a man I left behind a little over five years ago. I loved him very much…. He’s the reason I willingly damned myself to hell. I would like to check on him. See if he’s doing okay.” Ninlil would speak a little too quickly, needing to force herself to make sure her words were slow.
God thought about it for a bit before he sighed.
“I… suppose I can grant you this. You have been good lately and I suppose you deserve a reward.”
He raised a hand and with a crackle of pure divine energy, summoned a viewing sphere that glowed even in the bright daylight.
“Well, what was the mortal’s name?”
Ninlil but her lip. “Adam…”
God froze and slowly turned to look at Ninlil and Ninlil was quick to raise her hands in defense.
“Not that Adam! This Adam was a surgeon! A very talented one! They are NOT the same man! They just happen to share the same name I promise!”
God still started at her just long enough for Ninlil’s heart to drop before he sighed and shook his head.
“Oh child, what am I gonna do with you….”
He asked her. Before he turned his body to properly face her. The glowing sphere of divine light between them. And his face very serious.
“Do you love this man?”
The question gave Ninlil a pause…
She hadn’t thought about that in a while. And even a month ago the answer would been easy.
Yes, everything she had done was for him.
The deals, the murders, the monsterzation of herself, the burial of her peace, the always going, the never resting… EVERYTHING… was for him…
Even a month ago, his face alone was the picture in her mind when she thought of the word ‘Love’…
But now, so much has happened.
Now, three other faces flashed in her mind when she thought of that word… two in the forefront…
Lucifer… and Adam…
The former angel who she died for as she had her human beloved, the former angel who made her laugh, the former angel who carried her with a shocking strength when she was too weak to move on her own…
And the First Man. Adam. The man who held her safe as she took her last breath once again, the man who begged her to stay with him even as she bled out. Who held her safe when she wept through the anniversary of her brother’s death, who made her smile and laugh again, who made her feel important and baked with her. Who reminded her what is was to feel strong, yet cared for.
She did still love her Beloved… but she didn’t just love him alone anymore… she… didn’t know how to feel…
“I… don’t know….” She found herself saying, unable to help but feel like she was betraying her beloved in that moment. Tears welling up in her eyes again.
“Birdy, i would make another Deal with you. Because seeing you hurting does not please me.”
Ninlil gulped. “What would the deal be sir?”
“If whatever you see, causes you pain, and pushes you deeper into your sadness. I will remove this mortal from your memories so that you won’t hurt from them ever again…
But, if you are pleased with what you see, than I will ensure his safety for the rest of his mortal life…. If he’s as good as you say, He will know no hardships and can focus his energy on helping others.”
He holds out a hand.
“Deal?”
Ninlil started at his hand as her thoughts raced, her eyes wide and flowing with tears that left mini rivers down her cheeks as her head struggled to wrap itself around God’s words.
He would be safe… forever safe, free from any harm that may befall him. Just as she had sacrificed everything in hopes of accomplishing…
Or,
He would be forgotten, the reason for everything she had sacrificed, the reason she had gone to hell in the first place. The reason she had suffered as she had suffered and made the choices that had shaped her as a woman… simply… gone…
Was it worth it…
Was she that curious….
‘Yes’ She decided. ‘Yes she was, she needed to know that she hadn’t died in vain… she needed to see him…”
She placed her hand in his much larger grip and squeezed.
“Deal.”
The constraints of the deal wrapped around her like chains, and she felt a twinge of fear for a bad outcome. Suddenly aware that she was currently unable to lie to the ancient being before Her.
As the deal settled, the glowing sphere began to glow impossibly brighter. And images began to dance in the shadows before becoming clear.
She saw her beloved… the human Adam…
He was smiling, talking to a patient and giving what looked like a good diagnosis. The patient, who had been holding the hand of their spouse while listening to Adam’s words burst into tears and held their loved one in a tight embrace before enthusiastically shaking Adam’s hand and offering a load of sincere, tear-filled thank you’s.
Then Adam had gone through the rest of his day, conducting surgeries, talking to patients, and reassuring an old man who didn’t have enough money for his wife’s broken wrist that if he instead paid with some fresh venison, consider the price waived.
He was always like that. Ninlil remembered, So generous and kind, becoming a doctor not for the money, but for the pure joy of making others feel better.
That desire to help people no matter what is what had attracted Ninlil to him in the first place… how she would have done anything to protect that smile.
He was good… so good.
Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a shock that when he ended the day, he went to his truck, and once he had slid in, and fished in his pocket and pulled out a ring…
Ninlil froze, not even daring to breathe.
She watched unblinkingly as he carefully slid that ring onto a very specific finger…
She sat in silence as she watched him drive home listening to the music she had long associated with him…
And she moved not even a muscle as she watched him eventually pull into a driveway, into a garage, only to step out and walk into his house.
And into the arms of a woman wearing a matching ring…
A breath left Ninlil lungs as she still continued to stare at the seeing sphere.
He had gotten married, he had moved on…
Of course he had, she reminded herself. It’s been over five years…
She watched as the couple chatted and laughed, sitting down to eat dinner before cleaning up together and dancing in the living room…
It was a picture of a perfect romance… homely, domestic and innocent…
It was everything Ninlil has never had… and everything she had wanted…
Everything she secretly wished to still eventually have one day.
When they settled in the couch to watch some movie, Ninlil found herself reaching to touch the sphere, murmuring to herself. Her eyes still fixed in the screen as tears continued to roll down her cheeks.
“He got married… he’s safe, he’s happy, he moved on… I…” She smiled, letting out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t die for nothing….”
She watched them for a few more minutes, fixated on their smiles and laughter… zoned in on their true happiness.
But when they decided to share a kiss and retreat to their bedroom, God shut down the sphere.
“Are you satisfied with what you saw my Birdy?”
Ninlil nodded, her eyes still on where the sphere was.
“I am…” Her voice broke, but not with anguish. With relief.
God nodded and carefully picked Ninlil up. The winged woman letting him. Abruptly becoming aware that the sun had set while she was focused on the visions within the sphere.
God took her inside and sat her on the crafting table before taking his own seat and grabbing a chunk of clay.
“True to my promise, I will make sure that mortal remains safe.”
He said as he shaped the clay in his hands into a great golden eagle. Molding the clay with the knowledge and skill of a master. The eagle as detailed as the actually thing before he gave it a spark and breathed life into it, making it become the actual thing and sending it to earth.
“He shall never know another day of hardship, not so long as he remains pure intentioned.”
“Thank you sir.” Ninlil responded, bowing her head in obedience. “You don’t realize how much I appreciate your generosity.”
He waved off her words with a huff. But was happy she was no longer crying as she had been before. Those sounds weren’t pleasant to him.
He kept his Birdy by his side, where they talked and learned from each other well into the night before he eventually retired into his room, and Ninlil was close behind to do the same.
As she laid in her bed, she stared at the ceiling and thought about what she had seen today.
Adam was safe, happy, and moved on… her chest hurt a bit at the thought, but more overwhelmingly, she was genuinely happy her beloved still wasn’t mourning a dead woman.
5 years… 5 years was long enough to mourn. He deserved this happiness.
Her mind filled with a sense of peace as she gave her blessing.
“May your cup always be full, your heart happy, your mind peaceful, and your wallet forever filled with prosperity, I loved you Adam…” she whispered as she stared at the ceiling in the privacy of her room. “But you’re no longer mine…My heart releases you. I wish you all the best of love and luck my former beloved”
She sighed and closed her eyes as other faces filled her mind…
How she missed them… how she wanted to be back in their arms…
In her mind, in her room, in the depth of the night. Ninlil began to formulate a plan. The last semblance of her whole, un-splintered mind grasping onto this hope. Given a purpose once more, she rattled against the chains of complacency, the Watchdog opening her eyes again.
She had to get back to them…
The only thing left to figure out was How?
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Authors note; THIS TOOK ME TWO DAYS! But it’s not proofread, please forgive any spelling errors! I hope you enjoyed!
Tagging list:
@hunters-trashblog @sinner-master-adam @chaoticmoron @rayhandle @first--woman @theholyone-hh @green-static @stampy-offical @lolmerfolk @god-the-lord
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel oc#ninlil#hazbin oc#hazbin#Hazbin hotel OC Ninlil#Hazbin Hotel God#lore#cannon
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Inglorious Basterds master study
original pic
#i finally did it#these pretty people deserve a BIG work#I spent too much time on this it needs a step by step progress#inglourious basterds#ib fanart#dieter hellstrom#hans landa#hugo stiglitz#aldo raine#donny donowitz#archie hicox#bridget von hammersmark#shosanna dreyfus#fredrick Zoller#movie fanart
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Feral! Miguel O'Hara x Top! Male Reader
Summary: Miguel returns to his personal break room after a fight to heal, but forgets to replenish his spider DNA serum, turning him feral. since you’re a spiderman similar to him, he needs to be fucked to be stabilized.
words: 3k
warnings: breeding, wrestling, anal sex, biting, smut
A tired Miguel emerged into his personal break room as a portal from an alternate reality closed behind him. He had spent the last few hours fighting and capturing another anomaly in the wrong multiverse. Body aching from being thrown into buildings, throat parched from yelling orders along with being mentally drained from an old lady that repeatedly hit him as he tried to direct her to safety. Slumping tiredly onto his couch, groaning as he continued to sink into the comfort. He remained still, quietly waiting for his supernatural abilities to kick in and do the healing for him then realized that it was progressing much slower than usual. Soon everything began to heat up around him, pupils dilating and contracting and the suit felt more tightening.
He attempted to stand on his feet before a wave of intense pain and pleasure washed over him causing him to fall, landing on the hard floor. Claws protruding unwillingly from his fingers, muscles tense as his breathing picked up from the sudden wave of heat, fangs feeling much heavier in his mouth. Miguel felt helpless laying on the ground, gasping as it continued to ripple throughout his body after realizing too late that he forgot to intake the serum after returning.
“F-fucking shit, this c-can’t be hap-happening! Not now!” Miguel spat out through gritted teeth as he attempted to resist the sensation sweeping over him, dick growing increasingly aroused. Moaning as he began dryly humping the ground for any form of friction to ease his growing needs. He didn’t even hear any approaching footsteps until an all-too-familiar voice spoke through a door, cursing under his breath. That was the last word he said before fully succumbing to his desires, a low growl rumbling in his throat.
“What couldn’t be happening?” You asked through the door. You were with Miguel earlier, along with the other spider people, captured an anomaly stuck in the wrong dimension. The man in question had asked to see you after imprisoning the anomaly in a trap box to report on the current status of the last reality. When you came up to his office which was seemingly empty, you scanned around the room until your senses began tingling; warning that a strange presence radiated from a rather hidden door in the back. Tracking it down, you honed your hearing to any noises present coming from the door. Only to then discern it was Miguel, making questionable noises that were having an odd affect on you. A flicker of a small flame, lit within you.
“Miguel? Are you alright? I’m getting strange vibes in there. Talk to me.”
You could hear incomprehensible speech and hissing as a loud thunk crashed onto the ground, followed by a low moan. Your face slowly heats up at the possible thoughts of what may be occurring, but this wasn’t the time for your silent desires held for the man to emerge.
Hand on the knob you twisted it before speaking out, “I’m going to open the door if you don’t stop me right now!” You could hear scattering as the door opened, revealing what appears to be a softly dimmed room. Carefully stepping in, you looked around and noticed claw marks on the floor and walls, along with a table flipped over. After completing a full circle around the room, you placed your hands on your hips confused when your senses could not pick up a presence.
"What is this, hide and seek? Thought you said it was childish when I did it to you-" You were cut off as you were tackled to the ground, a strong grip on your shoulders pinning you down. Pain surged as the claws teared into your skin. Peering up at your attacker was Miguel, who looked more feral than usual as he towered over your face, angrily bearing his fangs. His head turned to the side of your neck, grazing over your veins before sinking his fangs - lapping at the blood spilling. You let out a groan, feeling your dick stirring at the action. The flame within you grew brighter, enough to light up a small campfire.
“Hey now, if you wanted to initiate something with me. This wasn’t really what I had in mind, yanno?” You quipped, attempting to push him off with your legs. Though it seemingly felt useless as he’s much stronger than you in terms of strength. Detecting resistance, he growled pushing you deeper into the ground until his body shuddered and let out a soft whine, losing power over you. Taking the opportunity, you quickly switched your positions around before exerting force to his wrists above his head, locking his legs around yours at the same time.
“It’s over Miguel, I have the high ground. So let’s start talking, yeah?” You said, taking the time to fully analyze his current state as he thrashed around, attempting to break free.
His hair was disheveled from its usual swept back appearance, brown eyes tinted with red, and lips lightly stained with blood from what would be assumed of yours. What mainly held your attention was the hard dick pressed up against your own, albeit not as hard… yet. More logs, added to the flame. Paying even more attention, Miguel had long since begun rutting on you, releasing soft whines that progressively got louder. Face flushed, his cries got louder until moved your hand down to his hips, forcing them to still.
Upset by your actions, he began squirming once again in your grasp trying to gain any friction on his straining dick. Entertained by this you let out a chuckle at his actions, “I didn’t take you for a bitch in heat Miguel. I don’t mind fucking you senseless if that’s what you want.”
For the first time, your words seemed to have been processed in his mind. Perhaps at the words “bitch” and “fucking you senseless” was all he took away. And from what you could interpret, Miguel seemed to be more compliant as he waited, staring into your eyes for your next move.
You trailed your hand from his hip across his torso, feeling the toned firm abs on your palm. Closing your eyes, you heightened your sense of what his soft skin must feel like underneath. It wasn’t your first time running your hands along his abs, as you had decided to join his customary workout session. More like you invited yourself claiming that steel-ton trucks weren’t going to be handled by just anyone. He begrudgingly sighed refusing to argue although he didn’t put up much of a fight and the next morning you stood in front of the gym, duffel bag slung across your shoulders with Miguel at your side.
The gym had been far greater than your own personal gym’s dimension, but what really made the place shine was watching a slightly sweaty Miguel performing curl ups beneath you as you held down his legs. He didn’t ask you to but rolled his eyes while hearing you proclaim that proper positioning of the feet were important to ensure a safe workout. His face was lightly scrunched as he focused on completing his sets, your eyes lingered on his chest that were more profound and round each time he came up and traveled to his torso, abs showing due to sweat clinging onto the shirt. You didn’t even realize Miguel had finished his sets and begun looking up at your face as he laid on the ground, chest heaving, trying to maintain his normal breathing.
The tension was palpable between you two, as it had been whenever you were both left alone in a room. Moving your hands from his legs, tracing at his abs but before you could slip your hands under his shirt to feel more, a stranger rudely interrupted your rather boner-inducing moment by asking to use the area if you both were done. Miguel let out an annoyed click before standing, clearing his stuff out and proceeded to the pull up bars. You stared daggers into the strangers back, gritting your teeth, before returning to completing the rest of your workout, huffing as you went along and closed your eyes embedding the view into your head; opening them at the sight of Miguel’s thrashing beneath you as your mind had carried you elsewhere away from him. Heat swarmed within your body, as much bigger logs fueled the flames.
You let out a chuckle and gripped at his suit before tearing the fabric apart on his thighs. Asking that he’d forgive you later, Miguel hissing at you before quivering, at the cold hands felt on his skin. Palming his dick on your hands, not willing to give him just what he wants so soon. Miguel let out a drawled moan as he pushed hips up, applying more pressure on his leaking dick, aching for more.
No longer able to resist your own throbbing prick, you removed your hand from his cock and went to release your own from its imprisonment, making the mistake as your grip on his wrists loosen. Miguel seized the opportunity and broke free, wrestling your own arms for control. Snarling as he pushed you back slightly which was short lived as your hand returned — after managing to pull your pants down — grabbing at his arms and flipping him around, laying flat on his stomach. You pressed the side of his head into the floor, hissing at his ear.
“Stay down like the bitch you are and take it.” you snapped shoving three of your fingers into his mouth, lining your cock at his cheeks, fucking those fat globes hidden underneath his tight suit. Tearing at the fabric, giving you more leverage to his ass. Miguel moans around your fingers, sucking and coating them in his spit as you increase the pace. “Gonna fill you up so good,” you huffed into his neck, marking the sensitive skin, “Won’t stop till you’re full of my seed, carrying my kids.” Miguel whimpered, cock twitching at the thought of being bred so thoroughly in order to carry your children inside of him.
You purred into his ear, loving the way he began losing himself more to the pleasure. “You like that? Breed you full of my kids inside your cunt, huh?” Miguel whines got louder, desperately moving his hips further against your own in response. You slipped your fingers out his mouth, rimming around his entrance before slipping inside. At first, you toyed with him, simply thrusting it in and swirling it around, but hearing his broken whimpers you curled the finger relishing at the sounds.
Miguel’s face altered between pain and pleasure as you slipped the second finger in. Stretching the ring in scissoring motions as he jerked weakly back into your fingers, cock straining against his torso, swollen tip leaking onto the floor desperately wishing for more.
You tutted at his actions, shoving his hips down on the ground — digging your nails into his side. “Last warning love, I’ll have to web you down on this floor. Is that what you want?” Miguel turned to his side, face flushed and glaring into your eyes, a low growl emitting from his throat that was cut off with a yelp as you inserted a third finger. You pump your fingers in and out of his entrance, watching as he slightly arched his back and let out small mewls of pleasure. You could feel him forcibly relaxing as you readied him for your cock.
After a few more of these ministrations, you removed your fingers from and spat at your hand, coating your erection, aligning at his puckering hole. The thought of thrusting in with the lack of decent preparation crossed your mind as it would be pleasurable, but the second Miguel was sane he’d tear you to half, refusing to allow you anywhere near him. For a while at least. Flames had turned into a roaring bonfire, slowly dissipating your desire to hold back.
Taking it slow, you eased your way in, groaning as the tight crevice swallowed you deeper. Miguel gasped at the intrusion, squirming away as you plunged deeper into his, settling fully inside him. Your senses melting at the seams as intense flames of pleasure surged throughout your body, letting out a keen growl into his ear. The unknown wave of heat continued to boil within you, huffing steams of hot air from your nostrils. Your eyes slightly tinted red peering back at his own.
“Fuck, you feel so good baby, so fucking tight for me” you growled into his ear, nuzzling your face into his neck. “So fucking tight for me, gonna make you my personal cum dump.”
Miguel whimpered, closing his eyes and buried his head into the floor while the pain of the stretch died and anticipation of getting fucked full arose. He wiggled his hips back, hoping to entice your animalistic urge that you’ve been holding back to give him adequate time to adjust. You cooed at his submission to you and rewarded him with continuous hard thrusts, shoving your cock as deep as you could, flames consuming your entire body.
Miguel’s eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out, letting out broken cries, clamping down around your cock. There was a mix of pain at the brutal thrusts as he didn’t have the best preparation, but that didn’t matter as he continued to beg, throwing his ass back to meet your pace. Garbling nonsensical strings of ‘words’ that were stuck in his throat, cries of pleasure coming up instead.
You keened as you put more pressure into the grip on his hip, releasing your hold on his wrists and rammed your cock in, molding his ass so it would remember only you and your shape. The thought reeling you deeper into the unconscious, leaving only your carnal desires to devour you whole along with dumping all your cum into the man below, belly round - full of your cum. Miguel clawed at the ground bracing himself as you continued your onslaught, drool pooling at the edge of his mouth. He could barely think straight, the only thing he can remember is sitting at his chair before a scalding heat washed over him and now he’s being fucked into oblivion until his desire to be thoroughly bred satiated.
Miguel pressed his hips back and rocked against yours, not wanting to waste any drop of cum that could fertilize his children carrying within him. Seeing Miguel so pliant to be fucked full of your cum drove you to the edge, biting his neck which left a dark mark. Though it wasn’t enough to break skin, it will warn others that the bitch was claimed and to stay away. Either way, the reaction that got out of the submissive man was a choked sob, body trembling before spurts of cum sprayed on his chest, dripping onto the floor. He collapsed underneath you, but still weakly tightened his hole around your cock, determined to milk it for all it’s worth.
Your thrusts became erratic as you neared closer and closer to eruption. Panting heavy into his ear you snarled, “Fu- fucking shit, here it comes baby. Don’t spill any of it bitch, got it?” Miguel whimpered, but obeyed as he mustered up all his remaining strength to clench his hole. Pushing your chest against his back, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you soon let out a groan, hips jerking before stilling altogether. Strings of curses leaving your mouth, swearing that for a small moment your soul ascended towards a warm comforting light.
Miguel was in a similar disheveled state as you, though slightly worse off. His face laying in a pool of his own drool, red eyes dimmed as his brown eyes returned, claws retracting into his fingers and ass quivering to hold in your cum, slowly reaching its end.
You rolled to the side, cock still lodged in Miguel and ran your hand along his side, stopping to caress his stomach, feeling a slight bump that was undoubtedly your cum. Which was almost concerning as you had never come this much before, much less been this aggressive during sex with anyone, but you shrugged it off assuming that it was just different with Miguel, curling your arms around him. Speaking of the man, he let out a groan as he shakily turned his body to face you. Eyes piercing into your soul, face contorted in slight anger. You chuckled and ran your hand in his hair, caressing the side of his face, whipping off the drool gently.
“Welcome back my charming beast. Did your dashing prince break the curse?” You smiled, watching as Miguel huffed and rolled his eyes at you.
“It wasn’t a curse, I just lacked the necessary genes of a spider and lost control a little. It’s a side effect of sorts.”
“A little?” You eyed, glancing at the room covered in claw marks that matched the scratches on your shoulders and arms.
Miguel turned to the side, mouth creased.
“I’m sorry, this was a first for me too… I’ve never attacked someone before,” he quietly muttered under his breath. Seeing this, you huddled him close into your arms and kissed the top of his temple.
“Hey now, it’s alright. Nothing I can’t handle anyway, you forgetting that I’m Spider-Man?“ You chided, pressing your forehead against his. A small smile gracing his face as you both quietly waited to regain your strength. Falling in a trance of listening to one another's breathing, body’s conjoined as one.
“Say, when you were working on that DNA thing, was there a little bit of wolf involved?”
“No there wasn’t, stop talking. You’re ruining the moment.”
“So it’s just a cute little kink of yours to be bred by me?”
“We are NOT having this conversation.”
“My dick is literally still in you.”
Miguel grumbled and made a weak effort of pushing away from you, but you laughed it off, pulling him closer.
a/n: hey y’all, it’s a little bit late but here it is, in all it’s smutty glory. i would also like to say that my eyes have been opened to a much softer side of Miguel as a soccer mom, but because of a bastard on my tiktok fyp, there is an angst ending in my mind that could be separated from the main, if one wishes to remain in la-la-land. i might write up a lil on that world to see how it'd work, not sure when it'd drop. but because of this smut, my brain kept making different branches of miguel getting fucked and it won’t stop plaguing my mind so those are in the works, one of them including jealousy towards lego spider-man… hope y'all enjoyed this.
that being said, leon’s fic is up next to be dropped though i might be a smidge late on that. apologies. if you are interested in that, you the reader purchase an experimental drug that heals wounds made by the merchant. you give it to a wounded leon who later on notices changes in his body, specifically his chest as stains show up on his shirt... around his nipples...
#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x male reader#spiderverse x reader#bottom miguel o'hara#across the spider verse#male y/n#male reader#miguel spiderman#x male reader#spiderman 2099#top male reader#miguel o'hara x top male reader#feral miguel o'hara#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman#miguel x you#miguel x reader#atsv smut#miguel o'hara smut#atsv fic
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Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 3)
Part one
Part two
There's SO MUCH excellent meta out there right now, and I'm going to try not to reinvent the wheel too much, but I want to keep going with tying the episodes/ elements up together because on first watch it wasn't entirely clear how everything fit. I also strongly recommend a rewatch, no matter what you felt about the ending... if you need to stop it 10 minutes early, do that, but you pick up so much more the second time around.
So: Maggie and Nina. I spent most of my first watch wondering why we were bothering with them, honestly. Later in the season Nina, and then Maggie and Nina, gave Crowley some insightful advice, but their actual relationship didn't progress despite all the meddling, and the amount of emotional investment BOTH Aziraphale and Crowley had in making them get together was frankly strange.
I started thinking in terms of mirror couples, since that was such a big deal in S1 and that's clearly what they were set up to be, but I made the mistake that all of us made on first watch: that Nina was Crowley and Maggie was Aziraphale. It still wasn't really coming together.
Then I put the psych hat back on and started to think about displacement. Displacement is a defense mechanism, and it consists of satisfying an impulse (usually an unconscious one) with a substitute object. At the beginning of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't really in a good place, and I think on some level they know that. Aziraphale is trying to SHOW Crowley that he wants to take the next step through all the casual touches and phone calls and inviting him in, and feeling frustrated because Crowley doesn't seem to be taking the bait. (I absolutely think that Aziraphale tried to get Crowley to stay with him at the bookshop instead of living in his CAR, and Crowley said no. That's a whole other meta.) Meanwhile, Crowley, I think, is waiting for a Grand Gesture. Where did he go, as soon as Aziraphale brought up trying to get two humans to fall in love? Romantic tropes. Getting caught in the rain under an awning. A dramatic kiss that opens someone's eyes. That's the sort of thing he's always done, right? Big rescues, impassioned pleas on the street, fancy dinners, "give you a lift anywhere you want to go". He's defensive and guarded and unlikely to let someone in unless he's CERTAIN he won't be rejected, and Aziraphale's approaches are just too... quiet. No one's fault, they just don't speak the same language.
Then, they're handed the opportunity to make two humans fall in love, and they're both All In immediately. Look at Crowley's face when he summons the rainstorm. This is HUGE for him. Why? Because of displacement. Look at Aziraphale arranging the ball and being borderline deranged about it. They're both desperate to demonstrate what they think it takes for two people to move past their misunderstandings and fall in love. They can't do it for each other because the stakes are too high, and if either of them shows their cards unequivocally the vulnerability feels life-shattering. They're codependent and terrified of rejection and also, importantly, have no idea what they're doing when it comes to love. "Saw it in a film", Crowley says. Aziraphale's read about it in books. But they have zero practical experience.
Instead of learning to communicate, they try to say what they want to say through the medium of Maggie and Nina, up to and including the questionable moral decision to exert control over people's actions and thoughts during the ball. If I can just make this come out right, they both think, then things between us will be alright too. It HAS to come out right. They're attempting to gain some control over their own lives, over something that feels so overwhelming and shattering they can't look directly at it.
It doesn't come out right. Nina's relationship falls apart, but that doesn't mean she's in love with Maggie. While Crowley's stress-cleaning the bookshop to the music that played when Aziraphale got his books back in 1941 (just fuck me up David Arnold), they come in and tell him so. "I don't understand", says Crowley. Because it should have worked. Why didn't it work?
They tell him, of course. "You need to talk to each other. Say what you're really thinking." But here's the thing about communication: you have to learn it. You need to get the hang of expressing your feelings without blaming your partner, and separating intent from impact, and staying away from getting defensive and lashing out. No one has ever taught Aziraphale and Crowley how to do this. It's like Maggie and Nina put Crowley in front of a loom and asked him to recreate the Bayeux Tapestry. He doesn't have the skills; he's always going to get it wrong, even if he tries his hardest.
And he does try. But that's where Maggie and Nina the mirror couple, rather than Maggie and Nina the displacement relationship or Maggie and Nina the Greek chorus, come in. Aziraphale, as Nina, has just ended an incredibly toxic, invasive relationship with Heaven. A relationship that invaded every facet of his life, isolated him, and prevented him from being close to anyone else. "Rebound mess," Nina says. Aziraphale is a rebound mess. He's transferred the responsibility for his emotional wellness to Crowley. Crowley is the person he calls when he's in trouble, or (and this is key) when he wants to report a clever/ good thing he's done, or when he's bored. (At no point did Crowley reference Aziraphale calling him for a solicitous reason-- another problem.) Crowley is meant to take care of him. He forgets, I think, that Crowley is a person with his own wants and needs, just like Maggie and Nina are people with their own wants and needs who don't appreciate being messed with. (I think things would have been much different had Aziraphale BEEN THERE for Maggie and Nina's talk with Crowley, but he wasn't.)
And Maggie-as-Crowley? Lonely. Behind on rent, at risk of being evicted (it's important to note that Aziraphale saves Maggie from losing her record shop, as he couldn't save Crowley from losing his flat). Pining. Awkward. Revolving around Nina like a planet, to the extent that we don't get much of an impression of her otherwise. They realize, there at the end, that they both need to round themselves out before jumping into a relationship. Aziraphale and Crowley need that too. They need to take time apart and learn to be healthy on their own. Unfortunately they don't have the skills to get to that conclusion in a healthy way, so it all explodes in their faces and everything falls apart.
Aziraphale tries to teach Nina and Maggie to dance as a substitute for communication. Nina and Maggie try to teach Crowley communication as a substitute for the dance they've been doing around each other. That's the reason they're a part of the plot: they exist to demonstrate the way Aziraphale and Crowley might have succeeded in forging a better dynamic. Sadly, the boys' dance is too practiced and they got sucked right back into it.
It's okay, I think, that Nina and Maggie's storyline never really went anywhere. It wasn't supposed to. It's an allegory, not something that needs to stand alone.
#good omens#good omens meta#good omens analysis#good omens season 2#gos2#good omens season two#crowley#aziraphale#maggie#nina#defense mechanisms#the psychology of good omens#everything is meant#ineffable husbands
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to do the right thing l part ii
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
series masterlist
summary: Joel has a hard time dealing with things as the pregnancy progresses; you and Joel ask Bill and Frank for the favor of a lifetime.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA. ((TW)) PREGNANCY, mentions and references to adoption, angst, asshole Joel, mentions of Sarah, softer Joel towards the end.
word count: 7.9k
a/n: i actually spent more time writing this second part, so hopefully it is a bit more well written than the first one that i wrote in an hour in the middle of the night. T_T
February, 2020
“Well, can I just say that we are just so incredibly thrilled that you two could finally come and join us for dinner this evening,” Frank beamed, grinning from ear to ear as he burst into the dining room with a bottle of his favorite red wine in one hand and a bottle opener in the other.
Bill snorted, stabbing his fork just a little too aggressively into his cut of chicken breast.
“Speak for yourself,” he grouched under his breath before taking a bite. Although he’d quit bringing his gun to the table, both you and Joel knew he had the pistol tucked somewhere nearby. You were willing to bet it was tucked into the waistband of his khaki trousers, but Joel would probably argue that it was in a less obvious place, like strapped to his ankle.
It really seemed as though Bill would never allow himself to get used to you, Tess, and he especially wouldn’t allow himself to get used to Joel. He knew it was the smart, logical choice, keeping you three around for the sake of trading supplies and resources when needed, but overall, it wasn't all that necessary. He and Frank had been doing just fine for years before you all had come into their lives after Frank had met Tess over the radio one afternoon. Or at least, that’s what he liked to believe despite the fact that during your very first lunch together, Joel had easily pointed out several flaws around the perimeter of their neighborhood—weak spots that could be vulnerable to raiders if they ever came along. You and Tess joked that Bill put Joel at the top of his shit list the moment he pointed out that their fence only had about a year left to hold strong. He’d been on it ever since.
Having you all around at this point was more for Frank’s benefit than anything. Bill would do just about anything to make Frank happy, and much to his chagrin, you, Tess, and even Joel, made him happy—having friends made him happy. Bill could do without socializing for the rest of his natural born life, but Frank, on the other hand, would lose his sanity.
“Oh, don’t mind him. He’s just been in a bad mood because we had a massive roof leak the other day after that huge thunderstorm," Frank explained, rolling his eyes. Being the attentive, gracious host that he always was, he quickly made his way around the dinner table, pouring everyone a generous glass of wine to enjoy with their meal. “He spent hours up on that roof trying to patch it up and then damn near broke his ankle coming down when he missed the last two steps on the ladder. Can you believe that?”
“Thought I noticed a limp,” Joel remarked with an amused smirk.
Frank nudged Joel in the shoulder as he poured his wine. “I had told him to wait for you, Joel, what with you having been in construction before and all. But Mister ‘I don’t need anyone’s help’ decided to do it himself even though he has never patched a roof before in his life.”
“Tell you what, next time we’re over for lunch, I’ll go up there and check it out. Make sure he did it right ‘cause I highly doubt he did.”
Bill glowered at him.
You roughly smacked the side of his thigh underneath the table.
Joel, please, You thought silently. We need to stay on his good side.
Frank chuckled as he fell into step beside your chair. “That would be very helpful if you did, actually. It would definitely give me a bit more peace of mind, especially since the rainiest season of the year is approaching fast.” He offered Bill an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but we really should let an expert take a look at it, just to be on the safe side. Joel knows his stuff, after all.”
As he reached for your glass, you quickly placed your hand over the top of it and lightly shook your head. “Oh, none for me tonight, thank you,” You declined politely. The wine was normally your favorite part of any meal they hosted, seeing as Bill and Frank, who were both quite the wine enthusiasts, knew how to make the most heavenly of pairings. It really was a fucking shame that it would be at least a few more months before you could drink again. Lord only knew you could use the alcohol after all of the bullshit that had been going on lately with Joel. “May I have a glass of water instead, please?”
“What? You don’t want any wine?” Frank frowned and reached out with his free hand, pressing the back of it against your forehead. “Are you feeling sick or something? Should we be worried? Bill, where’s the reader—?”
You chuckled at his usual dramatic little antics. “No, I’m fine,” You assured him. “I’d just rather stick to water tonight if that’s okay.”
“That’s really fucking weird of you, but alright,” he sang over his shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a minute later with a tall glass of clean, filtered water in his hand and set it down on the table in front of you before taking his seat next to Bill. He picked up his red cloth napkin and draped it gingerly over his lap. “So, tell us again why Tess couldn’t make it tonight?”
“She, uh, she had a few things she needed to take care of back in the QZ,” Joel explained to him briefly before popping a piece of roasted rosemary potato into his mouth. The truth was that Tess had opted to stay behind and sit this one out, stating that the conversation that would eventually take place tonight would be between the four of you. She didn’t need to be there, nor be a part of it.
“Well that’s such a shame. I really miss her,” Frank lamented between bites of his garden salad. “It’s been a while since we’ve all gotten together for a meal. Hell, this is the first time we’ve seen you in what, a couple of months at least, right Bill?”
“Felt like a lot less than that. But sure, let’s call it a couple of months.” Bill eyed Joel suspiciously. “Sounded a bit urgent when you radioed in and let us know you had to come see us tonight, Joel. More so than usual. I’m guessing that you two must really need something from us.”
You and Joel exchanged a silent glance.
“Jesus Bill, can you please not be so rude to them for once?” Frank scolded, waving a hand dismissively at his partner. He smiled apologetically at you and Joel. “Again, please don’t mind him. It seems to me that we still have some work left to do with his manners.” He paused just long enough to take a delicate sip of his wine. He set his glass down, then picked up his fork and knife. “But, if you do happen to need anything, you know that we are more than happy to help you out as best as we can if we have the supplies and resources to spare.”
“Which we don’t,” Bill chimed in, earning himself a light smack to the shoulder.
Joel ignored him and instead focused his attention on Frank. He was the one to win over out of the two. “That’s awfully kind of you, Frank. You know that we always appreciate your warm hospitality,” he remarked, and although he was laying it on a little thick for the sake of getting into his good graces, there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. He actually happened to like Frank—it was hard for anyone not to like him. Joel lifted his glass of wine to him in a toast. “Of all the people we could’ve come across on the radio that day, we’re grateful that it was you.”
Frank touched a hand lightly to his chest. He then picked up his own glass, clinking the rim against Joel’s. “Well, cheers to that.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Bill grumbled, shaking his head.
Joel nudged your leg under the table as if to let you know it was time.
On the way up to Lincoln, he had suggested Bill and Frank would be a lot more inclined to agree to yours and his pending request if it came from you. Joel could butter Frank up well enough, but Bill hated his fucking guts, and you probably had a better chance of winning the survivalist over than Joel did.
You cleared your throat lightly, garnering everyone’s attention. “I have some news to share. Well, actually, we have some news to share.”
Bill raised a thick, bushy eyebrow. “What kind of news?”
“News? Is everything okay?” Frank asked, suddenly worried. “Wait. Is it Tess? Is she alright? Did something happen?”
“No, it isn’t anything like that at all. Tess is perfectly fine,” You quickly reassured him, causing him to sink back against his chair in relief. You held your breath for a moment before exhaling it softly through your mouth and announcing, “I’m, um—I’m pregnant.”
Bill nearly choked on his chicken and Frank gasped, both hands flying to his mouth in complete shock. The seconds passed in silence, and the room had gone so quiet that one could have heard a fucking pin drop on the floor. You felt the heat flood to your face and nervously shoved a forkful of baked chicken into your mouth, deciding it would be best to just give them a bit of time to process the news before moving onto phase two. However, Joel wasn’t there to waste any time and decided to step in.
“Listen, I know that this is probably a lot to take in, but we didn’t exactly come over here to share that with you just for shits and giggles. As much as it pains me to say it, Bill is right,” he admitted reluctantly. That was one phrase Joel Miller could do without saying ever again. “Truth is, we do need somethin’ from you two. We’ve got a favor to ask you both, a big one at that.”
That had been enough to slap Bill back into reality.
“Oh no, stop right there! I can see where this is going from a fucking mile away!” He jumped up from his chair, furiously shaking his head as he wagged his index finger at you and Joel. “Listen here, we have been as generous as we can possibly be with the two of you, and with Tess—but there’s got to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it! There is no fucking way in hell that we’re taking you into our home, into our neighborhood! This place belongs to us, we built it, we secured it! We worked our goddamn asses off for all that we have and just because she’s pregnant does not mean we will allow you to—”
“That’s not it.” Though your voice was smaller, softer, it managed to get through to Bill over his angry ranting. “That’s not it at all, Bill. We’re not trying to move here or invade your space like that, I swear it.”
His hand dropped down to his side. “Really?”
“No. Of course not. We know you have boundaries, and so does Frank. And whether you choose to believe it or not, we do our best to respect them as much as we possibly can.”
“Oh.” Bill slowly sank back down to his chair, looking relieved. “Then what is it that you two want? You need baby clothes or baby blankets from the boutique or something?”
“Not exactly,” You mumbled. You took a quick minute to think it over in your head, wondering if there was any correct or tactful way to ask what you were about to ask of them—there wasn’t. It didn’t matter if you spun it a million different ways, Bill was still going to blow a fuse again no matter what. “We wanted to ask you and Frank if you would be willing to take the baby into your care once it’s born.”
And just like that, Bill’s temporary relief vanished. “I beg your fucking pardon?”
You turned to Joel, saying tightly through your teeth, “A little fucking help here, please?”
“Look. Boston ain’t no fuckin’ place for a child,” Joel started, lifting his hand in an attempt to keep Bill calm this time. “Too much shit’s been goin’ on there lately. Violence has escalated, supplies are gettin’ harder to get and costin’ us more than ever before. So we want to know if you and Frank are willing to take the baby after it’s born. It would be better off here with you two than with us in the QZ.”
Bill didn’t need to think twice about it. He answered Joel with a stern, “Absolutely not.”
Joel let out an irritated sigh and dropped his fork. The utensil clanked loudly against the white porcelain plate. He dropped his face into his hands, rubbing it harshly. “Fuckin’ knew he wasn’t gonna make this easy for us.”
You chewed anxiously on your bottom lip, an overwhelming feeling suddenly washing over your entire body from head to toe. It was strange to feel this way, considering the fact Bill and Frank’s place had always been something of a temporary escape for you. Their neighborhood, their home, it usually brought you a sense of peace and tranquility—you felt comfortable whenever you were here. But between Bill’s angry outburst, his instant decline to your request, and Frank’s wide, shocked eyes still fixed intently on you, you suddenly found yourself wishing you were anywhere but in Lincoln.
“You’re pregnant?” Frank’s incredulous voice broke the silence that had fallen over the dinner table. Part of you wondered how much of the conversation he had even heard or if it had just gone in through one ear and out the other. “You’re really pregnant?”
“Frank,” Bill said his name warningly. “Don’t even think about it.”
Frank ignored him, his attention still on you. “How far along are you?”
You glanced at Joel before turning back to him. “It’s just an estimate, but we’re thinking at this point that I might be about four and a half months, maybe almost five?” You replied with a small shrug of your shoulders. “We aren’t too sure, though.”
“And it’s yours?” Bill questioned, eyeing Joel in disbelief.
Joel glared at him, his aggravated silence speaking for him.
“Oh, Bill.” Frank suddenly turned to him with a hopeful expression. “A baby!”
There had been a couple of different occasions where, while sitting outside on the front lawn enjoying a glass of iced tea in the sunshine, Frank had confessed to both you and Tess of his desire to have a family one day. He acknowledged the chances of that ever happening were virtually impossible, but he admitted that it was something he had been dreaming of since meeting Bill. He wanted to be a father. He wanted a child, and here you were, with one that you couldn’t keep.
“Frank. No.” Bill stared at him, unable to fathom how he could even think that taking in a child could possibly be a good idea. “I’m sorry. You know I try to give you everything that you ask for, but I have to put my foot down this time. I have enough trouble keeping you safe as it is! We’ve had raiders come and try knocking at our door before—”
“And you’ve fought them off,” Joel reminded him. “Successfully.”
“Not to mention, think of all the things we would have to do in order to raise a kid, all the supplies and resources we would use up in just the first year alone—”
“Bill, we know this is a lot to ask of you, of both of you,” You somehow managed to chime in. “We know that a favor like this is one we would never be able to repay you for, not in this lifetime. But it’s this child’s only shot. What kind of life would it have where we live? What kind of future would it have in the QZ?”
“Hm. Sounds like not our fucking problem,” Bill quipped. “Sorry.”
Frank’s eyes left his partner’s and met yours across the table before they fell down to your midsection. “You said you’re about four and a half months?”
You gave him a small nod.
Bill might not have been on board, but you still had Frank.
He was your only hope.
“Yes, but again, it’s an guess. We don’t want anyone else in the QZ knowing that I’m pregnant, so I haven’t been to see a doctor. But we think it’s a pretty close guess.” Suddenly, an idea came to mind. You hesitated, at first, but knew it was your best shot at finishing the job and reeling Frank in. You slowly stood up from the table and with trembling fingers, you started to unbutton the flannel jacket you were wearing—Joel’s flannel jacket—and showed him the swollen belly you had been hiding underneath it. It was on the smaller side, but still quite prominent underneath a snug-fitting, cotton blue tank top.
“Oh!” Frank breathed out in surprise. He rose to his feet, rushing over and around to your side of the table. He excitedly lifted his hands, but then stopped himself, glancing at you for permission first. “Would it be alright if—?”
“Of course, go right ahead,” You encouraged with a tiny smile as you continued holding the jacket open for him.
Frank sank to his knees in front of you. He lightly cradled the small bump in between his palms, looking up at you with a look of absolute wonder on his face.
It felt bizarre, not only showing your midsection to someone else, but having another set of hands besides your own on it felt foreign as well.
As soon as you’d started showing, Joel had refused to go near you—the way he tried painfully to ignore it caused you to keep it hidden away underneath oversized clothes, even in the privacy of your own quarters.
During the first few weeks of your pregnancy, he’d been just fine. Well, as fine as he could be. But once your belly had popped, it was as if it had all suddenly sunk in and really clicked for Joel—this was one hundred percent fucking real now and that was his baby growing inside of you. Since that moment, he hadn’t quite been himself, at least not with you.
Joel still looked out for you, of course. He didn’t dote sweetly on you and shower you with affection, but he did take responsibility in the ways that mattered. He made sure that you were taking the prenatal vitamins Tess had found for you, he made sure that you were eating enough, and if he ever noticed that you were still hungry, he would shovel his own portion onto your plate without asking and head off to sleep on an empty stomach. He helped you out whenever you were assigned to the same work detail, taking on an extra load of work on top of his own if it meant sparing you from even the slightest risk of straining yourself or over exerting your body.
Sure, he still cared for you. He wouldn’t do any of that if he didn’t.
But that didn’t mean things between you hadn’t changed.
They had.
Drastically.
Joel kept his distance from you, physically. He hadn’t fucked you, kissed you, or so much as even touched you in the last couple of months. He’d even started sleeping on the couch, leaving you to sleep alone in your once shared bed. Whenever he spoke to you, he stood at least a few feet away, and his eyes always remained trained on your face—he took especially great care to not look at your growing stomach. You could briefly recall one morning when you’d squeezed past him in the kitchen to grab a mug from the sink while he’d been making his morning coffee; when your belly accidentally brushed against his hand, he had cringed, snatching it away from you as if he’d touched something unpleasant. Deep down, you knew this was his own twisted, fucked up way of coping with how he was feeling, but it still didn’t stop you from wishing that he’d quit acting as if you and the baby were the fucking plague.
As much as you tried to deny it, the way Joel had been treating you lately hurt you. It cut you deep, down to your very core. You put on a good front for him and Tess, though, acting as if none of it bothered you. But the tears that you shed on the nights they left you alone to go out on their runs were endless.
“Oh Bill,” Frank glanced pleadingly over his shoulder at his partner, his hands still on your stomach. “Please.”
“Frank—”
“Please.”
Bill couldn’t refuse Frank a majority of the time. But this was bigger than anything he’d ever asked of him and it was going to take more than his usual amount of convincing to get him to agree.
Bill scoffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “Let me guess. You want us to take this baby in and you want us to clothe it, feed it, and protect it. You want us to do the real work of raising it, using up our supplies and resources. And then what? You two come along to play mommy and daddy whenever you fucking feel like it?”
You shuffled from foot to foot, wincing slightly at his harshness. “No, of course not.”
Joel wasn’t all too fond of Bill’s tone towards you. He leaned forward, throwing him a warning glare across the table. “She’d like to visit,” he informed him, keeping his temper under control. He knew better than to go off on Bill, not when you were still trying to convince him to do you both the favor of a fucking lifetime. “Every now and again, just to see the kid. But we think it’s best if we do a closed adoption, if you wanna call it that. You and Frank are the parents, and we’re just a couple of friends who come by and visit daddy and daddy every now and again for lunch.”
“Right, and you really want me to believe that there’s no chance she’s going to be attached to this baby after carrying it for nine months?” Although Bill was facing and speaking directly to Joel, it was obvious he was indirectly grilling you. And here Joel thought the man might have had something of a soft spot for you. “Think about it, Joel. You don’t think one day she might waltz in here and decide she wants to take it back? Break Frank’s heart when he has to give up a child he’s going to undoubtedly fall in love with?”
Anger simmered underneath your skin, bubbling in your veins at the insinuation that you could ever do something to hurt Frank. “First of all, stop talking about me like I’m not in the fucking room, alright? I’m standing right here, so fucking look me in the face if you’re going to talk about me.” You seethed. Frank stood up and placed his hand on your shoulder in an effort to calm you, but it was too late. “This isn’t a fucking game, Bill. This isn’t a decision that we made on a whim or that we’re taking lightly. Me and Joel are just trying to do right by this child. If you and Frank agree to take it in as your own, it’s all yours. I’m not going to take it back,” You practically spat. “Once it’s done, it’s fucking done.”
“Alright, alright. I’m going to need you to just take a deep breath and relax before you bring on early labor in the middle of my dining room.” Frank gently guided you until you were sitting back in one of the chairs and handed you your untouched glass of water. He waited patiently as you took a few sips and then took the glass from your hand, setting it back down on the table. “Listen, before we decide anything, I just have to ask—is this really what you want to do? This is a decision that you made, right? No one is making you do this?” He noticed Joel raise his eyebrows at what he was suggesting, and before he could chime in, Frank quickly added, “I just need to hear it from her, Joel.”
“This is what’s best,” You answered honestly, feeling a dull ache in your heart that had become all too familiar. “I have spent so many long nights lying in bed just thinking this over. We don’t have any other choice, not if we want it to have a chance at a decent life. That is what I want, Frank. For it to have a chance at a decent life.”
“This child is gonna grow up and want to know who its parents are,” Bill pointed out. “Thought about that at all?”
“Use your imagination,” Joel remarked before taking a quick sip of wine. “Make somethin’ up. Lie. Tell it you found it in a basket floating down the fuckin’ river. Whatever it takes. We don’t ever want the kid to know it’s us.”
“Going to be kind of hard if it comes out looking like your clone.” Bill gestured to you with a nod of his head. “Or hers.”
“It’ll be a long, long time before this child is even old enough to notice things like who he or she looks like,” You released a little scoff, tired of him using any reason he could think of to stand against it. “Bill, please. Can’t you at least think about it for the next few weeks and at least consider it?”
“No.”
Your face fell.
Motherfucker really wasn’t going to budge.
“Well now, wait just a second.” Frank walked over to him and put his hands on his burly shoulders. “Bill, think about it. This is our chance.” He squeezed his shoulders. “To have a family. A real family.”
“Family? It’s not our fucking kid—it’s not a part of me or you.”
“But we’ll love it like it is! Blood isn’t what makes a family. Love is,” he reminded him softly.
You swallowed back the lump that had risen in your throat.
Bill might have been a stubborn jackass, but you knew that Frank would show him how to be a good father. He had already shown him how to be an amazing, loving partner.
“So?” Joel prompted. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back into his chair.
Bill scowled at him. He said nothing as he reached for his glass of wine, chugging every last drop in one long gulp before he stood up and stalked out of the dining room.
Frank had his answer.
And so did you and Joel.
As the next several weeks turned into months, pregnancy—and your ever ongoing attempts at hiding it from everyone in the Boston QZ—had really started to take its toll on you, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Joel had given you all but his entire wardrobe, helping to keep your condition hidden as well as possible, but it was taking a hell of a lot more than just his jackets and shirts to keep it a secret. When you entered your third trimester, you were starting to struggle immensely with work detail, finding it more and more difficult to keep up with what authorities expected of you. Everything ached—your feet, your back, and even the hairs on your fucking head were hurting, and yet you were forced to carry on with your daily duties as best you could to avoid raising any suspicions.
“Frank said it might be best if you gave birth at their place,” Joel commented over dinner one night. Tess was out doing a solo run, and it had just been the two of you for the last couple of days. Lately, you almost wished she would stop leaving you alone with Joel. Ever since that night at Bill and Frank’s, he had been acting a lot colder towards you, more than ever before. He could hardly look at you most days. Before, he could at least stand to look at your face. Now, there wasn’t a single part of you that his eyes could meet. “As soon as you start feelin’ off, we’re gonna need to get you over to them. Frank talked Bill into lettin’ you stay for a few days if it comes down to it and you need some time to heal.”
You simply nodded, your gaze fixed on the torn paper napkin in front of you. “Okay.”
He bit into his piece of jerky, his eyes also glued to the table. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see that you’d finished your portion already. He reached out, dropping his piece in front of you onto your napkin. “Need to eat more,” he grumbled. He picked up his glass of whiskey, polishing it off before pouring himself another.
You couldn’t stand it.
You couldn’t fucking take it anymore.
“Joel.” You said his name in a smaller voice than what you had been aiming for. “Can we talk?”
He racked his brain for the first bullshit excuse he could think of. “It can wait. S’real late and we need to get to bed soon. We got early work orders tomorrow.”
“No, Joel, actually, it can’t fucking wait.” Your heart was pounding at a rate that felt far too fast for your body and you tried to remind yourself to remain calm. You knew you needed to keep your emotions in check, or else your distress could cause distress to the baby. “We need to talk. Now.”
Joel drew an impatient breath. “Talk ‘bout what, exactly?”
“About how you’ve been acting over the last few months.” Your voice trembled and you almost kicked yourself for it. The last thing that you needed to do was fucking crumble. “And about the way you’ve been treating me, too. You’ve been keeping your distance from me, acting like I’m some kind of—I’ve seen you cringe a lot less when dumping the infected bodies into the fire pits, let’s just put it that way.”
“Those pregnancy hormones,” he released a short, bitter laugh. “Got you bein’ all dramatic.”
“I am not being dramatic.” Your hands curled into tiny fists. “You won’t talk to me. You won’t touch me. You won’t even fucking look at me anymore! I’m sick of it, Joel.”
“It’s nothin’,” he replied dismissively, shrugging his shoulders. He looked down into his whiskey, feigning a sudden interest in the rich amber hues in his glass.
“Nothing?” You repeated, flabbergasted. “Then why haven’t you slept in our bed with me? Hm? Oh that’s right, because you can’t fucking stand to be that close to me! You’d rather break your back on that old fucking couch rather than sleep next to me.”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his grip around his glass tightening. “Listen, I ain’t doin’ this right now, alright?”
“Joel.” You hesitated. If you crossed this line and pushed one too many of his buttons, there was no fucking going back. “I know that you’re afraid, okay?”
“I ain’t afraid,” he countered through gritted teeth. Finally, he brought himself to look up at you, his eyes meeting yours—that same emotion that he’d just denied was right there behind them as clear as the fucking stars in the sky outside. Joel wasn’t made of stone. He wasn’t any kind of special exception to having normal human feelings. He hid everything pretty well, and because you cared about him, you were willing to put up with his asshole façade because he needed you as much as you needed him. Still, even after years of trying to take the wall he’d built down brick by brick with your bare hands, you hadn’t gotten very far and you wished the man would help you out every now and again and throw you a fucking hammer. “Ain’t no reason for me to be afraid. I ain’t the one who’s fuckin’ pregnant.”
“It’s yours too! This is your baby too, Joel. Your child. It is part of you, just as much as it is a part of me. And ever since day fucking one, you have been scared shitless of it,” You confronted him, another trembling edge coming to your voice. “And I know why, okay? I know that what happened to Sarah—”
Joel froze, going rigid in his seat. His free hand had curled into a fist, his tight knuckles turning ghost white.
It was something of an unspoken rule.
Nobody talked about Sarah.
Hell, the only reason you even knew about his daughter was because you’d accidentally stumbled upon an old polaroid of her while washing his jeans in the kitchen sink one morning. You had found it in one of the back pockets while cleaning them out, the photograph heavily creased as if he spent ample amounts of time folding it open and then folding it closed again. Sarah’s name had been scribbled on the back of the polaroid. Her smile, her nose, it was all Joel, and it had taken you less than sixty seconds to realize the young teenaged girl posing goofily in the picture had been his daughter.
When you’d handed the picture to him while his jeans dried, it was like a silent bomb had detonated. Although it’d been a mere accident on your part, Joel had been so incredibly angry with you, as if you had gone snooping through his past life on purpose. For weeks, he hadn’t said a single word to you unless it had something to do with work or a run.
He’d lost her. He hadn’t told you that, but you’d guessed it.
Whether it was to infection or something else, you didn’t know. And you knew better than to ask him. All you knew was that losing her had done something irreparable to Joel Miller. Whoever he’d been before losing his daughter was dead too.
“Don’t,” he warned, his voice strained. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Joel, please,” You whispered. “Whatever happened to her, you can’t possibly keep it to yourself for the rest of your life. You can talk to me about Sarah—”
Joel slammed his curled fist down onto the table, startling you. He then turned in his chair and flung his glass at the wall behind him, the sound of it shattering into hundreds of pieces echoing throughout the small apartment. Jumping to his feet, he pointed a threatening finger in your face. “Don’t you ever utter her fuckin’ name ever again! You understand me?”
“But Joel—”
“Do you fuckin’ understand me?”
“I understand.” You hardly recognized the squeak that left your lips.
“Go to bed. Now,” he ordered, whirling around on his heel. “It’s fuckin’ late.”
Without another word, Joel stalked over towards the couch and dropped onto it, rolling over onto his side so his back was to you.
You pulled the neckline of his shirt that you wore over your mouth and pressed your palm against it in an effort to muffle a sob.
A few hours later into the middle of the night, Joel had awakened and stood up from the couch only to find you sitting there in the exact same spot where he’d left you at the table. Though it was dark in the apartment, the moonlight that shone through the torn curtains over the window illuminated your face and he could see you hadn’t stopped crying since he’d fallen asleep.
“Y’need to go lay down,” he told you quietly.
You knew this tactic all too well.
His way of apologizing for losing his shit on you without actually apologizing.
“I’m fucking fine right where I am,” You snapped stubbornly in response, quickly dabbing at your damp eyes with the back of your hand. That was a downright lie. Your lower back was on fire from having sat in the chair for so long.
Joel sighed, hanging his head. He knew he’d fucked up. He’d been fucking up for the last several months. He pulled a chair around in front of yours and sat down, his knee touching yours lightly. That alone was enough to send a chill throughout your body. “Sittin’ in that chair for too long ain’t good for your back,” he stated. He waited to see if you would speak and when you didn’t reply a couple minutes later, he sighed again. “Look, I’m real sorry about earlier, alright? Hell, I’m sorry for everythin’. You were right, I’ve been treatin’ you like shit and you definitely don’t deserve it.”
Stunned, you looked up at him.
“I was angry, but I shouldn’t have lashed out on you the way that I did. Much less while you’re in this condition.” He paused, reaching up to rub his face tiredly with one of his hands. He then let it fall back down to his thigh with a loud slapping sound. “It’s a sore spot for me, alright? Always has been and always will be. Nothin’ or no one is goin’ to change that, not ever. Not even you,” he admitted, shoulders sagging as if the realization had just come to him. “You know you mean somethin’ special to me. You know I care about you, and you know you’re what has kept me goin’ these last few years. I’d do just about anythin’ for you. But I need you to respect that I don’t wanna talk about her and I don’t want you bringin’ her up. She is from my past and that is where I need to leave her.”
“But why?” You frowned, wiping a stray tear that had fallen away from your cheek. “That’s not fair to you or to her. She doesn’t deserve to be forgotten about.”
“That what you think it is? That I’m tryin’ to forget about her? Impossible. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think of her.”
You placed your hands down onto your lap and started wringing them together anxiously. “It’s not that I think you’re trying to forget about her, Joel. But you refusing to talk about her, it’s erasing her memory, whether you think of it that way or not.” Noticing him wince at your words, you wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him—stroke his cheek, hold his hand. But you were finally getting somewhere and you knew better than to move too fast, so you willed yourself to keep your hands to yourself. “And besides that, you aren’t doing yourself any favors by keeping her story a secret. You’ve been carrying the weight of whatever happened to her on your shoulders for what, almost two decades now?”
“It’s my burden to carry, alright?”
“You shouldn’t have to carry it alone.” Your expression softened. It dawned on you. You’d thought you knew how much pain Joel had been in for all these years, but the honest truth was that you didn’t have the slightest clue. You didn’t know how bad he was actually hurting—and that killed you inside. “You need to talk about it, Joel. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But someday.”
“No. I can’t—”
“Don’t you trust me?”
Joel almost seemed offended that you’d even ask such a thing. “Of course I fuckin’ trust you.”
“Then why won’t you let me in, Joel?” A fresh batch of tears brimmed your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously before they could fall. “After everything that we’ve been through together. I’m carrying your fucking child for god’s sake.”
He didn’t answer. Tearing his gaze away from you, he looked straight ahead at the wall in front of him.
“Joel.”
Silence.
“Joel. Come on. Can you just fucking look at me, please?”
Nothing.
You let out a long, sad sigh of defeat. So much for getting somewhere. “Alright. Fine.” You placed a hand on your stomach and stood up from your chair. “I’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.”
As you padded over towards your mattress, Joel’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks. “Sarah was my daughter.”
Slowly, you turned around, your lips parted slightly.
“Pretty sure you knew that already though,” he chuckled in spite of himself. “She was fourteen years old. Her mom walked out on us when she was just a baby. I spent her entire life raising her by myself. Tommy, well, he was around too, but he was more of a bad influence than anythin’ and sometimes it felt like I was lookin’ after two kids instead of one.”
You walked back over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Joel reached up and took your hips in his hands, carefully pulling you down to sit on his lap.
“No Joel, I’m way too heavy.” Embarrassed, you quickly tried standing up.
“You think you’re heavy?” He snorted lightly, holding you firmly in place. “If anythin’, you could stand to have a bit more meat on your bones bein’ almost nine months pregnant and all.”
“Blame my nutritious, nourishing diet of jerky and stale crackers.” The sarcasm dripped from your tone.
He let out something in between a snort and a laugh.
You couldn’t help but smile a little and draped an arm around his shoulders.
How you’d missed this. Missed him.
You leaned into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. For the next several minutes, Joel just held you.
Just when you were beginning to wonder how long the silence would last, he broke it.
“I’m not ready to talk ‘bout what happened to her,” he explained, quietly. “Might not be ready for a long, long time. Not sure if I’ll ever be ready, if you want the honest truth. Sarah, she was my sweet little butterfly. The absolute love of my fuckin’ life. Losin’ her was the worst fuckin’ thing that has ever happened to me. It’s a wound that’s still raw as hell, even after all these years. Might even be one of those wounds that just never heals, you know?”
You lifted your head from his shoulder, your hand going to his hair. You ran your fingers through it, amazed how even after going days without a wash, it always stayed so soft. “I know you don’t want me to say that I’m sorry—”
“I really fuckin’ don’t,” Joel confirmed with a shake of his head. “Won’t change shit. Won’t bring her back. Sure as hell won’t make me feel any better.”
“Then I won’t say it.” You brought your hand back down to your lap and leaned forward. You pressed your lips against his forehead, letting them linger. He stiffened, and you could feel him restraining himself from completely melting into your touch. You knew things would take a little time and you were willing to be as patient as you needed to be for him.
“Losin’ another child—” Joel trailed off, voice hoarse. “I just—I can’t.”
“I know,” You soothed him. “Which is why we’re doing the right thing and letting Bill and Frank take him.”
“Him?”
You offered him a small, tired smile. It really was getting late now and the exhaustion was creeping in. “I haven’t had the chance to tell you. But I think it’s a boy.”
“And how the hell could you possibly fuckin’ know that?”
You shrugged. “Just a gut feeling. Tess thinks it’s a boy too. She says with the way I’m carrying, it must be—” You stopped, doubling over in pain. “Fuck. Ouch.”
Alarmed, Joel’s hand found the small of your back, the other was in front of you, making sure you didn’t fall over off of his lap. “What? What is it?”
“The baby just kicked me.” You grimaced, leaning back into a sitting position. “Right in damn the ribs too. And there goes another one.” You exhaled sharply, the discomfort radiating throughout your body. “Jesus. He must take after you with all the violence.”
Joel seemed a bit stunned. “This the first time it’s ever kicked?”
“No. He’s done it a few times before. But never this much in one sitting. Or this hard.” You winced. “He’s really fighting in there.”
Joel just stared at you, something that looked a bit like awe in his eyes.
Through the slight pain, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to feel him?”
“Oh I don’t think, uh, I don’t think I should—”
“It’s not going to fucking kill you, Joel.”
He hesitantly lifted his hand. “Where—where do I put it?”
“Here.” You took his hand in both of yours and placed it on the side of your round midsection. “Just give it a second. You’ll feel it right here.”
You watched his face carefully. He jumped slightly once he’d felt the fluttering motion against the palm of his hand, his dark eyes going wide.
Even before the outbreak, Joel never thought he’d feel something like that again in his life.
“He’s strong,” he murmured. “Real strong.”
“I know. Wonder where he got that from,” You joked lightly.
Moving his hand away, Joel placed it on your thighs and awkwardly cleared his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s pretty late. You really do need to get some sleep.”
“Okay. But on one condition.”
“What condition?”
“Will you come to bed with me?”
“‘Course.” He stood up, letting out a small, labored grunt as he lifted you up into his arms.
“I told you I’m heavy,” You reminded him with a laugh. “Joel, put me down. This cannot possibly be good for your back.”
“Oh, shut up.” Joel walked over, gingerly placing you down onto the mattress. He waited for you to get comfortable before climbing in behind you, pulling a wool blanket over both of your bodies. He pulled your back against his chest and draped his arm around you, his hand subconsciously—instinctively—resting on your stomach. His lips found the delicate spot behind your ear and he pressed his lips gently against it, sending a small shiver up your spine.
“Joel?”
“Hm?” He mumbled into your ear. He was already falling asleep.
They were right there, right on the tip of your tongue, those three words that you had been aching to say to him for years.
I love you.
“Nevermind.” You sighed softly. “Goodnight.”
“Mm, g’night,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into your neck before allowing his sleep to consume him.
#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller angst#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller pedro pascal#tlou fanfiction#tlou imagine#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x reader#fic: tdtrt
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Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sibling!Reader: Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You
A/N: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…
Warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)
-Part 2[*]-
“How was she today?”
You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.
“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.
Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.
Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.
“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.
“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.
It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.
You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.
Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.
What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?
“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.
A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.
But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.
So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.
“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”
“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.
“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?
“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.
“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.
“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.
“What else?”
You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.
“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.
My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.
“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”
“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.
His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.
“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”
“What did you think?”
You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”
“She doesn’t love him.”
“I know she says that, but—”
“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”
“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”
Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”
“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”
“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”
“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”
“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.
“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”
“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”
His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”
“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?
Anti-climactic.
Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.
“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.
His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.
He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.
“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”
You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”
There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.
“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.
“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.
It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.
But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”
“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.
He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.
“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”
He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”
Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”
Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.
But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.
“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”
“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”
And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?
For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.
“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”
You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.
In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.
But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.
How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.
He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.
But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?
Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.
He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.
Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb
#azriel#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#shadowsinger#Azriel angst#Azriel x Archeron sibling#part one#Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You
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noodles
carmen berzatto x reader | 1.9k | based on this absolutely adorable request from my darling @thecapricunt1616 enjoy it then i am beyond happy 💗🌼🫶🏻
It didn't matter how many times you shook the plastic stick, the little pink plus sign didn't fade. You tossed it in the trash can, where it joined three others with matching pink pluses. You couldn't really get your head around it, you'd been careful, taken things relatively slow..well, kind of.
Things had just progressed a little quicker than you'd expected. One minute you're applying for a hostess job, thinking you probably won't even get an interview, seeing as it was a Michelin-starred hotspot, then next thing you're front and center at a fancy restaurant and spending large portions of your shift flirting with the head chef.
It was never serious flirting, it was just silly and fun. You made flirty comments to everyone, you just particularly meant them with Carmy. He finally seemed to get the hint when you asked him upstairs after he'd dropped you home for the 10th time.
Nothing really happened that night, you just shared a drink, cheap wine from your refrigerator, and made each other laugh with stupid jokes. You told him you meant it when you flirted, he insisted you were joking. It was only when you kissed him that he finally got the message, kissing you back with a fervor that had your head spinning in the most wonderful way.
From there you two developed a relationship that suited you both. You were professional at work, still had some nights apart when you were both exhausted or just needed some alone time. But you had spent hours sitting on his kitchen counter watching him cook, told him stories from your past, encouraged him to tell you some stories too. You watched movies that you didn't pay full attention to, you read your book with your legs over Carm's lap, rolling your eyes with a grin when he would tease you for looking so serious.
It was the best relationship you'd ever been in, and while you weren't sure what the future held, you were positive Carm would be a big part of it, that you two would keep going, develop your relationship.
Sure, you had thought about kids, marriage, a home together etc., but in a kind of just-for-fun-daydreamy kind of way.
Now, one of those things was becoming a reality. It wasn't exactly how you would have planned it, you and Carm weren't even living together. Sure, you stayed at his most nights of the week and had more than a few personal belongings left there, but it wasn't the same.
It felt like moving in should have been the next step. The excitement of starting to really build a foundation together. You were just skipping ahead a step or two, apparently.
Eventually you left the bathroom and chose to sit on your bed for a while instead. You called your doctor and made an appointment, more as a formality. Maybe it would feel more real when your doctor told you rather than seeing it on a plastic stick you'd peed on.
Once you were dressed you went to make a coffee before stopping yourself, wondering if it was ‘allowed’, even though it was so early on. You decided to play it safe, having a herbal tea instead, which you nearly choked on when your phone rang, Carmy's ID flashing up on the screen.
Did he know? How could he know?
“Hey,” You smiled as much as you could, trying to feel normal. “How are you? How is everything?”
You hoped you didn't sound too unusual or not yourself, feeling annoyingly aware of yourself.
“Hey, everything's good,” Carm replied and you felt yourself relax a little. “Just..there's been a slight change of plan for today.”
You stifled a laugh, nothing Carm could say could be a bigger change of plan than an unexpected pregnancy.
“Oh? You raised a brow, lightly tapping your nails against your cup. “What's up?”
“So, it turns out that apparently I promised Richie and Sug that I'd babysit while they have some meetings. I hate to ask when it's your day off but..could you help me?”
You couldn't help but laugh, resting your head on your head on your hand and letting out a soft sigh.
“Of course I'll help, don't worry. When do you need me?”
An couple of hours later, you found yourself at Carmy's apartment, smiling as he opened the door looking flustered, a toddler on his hip and a doll in his hand.
“Perfect timing,” He smiled, stepping aside to let you in. “I'm outnumbered.”
“Who said I'm on your side?” You raised a brow, smiling at the little boy on Carmy's hip and gently stroked his cheek as he giggled. “I'm here to help the kids gang up on you.”
“Oh good,” Carm nodded, lightly tapping you with the doll. “Bring it on.”
You made your way to the living room, smiling as you spotted Eva on the couch, giving her a little wave.
“Hey girly girl,” You grinned, going to sit next to her. “Hope you've been keeping your uncle busy?”
“Yeah,” She giggled, leaning over to you as Carm came into the room. You leaned down, smiling as she whispered in your ear.
A half hour or so later, you went to open the living room door as there was a knock, adjusting the toddler on your hip before opening it and trying to keep a straight face as you met Carm's eyes.
“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, raising a brow.
“Uh, yeah, actually,” Carmy nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “I have an appointment, I'm a little early but..maybe you could squeeze me in?”
“Maybe,” You nodded, biting your lip softly. “Come in, follow me.”
You turned and walked further into the room, gesturing to the couch. “Take a seat.”
“Yes ma'am,” Carm nodded as you walked to the kitchen door and opened it.
“Your two o'clock is early,” You said, glancing back to Carm for a moment.. “Do you want to fit him in now?”
You nodded before turning back to Carm and gesturing to the kitchen. “She'll see you now, come through.”
You walked into the kitchen and smiled as you watched Carm walk in, the smile on his face as he spotted the makeshift beauty salon that had been set up.
“Take a seat,” Eva gestured to the seat across the counter, an adorably serious look on her face. You placed the baby into his high chair by the table, smiling as you heard Eva boss her uncle around.
“Hands in the bowl, keep them still.”
You went to the fridge, taking out a little light blue lunch box before glancing over to Carm with a smile.
“What color do you want?” Eva asked, pointing to the handful of nail polishes sitting on the counter.
“Hm, I'm not sure,” Carm mused, looking at the colors. “I got a big date tonight, I wanna look my best. What do you think will suit me?”
You smiled to yourself as you put the lunch box in the microwave, laughing softly as you heard Eva tell Carm to hold still.
After lunch and Carmy's nail appointment, you decided to take the kids to the park, feeling a new wave of love for your boyfriend that he made no attempt to remove the red nail polish. When you were taking the stroller to the lift, one of Carm's neighbors passed you in the hall and smiled at you and realized that it wouldn't be long before the baby in the stroller would be yours.
You brushed off the thought, trying to focus on just having a nice, fun day. As you were en route to the park, Carm asked if you could have a little detour, and you were sure the look on the kids faces when you arrived at build-a-bear would never leave you.
Carm took his nephew from the stroller and placed him on his hip before taking him to pick out a teddy, your heart swelling in your chest, moreso when Eva took your hand and asked you to help her choose.
You found yourself subconsciously placing your hand on your stomach, wondering what it would feel like to hold your own baby on your hip, feel their hand in yours, see the excitement in their eyes when they were presented with a cute little toy.
Carm's nephew had picked a bear (perhaps with a little nudge from his uncle), that ended up in a chefs uniform (that one was a total push), while Eva chose a bunny that she chose a performance outfit for.
When you got back to Carm's, you were more than happy to chill on the couch, though you practically melted into it when Carm got a book and read to the kids (and their new toys) til they were asleep.
“Not a bad effort,” You smiled, looking over to Carm and trying not to imagine the toddler that could be in his lap one day. “You might actually be pretty good at this whole uncle thing.”
“I might just be,” Carm grinned, reaching out to touch your hand. “Had help from the best though.”
“You're welcome,” You smiled, gently stroking his hand. “I presume that's why you're taking me on a..big date, was it?”
“Oh absolutely,” Carm nodded, looking serious for a moment before he grinned. “the biggest.”
“Hm, guess I'll have to get glammed up,” You smiled, looking over to Eva. “Maybe I'll see if I can get a last minute appointment.”
That evening, after a quick trip home to grab a change of clothes, you were back in Carmy's apartment. It felt so quiet without the kids, you found yourself putting on music just for background noise.
When you were in the bathroom putting on your makeup, you felt a wave of nausea hit you, more out of nerves than anything else. You hoped it would leave, but before you knew it you were bent over the toilet, taking a deep breath as you waited for the inevitable.
There was a knock on the bathroom door when you were washing your hands, looking up at the mirror taking a deep breath. Even with makeup you still looked unwell.
“Hey,” Carm smiled as you opened the door, the concern evident on his face. “Are you okay? I thought I heard..”
“I'm fine,” You nodded, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh as the concern didn't leave his face. “I just..need to talk to you.”
You walked into the bedroom, sitting on the bed and trying to think of the right words.
“Okay,” You began. “this is..really not what I thought would happen, and I don't know how you're going to take this but..oh god..”
As you buried your head in your hands, Carm was immediately by your side, his arm around your waist.
“Whatever it is you can tell me,” He assured you. “I promise. Just let it out, we'll handle it.”
“I'm pregnant.” You said before you could stop yourself or build it up more, lowering your hands and looking over to Carm.
“You're..wow,” Carmy nodded, rubbing his jaw. “Well, thank fuck for that. I mean, I knew, but I thought you were dumping me.”
“Wait what?” You raised a brow. “You knew? How did you know?”
“I just knew,” Carm shrugged with a smile. “I mean, I guess I hoped I was right..I know it's skipping ahead a little but..I want what we had today, all the time.”
“Can you stop being so perfect for like one day?” You rolled your eyes with a grin, resting your head on Carmy's shoulder. “Or maybe just after the big date.”
#the bear#the bear 🐻#the bear fic#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#why do so many of my stories involve kids and or pregnancy#it's not intentional#just a vibe#🫶🏻🌼💗
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you don't belong || Joel Miller x reader
summary: You really like Joel, more than you've ever liked someone before. But the most important person in his life absolutely hates your guts and you have no idea what to do.
warnings: angst to fluff, swearing, break up/make up. possibly OOC Joel.
a/n: Ahhhh this is my first longer fic in a hot second!! I did this instead of writing a final paper so I hope you enjoy <33
taglist: @avengersfan25
Joel and Ellie were family. To anyone it’s easy to see just how much the two of them truly care for each other. They don’t say it. Instead they tell each other in other ways. Their close bond is why you so desperately wanted Ellie to like you.
She’s a tough kid with a smart mouth and you admired her for it. You didn’t expect to be welcomed into their small family dynamic easily. In fact you didn't plan on it at all. Months were spent dancing around each other, sending flirty looks and sharing quiet moments when time would allow it.
The kiss, the first time either of you did something about the growing attraction, was short and sweet and happened in the middle of the night in his living room. You wanted something with Joel and he wanted it too.
The day he asked you on an official date was the happiest day you’ve had in a long time. But there was one major problem. Ellie hated you. You tried to win her over, or at least get her to not glare at you the moment she saw you.
When Joel would see you in town with Ellie by his side he’d light up and for a moment you’d forget everything and smile back. Then your eyes drifted to the side and you saw the annoyed look on Ellies face. Her eyes refuse to even meet yours.
Then it all comes crashing down again.
A peace offering, that’s what you were offering. Walking up to his house knowing he wasn’t there was a risk. But you cared a lot about Joel and you didn’t want this tension between you and Ellie anymore. If you could show her that she could trust you, that you weren’t trying to hurt either of them. Then maybe things would get better.
“Joel’s not here.” She opens the door and stares you down. She glances at the small bowl in your hands filled with fresh strawberries that you sneaked from the gardens. Joel had told you strawberries were her favorite so you hoped this would help. She hasn't slammed the door in your face yet so that's progress.
“I know, these are for you.” You offer the bowl to her but she doesn’t take it.
“Why?”
“Can I come in?” You ask gently.
The hope slowly fading as she seems more closed off than ever. Without a word she rolls her eyes and leaves the door open. Walking away towards the living room. Stepping inside you place the bowl on the kitchen counter and find her reading a book.
“Ellie, I was hoping we could talk.” You sit on the couch near her, nails digging into your knees.
“About what?” At times like this she really does resemble Joel. That ice cold look from her makes you shiver.
“Look I know you don’t like me and I’m not trying to force anything between us.” You start, nerves taking over as she sets down her book. Her face unchanging as she listens to you.
“But I really care about Joel and you…I just. I don’t want things to be this weird between us.” She clenches her fist and snaps at you.
“If you really cared then you’d leave us alone!” She knows deep down that you haven’t done anything to hurt Joel but you could eventually.
You could show up and take all his attention away and leave him broken. You could want him to change himself to fit the town standards or ruin what the two of them have already built. It took a while for her to truly trust Tommy and Maria and they were Joel’s real family.
You aren’t.
“Ellie…” You try not to let her words hurt you but they do.
“We don’t need you okay? I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to hurt you Ellie but-” You try but again she cuts you off. She's angry, shouting and finally letting it all out. Fear clouding her judgement as she hurls words that sting hard.
"I don’t care. Don’t pretend like you actually care about me when all you want is Joel.”
“That’s not true.” You say firmly.
“We’re happy without you, so just fuck off and leave us alone.” She storms upstairs and slams the door, shaking the whole house with it.
Pushing the palms of your hand to your eyes you try to suppress the tears. It’s clear that no matter what you do, she’ll never even tolerate you.
You love Joel but you can’t force yourself into their life. No matter how much it hurts. Ellie is everything to him. Wiping your eyes you stand up and open the door to leave.
“Baby?” You freeze at the sound of his voice.
Looking up you find Joel walking up to the door, a confused look on his face. He clocks the tears in your eyes immediately. His hands cup your face gently.
“I think we should break up.”
“What? Why?” He asks bewildered, hell just yesterday the two of you met for lunch and now you’re breaking up with him. You pull his hands away from your face but he grabs onto your wrists before you can leave.
“Baby please…Tell me what’s wrong.” His eyes go wide and fearful as you yank your hands away.
“I’m sorry Joel.” Every step you take away from Joel feels like a crack in your heart until it finally breaks.
Tears blur your vision as you slam the door to your horribly empty house. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a while and now it's gone. But it’s for the best, it’s for him. For Ellie.
At least that’s what you have to tell yourself to sleep that night.
- - - -
Life without Joel has been hell. You desperately missed him and while you managed to go back to appearing like nothing ever happened, deep down you were miserable. You missed the small dates and sweet talks. Now instead of getting butterflies when you see him you get a gaping hole in your chest.
Joel wasn’t doing much better. Not that he showed it though. At least not in a very clear way. He took longer patrols, more dangerous routes. Started spending more time in his house than he used to. Even snapping at people more than usual. He’s turned into even more of an asshole and it was driving Ellie crazy.
After the talk the two of you had, she calmed down a bit. Still convinced she did the right thing but things did feel off still. She knew that you leaving was the cause of his lashing out. She wanted to protect him but now it feels like she’s ruined it all.
Thank god for Maria putting them on patrol together, much to Joel's annoyance. He hates when she goes on Patrol even though she’s more capable than half the adults in town. The air that’s normally filled with questions is now just silence between the two.
“Hey Joel, is all this about...You know.” She asks. Her grip tightening on her gun as she walks side by side with Joel.
“No.” His reply is short and his tone doesn’t leave much room for any follow up but she pushes anyway.
“Then what’s gotten up your ass lately?” Joel rolls his eyes and keeps walking. He’s not particularly interested in discussing his failed romances right now.
There’s a small trickle of guilt that builds in Ellie as she takes in the state of Joel. Sure to most people he doesn’t look any different, still the same stone faced guy they see everyday. But Ellie knows him much better than most people.
Something’s wrong and it has to do with you. She didn’t mean to snap at you, but the protectiveness she feels for Joel outweighed any guilt at the time. Ellie stops and sighs.
There’s a nearby broken down fence that she puts her weight against. Her and Joel aren’t good at these kinds of talks.
“Hear somethin?” Joel raises his gun slightly higher, eyes darting around for any signs of people.
”I uh..It’s my fault. That they ran away.” Joel slings his gun across his back and crosses his arms. Not fully grasping what she’s saying.
“I said some things and I think it’s why they stopped talking to you.” A sudden realization dawns on him and his arms fall to his sides.
“Now why’d you do that?” His voice is a lot calmer than she expected and honestly that’s scarier. She shifts from side to side as she tries to find the right words.
“I’ve had a lot of people in my life…” She starts. “And those people have left. Except for you.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Joel says and she nods. She knows that. Really. He’s proven that in his own ways.
“Letting someone else in is hard and I didn’t want it all to. Disappear.” Joel’s silent, processing it all for a moment. Leaves crunch under his boots as he walks over to Ellie. Leaning against the old fence and stares out at Jackson.
The two of them don't really do sappy moments. They don't hold each other and cry and blubber on about how much they love each other, but that doesn't mean they don't know it. How much they mean to each other and how scary the idea of it going away can be.
“It don’t matter who comes through our lives ‘cause nothin’s gonna change between us. Ever. Alright?” His hand rests next to Ellies, a small smile on his face that she doesn’t see.
“That mean I’m stuck with your old ass forever?”
“More like I’m stuck with you, now let’s finish this damn thing so we can go eat.” Joel pushes off the fence and offers his hand out to Ellie who takes it.
Together they move a little faster and walk a little closer, ready to be done with patrol.
- - - -
You didn’t expect the knock at your door on a random afternoon. Opening the door you’re met with the last person you expected to see. Ellie.
“Uh Hi,” You quickly step to the side to let her in, confused on why she’s here when she couldn’t even look at you before.
“Is something wrong?” Your brain jumps to the worst, if she was here willingly then something must have happened.
“No. I uh. I’m here to apologize.” She seems uncomfortable as she looks around your house. Here eyes settling on one of Joel’s jackets that you haven’t given back yet.
“I shouldn’t have said those things to you and…I didn’t mean it.”
“Ellie,” You say softly. Yes her words hurt but she’s just a kid.
“Joel means a lot to you and I get why you felt that I was, stepping into somewhere I didn’t belong.”
“But you do belong!” She says quickly. "You make him happy." You can tell she’s really trying and it makes you feel better about it all.
“I think we should start over, really get to know each other.” You offer knowing that things can’t become perfect overnight but the two of you can try.
“I’d like that.” Hesitantly you squeeze her shoulder in a loving way, hoping that you aren’t overstepping.
“Well now that we’re friends, I know a guy who’s been a real dick since you left.” You laugh and she does too. It’s a nice sound.
“I’ll take care of that, you alright to walk home?” She nods and you lead her to the door.
Ellie stops for a second before smiling back at you. As she walks off the dread of the last few weeks seems to have lifted. You don’t know what happened but you’re glad it did.
Wasting no time, you hurry to the barns, knowing Joel feeds the sheep on Wednesdays. He’s sitting by the pasture. Watching them with a peaceful look on his face.
“Joel.” You say breathlessly. His head whips around, eyes wide in shock.
“What’re you doin here?” He stands and walks over to you. His arms wrapping around your waist as if nothing had ever happened.
“Ellie came over and we talked, she told me that you’ve been miserable without me.” Placing your hands on his chest you lean closer into his arms. You missed being held by him so much.
“Did she now? Tell you anything else?” He asks.
Shaking your head you gently cup his face and pull him in for a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back, chasing that feeling he’s missed for weeks.
“Missed you so much.” He mumbles against your lips. His soft brown eyes staring deep into your own.
“Come over tonight,” and never leave. That house of his is too big for two people anyways.
“I’d love to.” His arms don’t budge as the sheep baa loudly, wanting to make up for lost time.
“Need to introduce the two of you properly. Have some family bonding time.”
“Am I family now?” You ask teasingly, though your heart leaps at the idea. You’d love to be considered so important to Joel.
“No doubt about it baby,” He kisses your forehead gently. Sometimes things change and people come and go, but there’s no way in hell Joel’s ever going to let his little family go.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller oneshot#joel miller x you#joel miller angst
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Fall Into Me - Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky
dbf!Joel x f!reader
Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 3.5k
Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, but there's a little bit of progress. Tommy is the hero in this chapter. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!
Chapter Three | Main Masterlist
Sleep evaded Joel Saturday night, his mind unable to shut down and rest. He spent half the night searching for words to fit what he was experiencing. The right one didn’t occur to him until nearly five o’clock in the morning.
Turmoil.
That was the perfect word to describe the utter confusion and uncertainty boiling inside him.
His date went about as well as could be expected when one wasn’t particularly interested in the other person. There was conversation, but it mostly revolved around Annica and her interests. She asked a few polite questions about Joel but didn’t seem too interested in his responses. To be fair, they were short and rather ineloquent, but he barely had the chance to talk about Sarah before the woman changed the subject. She was also very much not his type.
She wasn’t you.
That’s the part which caused the most turmoil.
Joel didn’t realize how quickly he was falling for you until he was on a date with someone else. It somehow felt like a betrayal toward you, even though you and Joel weren’t together. Even though you didn’t even know that he liked you, more than liked you.
This entire thing was eating him up inside, all your interactions since Friday, but especially the way you bolted from him last night. He didn’t understand what happened until he checked out his face in the mirror, your parting comment finally making sense.
Annica had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off. He knew she wanted more, at least a real kiss, but he offered nothing other than a loose hug and brief thanks for joining him. So, she pressed her painted lips to his cheek for several moments too long, subtly trying to turn his face toward hers, before he finally stepped back and walked away. He didn’t even wait for her to get into her house safely.
To his dismay, she left a clear and distinct reminder of her on his cheek that he was not aware of until you mentioned it. His face burned with the feeling of being marked like territory, and the worst part was you saw it. Who the fuck knew what you thought of him now.
Joel needed advice, someone to talk this all through with. If the situation didn’t involve you, he would have gone to you for advice. You were so easy to talk to and he opened up more easily with you than he had with anyone else in his entire life. But that was out of the question for… obvious reasons.
Your dad was equally as easy to talk to, a quality you must have inherited from him. But he couldn’t turn to JB about this for the same obvious reasons.
That left his brother. Tommy would give Joel a good ribbing about all this. Joel wasn’t ashamed to admit that his brother had more practical experience with dating and complicated relationships, especially recently, than he did. It was time to capitalize on all of Tommy’s shenanigans.
Dangerously under-caffeinated and bleary-eyed, Joel made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for the usual Sunday morning family breakfast. Tommy joined them a little after nine o’clock and helped himself to the spread. He knew better than to ask Joel about his date in front of Sarah, so the younger brother made quiet conversation with Sarah as Joel sipped at his coffee. She told him all about her adventure to the movies with you and how much she loved hanging out with you, how smart you were, and how pretty.
A stupid grin spread over Joel’s face as his daughter spoke about you. He could feel Tommy’s narrowed gaze burning into the side of his head, which he ignored until Sarah finished her food and ran off to play a video game in the living room.
“You gonna make me ask?” Tommy grinned at Joel as he cleared the table. Joel merely quirked a brow and focused on washing the dishes. “Fine, ya ol’ grumpy ass. How was the date?”
“Was alright. She talked, a lot,” Joel emphasized, “and mostly about herself. We don’t have much in common other than we like to eat. The movie she picked to see was God awful. I’d rather have seen the other movie with Sarah.”
“Really?” Tommy placed the last of the dirty flatware next to the sink, watching as Joel scrubbed each item before rinsing it off. “Annica texted me that she had a wonderful time and hoped there’d be a second date. Asked if I could put in a good word for her. Guess that’s not happenin’.”
“There’d be no point. She’s not who I’m interested in.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, and he cringed when Tommy latched right on them.
“Ohhhh, and who might you be interested in, dear brother?” The shit-eating grin on the younger brother’s face let Joel know that Tommy already had an idea on who piqued his interest. “Couldn’t be JB’s hot little daughter, could it? You going cradle robbin’ now?”
Punching his brother in the arm, hard, Joel growled. “I ain’t robbin’ any cradles, asshole. She’s only about nine years younger than me.”
“Oh, is that all?” Tommy teased, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting.
“Don’t get me started on how you almost got busted for statutory rape last year, dickhead.”
“Hey now, I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.” Tommy surrendered, adding a grumbled, “And you know damn well that wasn’t on purpose. That girl looked 25! She sure had me fooled.”
Joel nodded, heading out to the back patio with another cup of coffee. Tommy followed, stopping briefly to grab a can of soda from the fridge. The pair sat quietly listening to the sound of songbirds singing the songs of their people before Joel finally spoke.
“I feel like an idiot asking this, but how do you tell if a woman is into you?”
Tommy nearly spilled soda all down the front of himself, the question caught him so off-guard. ���Whadda ya mean?” he spluttered, trying not to choke on the carbonated liquid.
Rolling his big brown eyes with a huff, Joel glared at his brother. “I mean just what I said. I’m so outta practice with this. I keep second guessin’ everything. I just don’t know…”
Taking pity on his older brother, Tommy refrained from razzing him further. He was intrigued by this version of his brother who lacked self-confidence, so different from the over-confident man Joel used to be, at least when it came to women.
“Just so I understand, do you want to know how to tell if any woman is into you or a specific woman?”
Brows pulling together, Joel stared at Tommy blankly for a moment. “Does it make a difference?”
Tommy’s lips spread into a wide grin, deep brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “It sure as hell does, brother. There are few key ways to tell with most women, but if it’s a specific woman you’re curious about, I may have some intel.”
The struggle to hide his overwhelming curiosity on the ‘intel’ his brother had was a losing game, and Joel relented, his cheeks growing hot as he uttered the words. “Fine. It’s JB’s daughter.”
The room stilled as the brothers stared at each other, the grin on Tommy’s face growing impossibly wider until nearly all his pearly whites were on display. “I knew it! You dirty dog.”
“Tommy,” Joel growled, drawing out the two syllables until his brother sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.
“Fine, no razzin’.” Tommy grumbled. He waited a few beats until Joel grew even more uncomfortable. “She’s into you, too.”
Joel perked up at that. “That’s your intel? How do you know?”
Looking around the backyard, Tommy thought of all the times he’d been around and caught you ogling his brother when you thought no one was watching, but none rivaled that time in the kitchen when you stared as Joel pulled his tee shirt off to put in on right side out. Tallying it all up in his mind, Tommy was certain that you had a thing for his brother. And now, it seemed he had a thing for you, too.
The question Tommy had now was, would either of you do anything about it?
With recent history as proof, he had his doubts.
Perhaps it was time to give you each a little nudge.
“It’s in the way she looks at you, all wide-eyed with wonder, like she’s imagining what it’d be like to be with you. I flirted with her for nearly an hour one day and she never looked at me like that once.” Tommy smirked at the glassy look that overcame his brother’s eyes. “Well, that and the drool dripping down her chin every time she sees you.”
“Yeah… wait, what?” It took a moment for Joel to catch on. “Fuckin’ asshole, I swear. She doesn’t drool when she looks at me.”
Laughter rumbled from deep within Tommy’s chest. “She might as well do with as into you as she is. I’m telling you, pay attention to how she is around you and you’ll see.”
The brothers fell silent again with Joel’s thoughts drowning in you. If what Tommy said was true, then you must be hurting over the fact that he went on a date with someone else, more so since you also saw him on that date. Already feeling like such a dick, worry over you weighed more heavily on him this morning. He had to fix this, but how?
Part of Joel wanted to rush over to JB’s and check on you, but the other part was terrified of how that would work out, especially if your dad was home and wanted to know why his best friend was frantic to see his daughter.
Shit. JB. Joel still needed to figure out how to navigate that part of this entire situation. The two of you could like each other all day long, but how would JB react?
Joel envisioned several scenarios that ended with him getting his nose bashed in by your old man. He wasn’t looking forward to that.
“What about JB?” Joel finally broke the silence, looking once again to his younger brother for guidance. “If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”
Placing his empty bottle on the patio table between them, Tommy nodded. “Ok. Let’s think about this. Do you always check with a chick’s dad before askin’ her out?”
“’Course not, but this is different.”
“I get that but hear me out. What if you try before you buy?” Tommy asked.
Joel immediately stiffened. “I’m not gonna just fuck her before asking her on a date. Jesus, Tommy.” Not that he didn’t want to fuck you… he most certainly did, but Joel wanted to do this right. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted something meaningful, and he suspected you would as well.
“That’s not what I meant, asshole. Ya can quit clutchin’ your pearls like you ain’t banged a chick before the first date before.”
“Tommy,” Joel growled again. Little brothers were the worst no matter what age they were.
“Jeez, alright, fine. You’re really into her, I get it. I’m not sayin’ sleep with her first. I’m suggestin’ you ask her out and see where this is goin’ before you go to JB with your tail between your legs, is all.” Tommy explained, already getting fed up with how easily Joel got his feathers ruffled.
Considering the advice, and ignoring his brother’s snippy tone, Joel bobbed his head in a nod. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”
“I’m full of good ideas, sometimes. I got another one, actually. Get your grumpy ass to the store and buy some new shirts. Everything you own is at least ten years old and worn down. You need to dress better if you’re gonna date a younger woman.”
Another point to Tommy. He sure was racking them up.
“Fine. I fuckin’ hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Joel grumbled, looking down at the tee shirt he was wearing. It used to be black and faded to a cloudy gray from years of wearing and washing. “You mind watchin’ Sarah for a while so I can run to the mall?”
“Not at all, brother. I was hoping to watch the game on your flat screen anyway.” Tommy led the way back inside the house.
Emily: Sounds like you need some retail therapy, asap.
The pair of you spent the past hour texting about Joel’s date the night before. Emily’s emoji reactions were priceless as you recounted seeing them together at the movie theater and she was pissed on your behalf when you told her about the lipstick mark on his cheek. The conversation came full circle before Emily suggested the retail therapy.
You: Omg do I ever. Mall?
Emily: I can’t ☹ Ed wants my help with the garden. Again. I swear, I hate this fucking garden.
You: Booo. How dare you pick your husband over me
Emily: I gotta go with the one who has the bigger dick. Ur girl has needs u know that 😉
You: Yeah yeah. Chat later?
Emily: You bet. Have fun. Buy lots!
An hour later, you walked through Barton Creek Square, window shopping with a chocolate smoothie clutched in your hand. Not sure exactly what you were in the mood for, you started with clothing. This mall was a bit upscale for your budget, but you always enjoyed perusing the department store discount racks. Tossing your empty cup into the garbage can, you entered the large store.
Somehow, you found yourself searching through flannel shirts in the men’s department. Stopping for a moment once you realized what you were doing, you sighed. There was no escaping thoughts of Joel Miller, even subconsciously, it seemed. Huffing in frustration, you turned to walk back to the women’s section where you’d find things you actually needed when you heard your name.
Joel stood on the other side of the rack, eyes wide with surprise at the sight of you. His cheek was clean, no lipstick mark in sight, you noted. Just the normal, totally endearing patchy scruff. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing here?”
“Shopping,” you stated the obvious with a shrug, delighted at the pink tinge creeping up his cheeks.
“Me, too. Obviously.” Joel nodded, rolling his eyes – at you or himself, you weren’t sure. “I could use your help, actually.”
You weren’t expecting that. He looked at you with such open hope in his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. “Ok, shoot.” Your heart nearly exploded at the smile that spread across his face, putting his dimple on full display.
“I can’t decide which of these to go with,” Joel replied, holding up several flannels. After a moment, he put those across the top of the discount rack and held up a pile of tee shirts. “Or these.”
Eyes taking in the details of each selection – he had good taste; you could picture each option on him – you hummed. “Have you tried any of them on?” Joel shook his head, the mop of curls swaying deliciously with the movement. “Ok. Go try them on. That’s usually how I decide.”
Turning toward the fitting room with a nod, Joel paused and turned back around. “Come with me? I need your honest opinion on each one.”
Brow furrowed, you followed behind him wordlessly, eyes straying to his backside of their own accord. He wore the same dark, fitted jeans as last night and you swore beneath your breath at yet another reminder of his date. No amount of staring at his nice ass could pull that jealous feeling from your gut. He went on a date with someone and for all you knew, it could have been the best damn date of his entire damn life.
Leaning back against the wall opposite the fitting room Joel chose, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and wondered what the hell you were doing. You came to the mall for a distraction, to treat yourself and get your mind off the man on the other side of the fitting room door. Now you were… what? His wardrobe consultant?
Helping Joel pick out new clothes seemed like the job of a girlfriend, not his daughter’s babysitter. Let’s face it, you thought, that’s all you were to him. Mood growing sourer by the second, you startled as the door ripped open in front of you.
“What do you think?”
The universe was a fickle bitch. It wasn’t fair that Joel stood there looking like the man of your dreams and you didn’t get to call him yours.
The first shirt Joel tried on fit like a glove, like the factory made it with his frame as the model in mind. The material had just the right amount of stretch across the breadth of his chest and shoulders, while hanging on for dear life around his biceps.
After ogling him for far too long, your eyes finally met Joel’s. “Looks good,” you said, the cadence of your voice not giving away the riotous flutter of desire flaring to life deep in your lower belly. “Let’s see the next one.”
Chocolate eyes sparkled with delight at your response as Joel slipped back into the fitting room. What you wouldn’t give to follow him in there. Already picturing it in your mind, you would slip to your knees in front of him, fingers undoing his belt and the button of his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. You’d wind one hand inside his pants to trace the curve of his cock through his boxer briefs before slipping the length of him out of the little secret pocket. Joel would be trying on his shirts as your lips—
“How about this one?”
“Jesus fucking nutcracker!” you exclaimed, Joel’s voice jolting you right out of that wonderful little daydream. So deep into the fantasy, you hadn’t heard the fitting room door open.
Concerned, Joel reached out a hand, his calloused fingertips and palm running over the bare skin of your forearm as you steadied yourself. “Do, uh… do you have Tourette’s or something?”
Bemused, you blinked up at him, head thumping back against the wall. “What? No, no. I was just lost in thought, and you startled me.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with having Tourette’s, you know.” Joel tripped over himself to make sure you didn’t think he was making fun of the disorder.
You waved him off. “Of course not.” Clearing your throat, eyes closing to recenter yourself, you counted to ten. The heat of Joel’s gaze like a burn on your skin, you opened your eyes and assessed his shirt. It was nice, a deep burgundy color, but the fit differed from the last one. You hated it. “I like the way the other one fit you better.”
The pattern continued until Joel tried on every shirt in his pile. You managed to keep your mind from straying again by making conversation.
“How did your date go last night?” You dreaded the answer but needed to know.
“It was… I’ve had better dates. She talked a lot,” he said through the fitting room door. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over, honestly. I just wanted to be home.”
“So, no second date then?” you confirmed, butterflies beginning to take flight in your belly.
“Hell no.”
A wave of relief washed over you at the conviction in Joel’s voice, but you tried not to let it show on your face or in your voice as he stepped through the door. “That’s too bad. You deserve to find someone great, Joel.”
He looked at you for a long time, his eyes penetrating like he was trying to tell you something without using words. You just had no idea what. You were about to bid him farewell as he paid for the shirts you chose – the bluish gray tee shirt that fit him so well and a flannel with similar hues, and two more just like them – when he stopped you.
“Uh, would you have lunch with me?” he asked shyly, eyes brimming with such eager hopefulness you nearly melted.
Part of you wanted to turn him down over hurt feelings he wasn’t even aware of, but you couldn’t. Not after what he just told you about his date. The other part of you screamed not to read too much into it, that he wasn’t asking you on a date. It would just be lunch with your boss. But the final part of you, the hopeless romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve and just helped the man pick out clothes like a girlfriend would, screamed that this could be your chance to get closer, that it could be a date if you made it one.
Fearing you stayed silent too long arguing with yourself, you rushed out a quick, “Sure.” Joel’s face lit up like you’d never seen before. He didn’t look anywhere near this happy when he left for his dinner date the night before.
tbc
Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel x female reader#the last of us#tlou#dbf!joel#Fall Into Me#pedro pascal#eventual smut#mutual pining#idiots falling for each other
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Between royalty and vows
Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader
Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.
In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.
Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.
Wouldn't it?
Wc:2.9k
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things start to progress).
Prologue | 1 | 2 |
Chapter 2: Presence
"I suppose it's important, Prince." You say softly, straightening his epaulette, while Leon looked at himself in the mirror.
Today he was preparing for another of those tiresome meetings between royalty and merchants. One more of the king's deals had gone through.
He nods, giving you his attention, "Yes, indeed. My father wants me to learn about these businesses before I become king."
You didn't know if you'd heard too much or something, but he seemed genuinely overwhelmed and fatigued by it all.
"If it's any consolation, I'm cheering you on." You say in a sweet smile, giving it one last adjust on his epaulette, leaving it suitably refined.
The sun lit up the room, the gentle light brightening every corner of the room. Just as it illuminated your gentle, sweet features, the way you smiled at him. Or even the way you made a point of checking if he needed help with anything else.
So he looked at you with those sparkling blue eyes, giving you the attention you'd been waiting for for a few minutes.
"Thank you for your words, princess." Despite the cordiality, you felt that there was still a distance, which was a shame.
Even though you had already been in the castle for a few days, the formalities still continued: 'Prince', 'Princess', or even 'Your Highness'. Never by your first names, or by any other name. It might sound silly, but it was a reminder that this treatment would continue for a long time.
He was still so formal and serious with you, even though you had already been living together for a few days. And there was no sign of him changing, but maybe it was too soon, maybe you had to wait.
Or maybe you were just daydreaming.
Taking a final look at himself, and then taking the opportunity to look you up and down. He couldn't deny the way you were always well dressed. You were always so kind to him, always treated him well even when he was distant from you.
He'd be lying if he didn't say that was an admirable quality in you.
So elegant, charming even. As much as he tried not to care, he loved the smell of your cologne. Something soft that reminded him of wild roses.
He was so captivated by looking at the ornaments that adorned your neck that he couldn't help but inhale your fragrance once more, letting the soft scent that surrounded you enter his nostrils, making him feel the sweetness once more.
"You look elegant, prince." You encouraged him, wrapping your arm around his as he began to take small steps towards the door.
He gives you a simple smile, leading you through the bustling corridors with the various workers. Everyone was looking at the two of you, and whispers could be heard here and there.
You knew that in this meeting your presence was only decorative, just like all the other spouses of the other seniors who would be there. Not that it bothered you, since it could be considered a relief if you spent more time around Leon. Even if it was an obligation.
The walk was as silent as ever, only polite smiles were exchanged between you and Leon, nothing too intimate. Leon was completely uncompromising with you, if you were being sincere he barely noticed you when you were that close.
He would only do so if he was in a good mood, which wasn't very often since he was always grumpy. And being close to you often made his mood worse.
However, you could see that he was trying, but the eyes don't lie. It wasn't hard to disguise the fact that he wasn't so much fond of you. Maybe it was just an annoyance and that would change with time, at least that's what you hoped.
It only took a few minutes for the two of you to reach the main hall, where you were greeted by all kinds of important guests. Even some you hadn't even seen in person.
Nothing more than the usual courtesies, pleasantries about the upcoming wedding and the union of the kingdoms, which was in fact the most important thing. In other words, what had made the whole situation happen.
After the proper introductions, you and Leon, along with the other guests, went to the room where the meeting was to take place, a spacious place that had been properly prepared for the occasion.
Soon the meeting began, with nothing but the usual fallacies and promises of the Kingdom's future prosperity.
Nothing you and Leon hadn't heard before, but you both knew that this was nothing more than a reinforcement of the future marriage.
That's because Leon's father always looked at him as he spoke, always made a point of leaving the word to his son every chance he got. He wanted to show his son's honor and pride
He needed to show all this to everyone present.
And even though Leon didn't like being the center of attention, he couldn't say no to his father, because unfortunately he was still following his father's orders.
After a few incessant hours, the meeting ended, with a certain exhaustion on the part of those present. After the farewells, which also seemed never-ending, you two headed down the corridors, approaching the stairs to go to your chambers.
As you walked slowly, you noticed the tired look on Leon's face, as he appeared to be completely drained.
"You did well, prince." You said in a sweet whisper, giving him an approving smile.
And then that was enough for him to look at you, giving you a brief smile, but one that never failed to make your heart flutter.
"Your presence was important, Your Highness." These could have been simple words, but you felt your knees weaken with them.
You chuckled, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.
Just as you were about to go upstairs, Leon's father called out to him from a distance, apparently wanting to talk to him about something personal.
You only heard a sigh come from Leon's lips, who then left you on the stairs to go on your way.
"I'll see you at dinner time." He says calmly, as he takes your covered hand and kisses the back of it. This time letting his lips linger there a little longer.
You get giddy every time he does that, your mind gets all messed up just feeling his lips like that.
With a charming smile, he bids you a courteous farewell and heads off in the direction of his father.
As soon as you walked the long stairs, you went straight to your bedroom, ready for a warm, comfortable bath before dinner.
But before you entered your room, something caught your eye. One of the maids was carrying a bouquet of flowers to Leon's room, and if you were being honest, the maid was in quite a hurry to carry the flowers.
From the way she was trying to sneak into Leon's room to put the flowers there, you could tell it was suspicious at best.
So you decided to go after the girl, to ask what she was doing. Slowly you approached, taking care not to alarm the woman or even make a fuss about it.
But even so, the young woman seemed to notice you, and unconsciously hid the bouquet behind her back in a clumsy way, as if to prevent you from seeing anything.
"Your Highness…" She stammered, trying to keep her composure and not get so nervous. Which failed if you were being honest.
You could see the apprehension in her wide eyes, just as her hands were shaking. What was so special about those flowers?
You nod, looking at her gently, "I imagine you're quite busy. You're in such a hurry."
You speak softly, just to level the waters, and even to appear unpretentious. She stuttered, only affirming with her head that she was in a hurry, not even trying to get into Leon's room.
"I… I was just passing by. I need to take these." She says, holding the flowers tightly, still in the same failed attempt to hide them from you.
You were about to ask one more question, but your eyes focused on a small piece of paper that had fallen to the floor, and looking at it you could tell it was a letter.
It wasn't long before you bent down and picked it up, holding it between your fingers. You didn't dare read it yet, because you already knew what it was about.
"Your Highness, this,—" You interrupt her discreetly, straightening your posture.
"I'm your highness, I don't suppose you have to hide anything from me," you then whispered, moving closer and standing in a spot where only you and she could hear each other, "Unless you're doing something wrong."
You didn't want to sound authoritative, but you just wanted to show a little sovereignty. You weren't going to let it go, under your nose was already too much.
"No, no princess." She says dimly, starting to get even more freaked out.
You didn't say much longer, your anxiety to read what was written on that letter was slowly eating away at you, and you had an overwhelming desire to find out what was there.
"Allow me." You whisper, gently taking the flowers from her hand. Carrying the bouquet in your arms.
Fresh lilies, just picked. They were kind of purplish in color, and smelled amazing. They were definitely beautiful.
The maid even tried to protest, but you dismissed her with a wave of your hand, heading for Leon's chambers. You soon entered the room, which was honestly not new to you, and you quickly closed the door behind you.
Once the silence hung in the air, you took a deep breath, looking at the flowers and the letter in your hand. And so you decided to look for a vase to put the delicate lilies in, and it wasn't hard to find, given the variety of things in Leon's room.
As soon as you placed the vase with the flowers next to Leon's bed, you decided it was time to read the letter in your hands.
The paper was all decorated, with beautiful calligraphy, as well as a few little hearts here and there. Certainly the kind of letter that lovers would exchange.
'Your favorites, handpicked. To the sweet prince, Leon.
-A
You knew that this was supposed to be something intimate and that you shouldn't even be reading it, but even though it was such a subtle message, it still showed how close these two were.
Your lips trembled as you felt your vision blur. How complicated were things getting?
You even tried to push these thoughts away, thinking that maybe you were just thinking too much. But how could you do that?
How were you supposed to act as his second choice, even though you were the woman he was going to marry?
You froze once all your thoughts stopped and focused on the voice that called out to you from across the room.
"Your Highness? What are you doing here?" Leon's tone was low, as if he was completely serious and sharp with you.
You turned around, taking a deep breath and controlling your emotions, giving the sweetest, most polite smile you could manage at that moment.
"They're for you, prince." You say with a smile, as if you weren't aware of anything. The flowers weren't the first thing he focused on.
At the same moment you saw the color fade from his face, it became pale, almost the color of paper. For a split second you saw an expression of fear and surprise come over him.
His eyes widened and he took a small step towards you, but stopped at the same moment. You could even see his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed dryly, his body stiffening.
Did he really think he was hiding this secret well? How innocent it would be to think so. If the rest of the kingdom knew, why shouldn't you?
He wasn't very good at disguising it, in fact. What was he supposed to say? Wasn't it too obvious? Surely you wouldn't miss it, at least you already knew what it was about.
You moved closer to the flowers that you yourself had put in a vase, bringing your nose closer so that you could smell the lilies.
"They smell good, whoever sent it, they have great taste." You say calmly, arranging the flowers in the vase once again.
You could feel your hands starting to shake slightly, something about what you were doing didn't feel right.
But what else could you do? Maybe it was daring, but you couldn't help yourself.
Nobody liked being cheated on.
He opened his mouth for a few seconds, thinking of anything he could say.
But all that came out was a weak, 'Oh'. Before he approached you and took a look at the flowers that were there.
His fingertip brushed lightly against one of the flowers, looking at them with a certain tenderness. He obviously knew who it was from, or rather, who had sent him these flowers.
It was clearer than day.
"My mother probably sent one of the maids to buy these fresh flowers." He manages to stutter after a while, unable to face you fully.
His mother? What a lame excuse, you think.
You take a few more steps across the room, the sound of your heels echoing through the large room. You didn't even make a point of hiding the suspicious expression forming on your face.
You were quick to grab the small letter before he saw it, before he had even arrived in the room. You already knew, and you also knew that he wouldn't admit it.
However, you had proof in your hands, certainly an affair outside of the marriage relationship would not go down well with royalty, even more so coming from a renowned prince like him.
You simply had the perfect weapon in your hands, ready to be used any time you needed it. Not that you were going to do it now, you didn't even want to have to do it at some point.
However, you did have something useful in case you needed it. You didn't want to take any rash action that you might regret.
"I'll have those flowers put somewhere else,—" You interrupted him, looking at him with a gentle, sweet smile, as if you weren't tearing up inside.
"No need, I think it looks nice here." You murmured, taking the opportunity to smell the sweet scent of the flowers once again
The tension was palpable, the heavy atmosphere that soon formed in that room. Every gesture showed the unease that had formed, your lips trembled and you pressed them tightly together so as not to let anything show
But he noticed, he noticed the way your fists were clenched and that you were trembling slightly, as well as the drop of water forming in the corner of your eyes.
He knew that you might have suspected something, but what could he do? There was nothing he could say or do that would comfort you in any way.
It was as cruel for you as it was for him.
You exchanged silent but strangely meaningful glances, as if you were playing a game of chess.
The flowers and the letter became symbols of a game of appearances, where every gesture hid secrets that could dismantle the façade of a royal marriage.
And you both knew it, after all it was a game that only two could play, and you were both learning and understanding how this game would work.
It was certainly even worse in practice, but there was nothing you could do about it. Even more so, Leon was looking at the flowers in a somewhat puzzled way, but at the same time there was a certain gleam in his eye.
He couldn't hide that body language. Not even if he tried.
"If you wish, the flowers stay." He broke the silence, staring at you with that cold, penetrating gaze that was so mesmerizing.
You nodded, making a point of putting the flowers on the shelf next to his bed, acting as if you weren't interested or uncommitted to the whole thing.
God, you felt yourself breaking every time you looked at the petals, at the smell that wafted through the room.
"If the prince will excuse me, I'll go to my chambers." You said with the same sweet smile, bowing to him and leaving his room.
All you had in your ears was the sound of your heels clacking against the floor as you moved lightly to your own room.
Leon didn't say a word, he didn't even walk you to your usual bedroom door. You didn't know if it was anger or surprise, perhaps because he hadn't imagined that you would act so calmly.
Even though he could sense that you were hurt.
In the end, appearances would be kept up, even if the night had been stormy. One step at a time, day after day.
There was no such thing as a sad day in royalty, so you could already prepare your smile for the next day.
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#leon x reader#leon x y/n#leon x you#leon resident evil#leon kennedy smut#leon scott kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy smut#leon smut#re leon#resident evil leon
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riptide
“I was scared of dentists and the dark
I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations
Oh, all my friends are turning green
You're the magician's assistant in their dream”
summary: going on the camp's field trip to olympus because clarisse asked you to, meeting your father and clarisse's father and also, there are new updates from camp - luke gone, and percy's arrival
pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader
word count: 6.7k (14 year old me would never believe me if i said i casually wrote a 6k chapter)
tags: mostly fluff, tiny splash and angst
series masterlist 3/?
The date ended really late – you fell asleep on the beach, and Clarisse didn’t have the heart to wake you up. She didn’t dare, you looked too peaceful to disturb. You loved taking naps and whenever you were around Clarisse, you felt safe enough to do so. By the time you woke up, it was already dark, and Clarisse had put your blouse back on you because it started to get chilly. When you realised what time it was, you hurried Clarisse and grabbed all your bags before leaving the beach.
The ride back home was quite long, and once you got into camp, it was really quiet. You and Clarisse tried to be quiet, and walked slowly towards your cabins, but then you heard footsteps. Both of you whipped around. Chiron, hands on his hip and Mr D, standing next to him.
“Hi,” you waved.
Clarisse swiftly grabbed your hand to put it down.
“You missed the curfew,” Mr D said.
“What– What curfew? There was one?” you hesitated, looking at Clarisse.
“Yes,” Mr D continued, “it was written, black on white, that you should be home before 9pm. And it’s, would you look at that,” he showed you his watch-less wrist, “it’s past 11!”
“We– I didn’t know,” you explained, “I- I mean– I can’t read and neither can she.”
Chiron shook his head, and Clarisse stepped in front of you, shielding you from their disappointed faces.
“We’re sorry, we didn’t see the time.”
Your hand was grabbing tightly onto Clarisse’s arm.
“Go back to your cabins and rest,” Chiron said.
“Yeah, cause you’ll need it for the cleaning duties you’ll get for the whole week or month, I still haven’t decided yet haha,” Mr D finished and walked away.
You were once again alone. You sighed.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, not daring to look at her.
“What for?”
“I should’ve read the whole letter, I should've known and now because of me you’ll have cleaning duties for maybe a whole month!”
“I don’t mind, I had a great time today,” you raised your head up at this, “I’ll do another month again if it means we get to do that again.”
“Really?” you smiled.
“Really, now go to sleep.”
It ended up being a whole month of cleaning duties, but neither of you cared because you got to be together.
Your summer was split between three people, Clarisse, Will and Lee.
Fighting and combat with Clarisse. Clarisse was ruthless, not letting you rest for a bit, always pushing you to your limits. She had one thing in mind and that was for you to be the best version of yourself. You were progressing fast which she was extremely proud of. Just like Luke said, you were a natural fighter, and everyone noticed that during Capture the Flag. You went from hiding behind Clarisse the whole time from leading the fight.
Archery lessons from Lee. Lee was also very insistent as a teacher. Never letting you rest.
“Hitting a still target is easy, a child could do it,” Lee told you in his first lesson. “But no monster is going to stay still for you to hit it at your pace. So, we’ll practise on moving targets, fast and unpredictable ones.”
And he was right, it was much more difficult. There was no time for you to prepare, and see where the wind went. But after some practice, it was easier. He was a good teacher, after all. You were tired and sore at the end of every day, which seemed a bit excessive for a fun, safe, summer camp for half bloods. They looked like they were preparing you for war at this pace. And when you had some free time, you spent it with Cornelia painting and playing old board games they had in the cabins. It was a great way to relax.
Alongside sharpening your skills, you also spent an absurd amount of time at the infirmary with Will. Michael was the one teaching you everything, with a tiny Will following you there too. He was absorbing information at an incredible pace.
“Isn’t he a bit young to be learning all of this?” you asked Michael.
“Yeah, but he’s good at it, so who cares? Surely not Mr D.”
Will was a really nice kid, and obviously a natural healer. With the two of you at the infirmary, Michael was able to leave for longer periods of time. Will and you often held karaoke afternoons while cleaning the infirmary. And this time, it was your turn to choose the song. So, You and Will were dueting ‘august’ by Taylor Swift when someone came in.
“But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all "Meet me behind the mall" Remember–” you sang with Will.
“You’re having fun here,” Clarisse leaned on the doorframe.
You screamed, and turned around.
“Clarisse! Hi,” Will waved.
She gave you a questioning look. They had never met.
“This is Will Solace, my brother,” you smiled.
“Yeah, y/n talks about you all the time!” Will smile proudly, before you shoved him aside.
“Betrayal, I said all of these things in confidence, but whatever,” you dragged him outside. “Go grab some more supplies, we’re missing ambrosia.”
“But it’s ful–.”
You slammed the door.
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” you laughed, turning back to Clarisse.
“Sure,” she smirked.
“What are you doing here anyway?”
“I forgot to give you something.”
“A gift?” you beamed.
She took out a small tissue bag from her pocket and handed it to you. You opened it, and let the object slip into your palm. A ring.
“Are you proposing?” you joked.
She rolled her eyes, and smiled.
“I watched you pick this size when choosing yours, so you shouldn’t lose this one.”
“Thank you, it’s so pretty I love it!” you put it on your left index.
Clarisse had the one you gave her on her necklace.
“Great, don’t lose it.”
“I won’t!”
And just like that – in the blink of an eye – summer was over, and it was time for you to leave camp and go back home. You knew it was time to leave when Mr D started yelling that those who weren’t staying for the year to leave immediately because he had enough of seeing you bunch. When you walked away from your cabin, you noticed Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance of camp.
“I guess this is goodbye,” she smiled.
“Until October, for the field trip,” you corrected her. “I talked to Mr D and he said it was ok for me to come. So really it’s only two months away! And I’ll send letters, I’m sure Hermes Express have those next day delivery types of… offers?”
“Sure.”
You fiddled with your fingers.
“I’m going to miss you,” you admitted. “And I’ll miss Capture the Flag and being on your team, and I’ll miss sparing with you, and I’ll miss… seeing you everyday.”
Her eyes softened.
“Only two months, like you said.”
You nodded. Then, hesitantly, you opened your arms.
“What?” Clarisse frowned.
“We should hug goodbye.”
She had her arms crossed, but then she uncrossed them and you went to wrap your arms around her torso. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around your shoulders. When her arms loosened, you let go.
“I’ll see you soon Clarisse,” you squeezed her arm, before walking away.
“See you soon sunshine,” Clarisse watched you walk away, “I’ll miss you too,” but you were already too far away to hear it.
Once you were back home, the first thing you did was to go find your mom’s old walkerman. You had to go search the old boxes your mom had put away in the attic – it was difficult but worth it.
“Why do you need this?” your mother asked once you came out of the attic with her walkerman.
“It’s for— my friend?”
“Clarisse?”
“Yes. Clarisse.”
When you told your mother about your summer at camp, it had included a lot of Clarisse related stories.
“And I told her I’d send letters so we could keep in touch, but now I realise I can’t write for the life of me, and even if I did write something, she’s spent too much time trying to decipher what I wrote, and it's just not– good. So I thought I’d send her this,” you waved the walkerman, “and I’d buy empty cassettes to record things, and send pictures along with it.”
“Oh, that’s a very nice thing to do,” she nodded.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you– to ask you really. Hm, there is this field trip at camp… in october. It’d be during the halloween vacations, so I won’t miss school. Can I go, please?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not.”
Well that was easy.
So every week, you’d record what you did and update Clarisse about your life, you’d take pictures and buy her favourite snacks — you tried out a lot during your date — and ship it to camp half-blood. Clarisse would also send you pictures. The dinner, pictures of Will and behind one of his pictures he’d written ‘i miss u <3’ on the back, people training, their win at Capture the Flag, and you’d keep everything in a box dedicated to Clarisse.
Two months. Two months at camp went by fast, too fast even. But two months at school, minus your friends and the fun at camp, it was slow. You woke up every day at 6:45am, got ready and left for school, came back around 5:50pm and did your homework, ate, washed-up, and then scrolled on twitter, fighting with random accounts, and then went to sleep. Your routine was boring to no end, but you tried so you could have things to tell Clarisse. But life outside of camp was boring and your mother could see that.
“You know, if you wanted to stay at camp for the whole year, I wouldn’t stop you.”
Oh.
“But, what about you then? I don’t want you to live alone in this big ass mansion.”
“I’m an adult, I’ll be fine,” she reassured you.
“I won’t, knowing you’ll be alone.”
Your mom wasn’t on good terms with her parents after they learned that she’d be raising a kid alone, without marriage or even a boyfriend. After you were born, they did visit and spent time with you, but never with your mom, their daughter. So she couldn’t even call them to come live with her. You weren’t going to abandon her when she only has you.
“I–,” she put her chopsticks down, “I met someone at work.”
“What! What does that mean?”
“It means, I’ve been seeing someone.”
“Oh my– you’re trying to get rid of me to have—” you stared at her, mouth wide open from shock, “sex,” you mouthed.
“Oh grow up y/n, I’m an adult, where do you think you came from.”
“Uh– rude.”
“I’m just saying, this is your last year in high school, if next year you want to stay at camp, you can.”
“And you’d be fine with it?”
She nodded.
“What if I want to stay here, at home?”
“Then you’d stay here, as long as you want, this is your home as well.”
“I’ll– I’ll think about it.”
And then it was finally time to leave for camp again. Your mom drove you to the airport and you left with your suitcase in hand. It was the longest flight ever, and the cab seemed to be driving even slower than a snail. An old lady on foot was faster than this, but then you were finally there.
“Are you sure this is where you want to get out?” the cab driver asked, seeing the empty road.
“Yes,” you gave him the money, “keep the change, bye.”
When you arrived at camp, Chiron was waiting for you at the entrance already, and you greeted him happily.
“How was the trip to camp?”
“Great. Long and tiring for sure, but I’m so excited too.”
“Good, we’re going to leave soon, you can go put your things in your cabin first.”
The first one to spot you was Cornelia, and she came running to hug you. And then Will came in very quickly to give you a hug as well.
“I missed you guys so much,” you smiled.
“I wish you were staying here all the time,” Will said. “I’m all alone at the infirmary.”
“You’re leaving him alone?” you gasped at Michael.
“He kicked me out! Said you had a whole system going on there and I wasn’t following it correctly.”
“He also wasn’t doing karaoke afternoons with me,” Will told you.
“How dare he. That’s ‘cause he has no taste.”
“I can hear you,” Michael stood beside you.
“Do you mind? I’m having a private conversation.”
“Yeah do you mind, we’re having a private conversation,” Will repeated.
It felt great to be at camp – it felt safe, familiar and comforting. You put your suitcase beside your bed, and grabbed some chocolate bars from your backpack and put them in your pocket. Will, who stayed by your side, pleaded with his eyes to get one too and you couldn’t resist.
“I’ll give you more later,” you promised him.
You left your cabin with your siblings as it was time to leave camp. Everyone was on their way to the entrance. You looked around, hoping to catch Clarisse, and there she was, way ahead of you. You turned around, facing your siblings and after a brief “see you up there”, you ran off.
Clarisse was talking to her brother, and she looked around for you. She was expecting you to be beside Chiron at the entrance, but you weren't. Maybe you were late? When suddenly, she felt someone jump on her back, and her immediate response was to grab their arm and throw them on the ground.
“Ugh! Motherfucker,” you moaned, laying on the ground, with Clarisse holding down on your arm on the ground.
“What the hell!” Clarisse immediately let go and helped you get up. “Why would you do that?”
“I wanted to surprise you,” you rubbed your arm. “Why would you do that?”
“You jumped on me! Are you ok?” Clarisse worried.
You stared at her, dumbstruck.
“No! I’m not!”
Just when she was about to talk, Chiron called for all the campers to gather around, and you left without giving her the chance to speak. Your whole back was aching, and you tried not to think about it too much, but that was impossible because of Clarisse’s strength. Clarisse tried to grab your arm to slow you down, but you shook her off. Then, Michael and Lee just had to get involved.
“Butt off Clarisse,” Michael squeezed himself between you two. “Didn’t you do enough by crushing y/n to dust? So much for being friends,” he snickered.
“Fuck off Michael unless you want to wake up in the morning missing your front row teeth,” Clarisse spat.
Michael did back away a little, bumping into you.
“How can you be friends with her,” he turned around to look at you.
Clarisse has been wondering the same thing for the past few days. The Apollo cabin and the Ares cabin weren’t known to be friendly with each other. They tolerated each other at best when they were on the same team for Capture the Flag, but that was it. And when you left, she started to wonder about your friendship. Maybe you’d forget about her once you’re back at home. And the first week, all she could think about was when – or if – you’d reach out.
But every Sunday, at 9:00am she’d receive a package with your recording and pictures and candy for your siblings and her. You had never given her any reason to doubt your relationship, but not everyone in your cabin, or at camp, were thinking that way. Michael had been one of those people, always wondering loud and clear about your friendship. So that was Clarisse’s final straw.
She grabbed Michael’s collar, ready to punch him, but Lee tried to calm the situation down.
“Clarisse, please don’t,” Lee grabbed Michael’s hands, “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“He clearly does. He’s been talking about it nonstop for the past few weeks.”
You frowned. You looked at Michael, then Lee and finally at Clarisse. The pure rage in her eyes would make anyone run away, but you stepped up.
“Clarisse,” you put your hands on her arms, “it’s fine, let go please. Chiron is waiting for us.”
She locked her eyes with you, clearly still upset about the situation, and pushed Michael away, but Lee was behind to hold him back.
“Clarisse, what was that about?”
“It’s nothing,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. See you.”
And she walked away, leaving you confused. You turned around, giving a questioning look at your brothers, but Lee only mouthed a ‘I don’t know’ and Michael avoided your gaze. You were ready to argue with them, but Will came running, telling you they were ready to leave.
The trip to the Empire State Building was long, especially with Clarisse ignoring you. You tried talking to Michael, but he was also ignoring you, and suddenly, everyone at camp lost their ability to talk. Annoyed, you went to the back of the bus, where no one was. But then Will came.
“What’s wrong? You look like Clarisse all the time. Frowning and sulking.”
“I’m not!” you relaxed your face. “Also while we're talking about Clarisse, what’s that about how we’re not supposed to be friends?”
Will grimaced, and looked away for a second.
“People have been wondering about how you, sweet and fun Apollo daughter, could be friends with ruthless Clarisse La Rue, Ares daughter. Because the Apollo cabin does not get along with the Ares cabin, like at all.”
“And Clarisse was upset? Over people’s opinions about us?”
“Well…” Will stretched that vowel for far too long. “You know people, and how they love to gossip. And somehow it went from enemy cabins to how there are better friends to have… than Clarisse. And how she’s not… worth it,” he hesitated. “And she only brings you trouble… things like that.”
You were too stunned to give any type of answers.
“Clarisse doesn’t look like someone who cares about those kind of rumours and speculations, but insecurities are created by people’s opinion,” Will said, “that’s what Lee told me when people were talking about me and I started to feel bad.”
“What were people talking about?” you frowned.
“I’m not as good as you all with my archery skills.”
“That’s not–, I mean it doesn’t matter.”
“I know, Lee and Cornelia and Michael and everyone at our cabin was there to tell me that.”
“Okay, and they’re right.”
“I’m saying… maybe Clarisse doesn't have that sort of support system. And maybe she is starting to feel like other people are right.”
“Oh.”
You looked at where Clarisse was sitting, in the middle, sitting next to her sister. It was a four seat table, and her three siblings were all laughing and shouting, but Clarisse wasn’t. She was staring out the window, her arms crossed.
You saw her frown and turned her head in your direction, but when she saw you looking at her, she quickly turned her head to her siblings.
“You should talk to her, and clear things up. Because Clarisse is nice. I like her.”
“Since when? You never talk.”
“Clarisse is nice to me, she always has been since we’ve met that one time,” he admitted. “I think she deserves good friends. Like us.”
“I think so too,” you agreed.
When it was time to get off the bus, everyone rushed out, separating you from Clarisse even further. Well, the talk had to wait.
The trip to the 600th floor took too long. Every cabin went one by one since it couldn’t hold the whole camp at once. The Ares cabin went before the Apollo cabin, but Clarisse stood straight and looked ahead. She had her back turned to you, even once inside the elevator, but at the last minute she turned around and locked eyes with you.
“We’ll talk,” you mouthed clearly.
There was no escaping you. When it was your turn, you stepped in last so you could leave first. It took forever to reach floor 600. And just as you expected, there was no sign of Clarisse. She stayed close to her brothers.
Each cabin had to do a presentation in front of the gods, and it was the worst thing for them and for you all too. Every time they clapped at the end, you knew it wasn’t as a compliment but more as a cheers to being closer to the end.
After that, there was a big feast. The gods watching you eat and burn your food for them – it was weird and you couldn’t keep your eyes off your father. His tanned skin, golden hair, and bright smile.
“Blinding isn’t he,” Lee said.
“Yeah, I should’ve brought my sunglasses. Do you ever talk?”
“Not much. They don’t come just to hang around their kids.”
“He kinda looks like a classmate I’d have if people at my school weren’t all dressed like they just left prison. He looks young.”
“You’ll get used to it eventually,” Lee shrugged.
After dinner, campers just hang around talking, and some of the gods would come and talk to their children. You looked around and spotted the Hermes cabin staying together, far away from the main event, and then you tried to look for Clarisse, but she was nowhere. You turned around and bumped into your father. You quickly stepped away.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
“It’s alright. How have you been? Have you been settling well with everything?” he smiled.
“Um… Yes.”
What more could you say? You weren’t going to start saying the truth to this god that happened to be your father.
“How is your mother?”
“Great,” you nodded, smiling. “She’s been seeing someone you know, after,” you looked at your wrist and pretended there was a watch, “eighteen years of having no one.”
“y/n,” he sighed looking away, “that’s just how things work with us gods. She knew from the start who I was, I told her.”
“It’s fine. I was merely stating a fact.”
Please somebody end this conversation, you prayed.
“Well, well, well,” someone slapped your dad’s shoulder.
“Ares,” your dad greeted him. “This is y/n, my daughter.”
“Ah, the girl my daughter has been seeing.”
Apollo whipped his head around, beaming at you.
“You have a girlfriend?” he held you in his arms. “I’m so proud of you. Way to go, who and where is the lucky girl.”
You stared at him, and then at Ares, mouth wide open in shock.
“I– I don’t! It’s– It’s not!” you stuttered. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Clarisse is my friend, who is a girl indeed. So yeah girl,” you paused, “friend. I haven’t been seeing her, I’ve been seeing her as in, she lives at camp and so did I during the summer!”
“Oh,” he let go of you. “My bad. You could’ve been more clear,” he looked at Ares. “Well I have to go now,” he walked away. “See you soon, y/n.”
Ares didn’t follow your father. He stayed with you, staring at you. Clarisse looked at you the same way when you first arrived at camp.
“I feel like I know you from somewhere,” you admitted.
“Well, I am the war god. They had to have shown you my picture somewhere between those classes they have,” he nodded toward Chiron.
“No, it’s not that,” you frowned.
Meanwhile, Clarisse was talking to Mark when she spotted Apollo leaving in a hurry, and she looked at where he came from. And her eyes spotted you immediately, and then she saw her father standing tall, towering over you.
“Fuck,” she mumbled before leaving the conversation without any notice.
She rushed to where you stood. There was no way she was going to let you alone with her father.
“... on twitter!” you shouted, hiding a smile. “Clarisse, I was just telling your father about us knowing each other through twitter!”
“What?” she mumbled, pulling you closer to her.
“I’m always starting fights with him on twitter, because he’s always talking shit and nonsense. He doesn’t know me though.”
“Wait–,” Ares interrupted. “Are you that fan account of that blonde singer?”
“Yes!” you laughed.
He snickered, then stopped and turned to Clarisse.
“Clarisse.”
“Dad.”
Then he stared at you, before going back to Clarisse.
“You can leave now,” he gave you a brief look. “I want to talk to Clarisse. Alone.”
Clarisse, who the whole time didn’t let go of your hand, squeezed it. Hard. Before letting go. But you didn’t move, slightly worried.
“I–,” you started, but Clarisse turned to you, face blank.
“I’ll find you after this, go.”
You nodded without arguing and left. You quickly spotted your siblings and joined them, listening to what they were saying. You’d glance at Clarisse’s direction, and all you could see was Clarisse nodding, looking at her feet. Ares was in his human form, but even like that he looked impressive. He was tall and broad, he had these eyes you didn’t want to look straight into from fear. He gave Clarisse a final, firm, pat on the shoulder before leaving her there. She stood there for a full minute before straightening her back and searched for you in the ocean of people. But before she could find you, you were already on your way to her.
“Are you okay?” you immediately asked.
“I’m fine.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He…” she hesitated. “It doesn’t matter.”
You stood there, torn between insisting and letting it go. If you insisted when she wasn’t ready to talk, then you’d be a pushy friend who doesn’t respect any boundaries. But if you didn’t, then maybe it’d seem like you didn’t care.
“Okay,” you nodded slowly. “Well, if you don’t have anything more to say, I do.”
“y/n…” Clarisse sighed.
“No! You ignored me the whole day when I just came back for you. And then that thing that happened with Michael,” she rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, “what was that about?”
“It doesn’t—”
“Stop saying that! It does matter. It matters to me how you feel. About this and everything else.”
Clarisse stared at you. Her eyes pleading with you to let it go.
“I just…” you sighed, defeated. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. And I don’t—” you groaned in frustration. “Will told me,” you admitted, “about what people have been saying and what Michael has been saying,” you found it hard to find your words. “I– I want you to know that’s not what I think. And I—.”
You should’ve been rehearsing this. You took a deep breath.
“They’re not right about this. And I don’t want you to think that they are. Because you, Clarisse La Rue, are the best friend anyone could ask for. And because of you, I’m better than ever. I’ve been a better fighter because of you, I’ve been a better friend because of you. You taught me how to stand up for myself, and I’ve just been happier since I’ve met you. So I don’t want you to listen to what people have to say.”
Clarisse still hadn’t said anything, which was excruciating. Just as you were about to continue ranting about this, she pulled you in her arms. You wrapped your arms around her, and put your head on her shoulder.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and let go.
It didn’t last long enough, but you’ll take what she gave you.
“Are we ok?”
“We’re ok,” Clarisse nodded.
The rest of the evening was spent with you sitting on some big rocks that served as chairs, catching up. She’d tell about all the times she won at Capture the Flag, she’d tell you about the indigestion everyone had due to food poisoning that one day, she’d tell you about that time she had to go to the infirmary and only let Will heal her because there was no way she’d let Michael help her. She’d tell you about every little thing you’d miss during those months when you went home, and you listened to everything she had to say, with your head resting on her shoulder.
“Oh gods,” you straightened your back, pointing ahead of you. “Is that your dad with Aphrodite?”
“Fuck,” she cringed. “Are they making out?”
“I mean– he definitely is. It’s weird,” you looked away, then went back to staring at them.
“Stop staring at my dad sucking the goddess of love’s face.”
“Are you sure he’s your dad though? Cause Aphrodite looks exactly like you.”
Clarisse whipped her head around, eyes wide, staring at you.
“What?” she breathed.
“What, what?”
She paused, still staring at you.
“Nothing,” she smiled, and then looked back, “they’re gone.”
“Finally. It’s gross to make out in front of your children like that.”
All the campers spent the night in Olympus, all sleeping in the same area. The room looked exactly like inside a normal cabin at camp, with bunk beds and cupboards, and for once, friends from different cabins were allowed to sleep together. You dragged Clarisse with you, where the Apollo cabin stayed.
“We’re all used to staying together,” you explained, “but you can stay with me. Are you sleeping on the top bunk or bottom one?”
“Bottom one,” Clarisse sat on the bed.
“Ooh,” Cornelia sat next to Clarisse,” so does y/n.”
“It’s fine, it’s only for one night,” you waved it off.
“Did you see Clarisse’s dad making out in the open with their mother,” Cornelia pointed at the Aphrodite children.
“We did!” you squealed, squeezing yourself between the two of them.
“I think everyone did,” Clarisse added.
“Did you notice how Aphrodite looked exactly like Clarisse,” you looked at Cornelia.
Her eyes widened, and shook her head slightly. Clarisse was leaning against the bed frame, her legs crossed on the bed, smirking. You frowned.
“What?” you mouthed.
“We’ll come back”, Cornelia dragged you away.
“What?”
“Do you know what it means to perceive Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, passion and lust, as someone you know?” she asked.
“As someone I know? What does that mean?”
“Aphrodite doesn’t look like Clarisse,” she explained, “you perceive the goddess as such because you think Clarisse is those things.”
“Oh,” you paused. “Is that common knowledge or?”
You hoped not.
“Yeah it is, so you probably shouldn’t say those things in front of Clarisse if you’re not…”
“If I’m not what?”
“Nevermind.”
“I already told her, twice now with what happened a few minutes ago. Oh gods, couldn’t you have taught me this earlier!” you panicked. “What–What does that mean though? Do I– Am I—,” you gave a quick glance at Clarisse.
“I don’t know! I mean, you did ask her on a date like the first week you arrived at camp, what could that mean?”
“I don’t know? I think she’s pretty, and– and apparently I think she could look exactly like the goddess of love herself. It’s—,” you took a deep breath.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to know.”
“I think,” you hesitated. “I don’t know!” you whined. “Clarisse is nice to me, she’s fun to be around, she’s pushing me upwards and I think I might– maybe– perhaps have a tiny crush on her, yes,” you admitted.
“Aw,” she beamed, “I think you’d make such a cute couple.”
“Calm your tits down,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “I don’t know if this will ever go further than us being friends. Now look natural, and never tell anyone else this. Okay, let’s go back.”
Clarisse was talking to Will when you two came back, but they abruptly stopped. Will stood so Cornelia and you could sit.
“What was that about?” Cornelia asked them.
“It’s a secret,” Will smiled.
“We were talking about how sunshine over there thought I looked like a goddess,” Clarisse grinned.
Will tried to hide his laugh.
“No one told me!” you hid your face in your hand from embarrassment. “You could’ve stopped me the first time I said it,” you accused Clarisse, who was still laughing.
“The first?” Will interrupted.
“Both times in front of Clarisse,” Cornelia added. “It was hard to watch,” she teased you.
Time went by very fast when you’re surrounded by friends and family, because it was already time to go to sleep. The lights disappeared, and you climbed onto your bed, and whispered Clarisse a goodnight before closing your eyes.
The silence was deafening. You couldn’t fall asleep, you needed white noises, music, anything but this. You tossed around, left your right leg outside the blanket, but then it was too cold, so you put it back inside, and tossed around again.
“What the hell y/n,” Clarisse whispered loudly.
“Sorry, I can’t fall asleep.”
“Why?” she sighed.
“It’s too quiet, and I’m cold.”
Clarisse let out a bigger sigh, before getting up.
“Where’re you going?” you sat up.
“Get down here, and bring your blanket.”
You did as she told you. You put the blanket on your shoulders and climbed down.
“Get in the bed,” she pointed at hers.
You did as she told you. And then she climbed back inside her bed, next to you, with both blankets on you. The beds on Olympus were bigger than the ones at camp, so it was no problem to fit you two in one single bed.
“Better?”
“Yes,” you nodded.
Clarisse fell asleep very quickly, like always. As soon as she closed her eyes, she was gone. But it took more time with you, you were used to looking at your phone until your eyelids were too tired to stay open, but now you couldn’t. You had nothing, only Clarisse sleeping peacefully next to you.
She slept on her back, with her head tilted toward you. Unlike her, you slept on your side, so you turned your back to her, and closed your eyes. And just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt Clarisse arms wrapping around you to bring you closer to her. And then, in an instant, you were gone.
The happiness from staying at camp didn’t last long as it was already time to go home and say goodbye to everyone. Your holidays came to an end and so did your stay at camp, and just like last time, Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance.
“So,” you started, ‘I guess we’ll see each other next summer?”
“Yea,” she nodded. “Next summer.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you promised, “and I’ll keep sending you updates, though I don’t know if I’ll continue to be as regular as before. I do have my high school diploma to get, and I’ll have less time but I’ll do my best!”
“It’s okay, good luck on your exams. I know you’ll do great.”
“Thanks,” you smiled, but still didn’t leave.
It was too soon, and it felt like you barely spent any time with Clarisse and your siblings.
“Did you say goodbye to Will and the others?” Clarisse asked.
“Yea, before I left the cabin I did. It sucks that I have to, but–,” you hesitated, “maybe I won’t have to next year.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“I don’t know yet, but… it’s a possibility.”
“Oh,” she smiled, “okay.”
“Okay. Well… I have to go now.”
“Okay.”
You two stood there, without moving. But then you lunged forward and hugged her tightly.
“I’ll miss you,” you whispered.
And you let go, and left before she could give you her answer.
One recording per week became one every other week, and by December, it was only one per month. Clarisse didn’t send anything from December to February either, but then on a random day in March, you received a package from Hermes Express with Clarisse’s usual pictures from camp, without any notes explaining what happened those last few months. You didn’t mention it either, but you gave yourself a quick reminder to ask her when you’d be back at camp.
“It’s almost time, are you ready?” your mom asked.
“Yep, a minute!”
Your exams were done, you didn’t have the results yet but that didn’t matter – your mom promised she’d send them to you once she’d receive them so you could leave for camp peacefully. You packed lightly – a third of your belongings were already at camp – and went inside the cab your mom had called for you.
“Be careful okay,” she kissed your temple. “And write to me about your decision, okay?”
“I will, I promise,” you gave her a last quick hug and closed the cab door.
The journey to camp felt familiar now, you’d done it a few times already so it was a stress free trip. So you kept your suitcase close to you, you turned your phone off, and walked.
But something was off when you got closer to the entrance. It was loud. Louder than usual, and there were more people at the border everywhere as well, which were usually empty. You crossed the entrance, and most campers were wearing their gears, and weapons.
“What the hell,” you whispered.
You quickly noticed Clarisse, giving orders to campers, and walking around. When she turned around, she spotted you and ran to you, very quickly.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier when you were going to be here!” she shot.
“I wanted to surprise you! Why are you yelling at me!” you shouted back.
Clarisse stepped back and mouthed a quick apology.
“A lot of things happened while you were gone,” she explained.
“Like when you stopped sending me anything?”
She nodded reluctantly.
“A new camper came in, got claimed by Poseidon, and then got his quest to retrieve Zeus’ stolen bolt, and…” she hesitated. “We know who stole it in the first place. Luke.”
“Luke?” your eyes widened. “As in Castellan, Hermes' head– former head counsellor?”
She nodded again.
“And now Thalia’s tree has been poisoned, meaning the camp’s borders are weakened and we have to keep them safe ourselves.”
“Okay,” you proceeded with this information as fast as you could. “Okay.”
“I was worried sick for the past few days! You didn’t send me anything like last time. I didn’t know when you were going to be here, or if you’d gotten attacked and died.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier!” you argued.
“I–,” she hesitated, “I didn’t want to burden you with your studies.”
“They’re not important, this is obviously my priority and much more important.”
“Okay,” she looked around. “Stay beside me, I want to keep an eye on you whenever a battle is going to break out.”
You frowned.
“That’s cute, but I’d be much more useful if I stayed with the rest of the Apollo cabin where we’re needed. I’m a great fighter, I know,” you said before she could interrupt, “thanks to you, but I’m much better at archery.”
She stared at you, then looked down.
“I can’t…” she whispered, “I can’t protect you if you’re this far away from me.”
“Clarisse,” you cupped her face. “I’ll be fine, I promise. You worry about staying alive, and I’ll do the same. It’s going to be fine. Remember, you taught me everything I know.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“Okay.”
“Where’s your spear by the way?” you asked when she walked you to your cabin.
She grimaced, and sighed.
“Gone.”
“Gone? Wha–.”
“Percy Jackson,” she spat. “The new kid, I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough.”
You threw your stuff inside your cabin, and changed your clothes before walking out with Clarisse still outside, waiting for you. Clarisse was about to talk, but was interrupted by screams from campers at the entrance.
You looked at each other and ran off to where the screams were, and saw it. Two immense bulls – colchis Bulls – coming straight towards campers.
“Go find Lee, I’ll handle this from here. He’ll know what to do,” Clarisse ordered before walking away.
“Clarisse!” you shouted before she was out of range. She turned her head. “Be careful.”
She nodded.
“Don’t die,” she added before leaving.
#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue fanfic#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue pjo#clarisse la rue x you#clarisse la rue imagine#clarisse la rue
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König mistakenly shoots you on the battlefield
König x Gender-neutral Reader
Word count: ~4500
*SLOW burn but when my writing finally has that spark this fic catches FIRE and FAST so be prepared!! 🔥🔥
*⚠️Angst Angst! ANGST!⚠️
*THABK YOU SO SO SO MUCH TO AZZY MY NO.1 FAN FOR THIS AMAZING IDEA!!!! 🥰🥰🥰I LOVE *YOU* VERY MUCH!! 🥹🫶🫶💞💞💞💞 💞💞💞💞💞THANK UVFOR ALWAUS LIKING MYNPOSTS AND BEING SO KIND TO ME YOU MAKE EBERY HOIR SPENT WRITING WORTH IT AS I AM ALWAYS EAGER FOR YOUR MESSAGES😭😭💓💓💓💓💓💓I AM *YOUR* NO.1 APPRECIATOR IN ALL RHE GALAXIES🌌🚀✨🌠QNDVWISH U ALL THE BEST ALWAYS!!!!!!🫂🫂💗💗 THIS ENTJRE POST IS DEDICATED TO YOU !!! 🥹(,,havinf said that, i hope u arent TOO taken aback bu tje level of angst here 💀💀REALLT went overboard and I completely apologize 💔)
TWs: König is in love with you. König's sanity slowly deteriorates as the fanfiction progresses. Mentions of attempted suicide, graphic depictions of gore, potentially triggering depictions of depression. König has suicidal thoughts after shooting you. König experiences intense trauma after shooting you and has survivor's guilt.
*Reader's callsign is "King". Implied age gap. One-sided pining from König... but the ending is purposefully kept ambigous (as you, the reader, can interpret the final interaction however you like)! Can be read as a standalone if you have never read any of my works before. <3
*To clarify to those that have already read my works before, this is *NOT* a direct continuation to 1.my fluffy 2.series! This is a separate imagine, but DOES take place in the same KönigxKing microchosm. Whether the following events take place in an alternate timeline or happen at some point in the future/past is for you to decide. Idk man i just write the fics I don't do the world buidling 🗿I write sotires without thingign about the greater picture u honestly think my one shots will tie to a greater plot?☹️No 💔
...
Right from the beginning, König had a gut feeling that this mission was going to go wrong.
It was a deep sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach, making him feel queasy on the helicopter ride as the both of you with an additional three others were scheduled for contact in a few minutes' time.
You were just a recruit, and this mission was far too intense for someone with next to no experience in an active warzone for it to be their first. He knew the dangers of missions like this, knew how things could go horribly wrong in an instant.
It wasn't that he doubted your ability. Not at all. From the corner of the room he would silently supervise as you sparred another person, monitoring your movements incase your opponent had the upperhand and you needed guidance.
However, he had never needed to intervene, as he was impressed with your quick reactions and your controlled steps as you'd move on the balls of your feet, arms held up in front of your face. Ambition was in your eyes, your face scrunched up in concentration as you calculated your next move.
You'd defend yourself up until the moment you'd pounce and in a blink of an eye be on top of your opponent, your entire weight pressed on their theirs on the ground. Whether it was another woman, another man, or even a person with bigger bulk you were clearly disadvantaged by, you'd never give up, and took on any challenge with an impressionable passion of a young recruit.
Once they'd be the one to tap out, you'd immediately push yourself off them and offer them a hand, asking them "Are you alright?" in a concerned tone as you were pulling them up. "Sorry for getting aggressive there, sir/miss! I hope I didn't hurt you!"
To which they'd respond with boisterous laughter and a strong clap on your back, you doubled over as they were congratulating you for knocking them off their two feet and telling you to keep up the good work. König couldn't wipe the triumphant smile from his face, filled with pride at your personal victory.
Once you'd be the one to tap out, you'd part ways honourably, never disrespecting the person that came out on top. If anything, your loss only added fuel to the fire burning in your eyes, driven to work harder. He still admired you, and would be the one to pull you up as he dusted you off, telling you that you did a great job regardless.
"Thank you, sir!" You'd reply bashfully, face red from effort and embarassment. "Though, I'm sure I made a fool of myself with how I was flailing my arms just then..."
"Nein. Not at all," he'd say, eyes glinting with something that you couldn't quite recognize. "You did very well."
Target practice displayed your accurate aim, wool seeping out from the heads of dummies and the targets regularly replaced as the wood would cling in pieces, the center blasted into smithereens by repeated bullseyes from you.
Always lingering nearby to assist, you would gratefully accept König's help and allow him to demonstrate how to operate another gun with an appreciative smile on your face, your genuine eagerness to learn making König's chest tighten. You seemingly never knew the effect you had on him.
You were a naturally skilled soldier, he had observed, and he knew that you'd make an incredible addition to the team, he couldn't deny that.
Yet, he couldn't shake off this feeling as something more grave.
All personel debriefed and the plan disclosed a week prior, the superior went over the plan once more back at base. A large blueprint spilling over the table with weak spots and areas to beware were annotated, his forefinger pointing at different areas of interest. Sketches, photographs, and jottings were displayed from a projector for all to see as you listened closely.
König's jaws were grinding against each other in agitation, having doubts about you being deployed on this mission.
Despite this operation being portayed as an in and out extraction, König knew better. He knew what the stakes were. Intuition urged him to warn you, to confide in you about his doubts and even considered crossing your name off the list and assigning you elsewhere last minute without anyone knowing.
But the thought that he could be controlling you — a young, innocent recruit — and even considered doing something so foul didn't sit right with him.
You were your own person, and he couldn't be your shadow, couldn't act as a human shield against all that was cruel and gruesome in life. You had chosen this job, and therefore must have had at least some idea of what your responsibilities would entail, some knowledge of what soldiers go through in pursuit of glory.
Instead of being so pertubed, he should keep it together, he thought, should maintain a stoic façade. He was your superior — your colonel, for God's sake — he was someone you aspired to be, someone that should be an inspiration, a role model, someone that could have your back and be a reliable body to fall back on.
Not someone that couldn't keep it together when you around.
Especially when he shouldn't have been having feelings for you.
You, a young person vulnerable and easily influenced by people older than you, by the likes of him.
It wasn't right. He wasn't right for what he was feeling, for what he had been thinking. It wasn't right for his feelings to cloud his judgement, wasn't right that abusing his power had even crossed his mind, let alone been tempted to act upon it.
Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. "König? Are you alright, sir?"
Turning his head to face you, he nodded with false certainty, containing his worry in an attempt to appear confident for you.
"Ja, King, it's okay. Just thinking, that's all."
You quirked a brow, not convinced. "Hey."
Placing a firm hand on his shoulder, a serious expression was on your face, which caught König off guard and made his eyes widen. "If you're thinking that I'm going to get myself killed then you've got another thing coming, because I will NOT get shot by the enemy."
His back slumped over a little, averting his gaze for a moment. "Nein, sie haben recht."
"Ich sollte nicht zulassen, dass meine Gefühle mein Urteilsvermögen trüben." König mumbled something else under his breath in German, then quickly shook his head and laughed, looking into your eyes again.
Tension in his body was eased a little. "No, you're right."
A little. Because he wasn't going to dismiss the thoughts gnawing at the back of his head as mere paranoia.
You perked up. "Good, glad we've got that cleared up, sir! I want you to know that I won't disappoint!"
His heart skipped a beat at your smile, so eager to please and make him proud, that he shuffled uncomfortably, trying to get the butterflies in his stomach to calm down. Now wasn't the time.
Idly fidgeting with his combat knife as the helicopter blades hummed above, he went back to thinking over all the possibilities and different ways this mission could go awry:
...What if these were the wrong coordinates, or the helicopter would be attacked the minute they landed? The thought of an ambush wasn't an irrational one — it had happened before, he reminded himself — so he had brought a few more weapon crates than necessary for safekeeping.
...What if the helicopter's signal was intercepted and everyone including the pilot were destined for a fatal crash? Counting the number of parachutes and noting the fire exit, he could rest a little easier if an emergency like that was to arise, yet it still did little to soothe his nerves.
...What if you really did get shot? In case that happened, he had alerted some operators beforehand to serve as re-enforcements, one of those on board including a skilled army medic, under the guise of needing more manpower in case things went south. After all, this extraction could not have go wrong. It shouldn't have gone wrong.
But... what if you died? König wouldn't know how to deal with the feelings associated with your death, knowing that he had loved you from afar yet never acted on it. At least he'd be able to keep his shameful secret a secret, and you'd pass away never knowing what he truly saw you as, truly thought of you.
He had little time to figure out what was causing the trepidation to stiffen his muscles as the helicopter suddenly swerved and lowered, landing kilometres away from the designated building yet on unstable ground nonetheless. Any moment soldiers could attack it if they had known the group's location, so the blades kept spinning and the engine kept running for an immediate getaway.
König assumed authority. "Everyone remember the plan?"
Four heads nodded in sync.
"Gut. Then you all know what to do. I will enter from the side with my Lieutenant—" he said, gesturing with his head at a masked operator beside you, "—while you three—" referring to you and two others you were only vaguely aquainted with, "—storm from the back. Ja?"
König's eyes stalled on you for a moment longer than necessary. You were going to be alright, he told himself. He'd keep you in his field of vision and could provide you with cover once you regrouped when you'd really need it.
"A quick extraction," he reminded, eyes stern yet heart disbelieving. "Simply go in, get the data, and go out."
A final nod of the head from König as he and his associate separated from your group. You headed towards the back of the building, fully alert, aiming behind corner incase there had been someone waiting to assassinate you.
Doors creaking as one of the men pushed, the three of you filtered in noiselessly, attempting to be as discreet as possible and wincing when the door slammed not so quietly. Guns cocked and silencers attached, you advanced in a line, blending in to the shadows.
As you walked, there were no signs of life, and the storehouse seemed abandoned. No machinery was being operate. No voices could be heard.
All was still and quiet.
Eerily quiet.
Feeling the hairs on your arms and neck stand on end, you shuddered. You made eye contact with one of the men in front of you who had more expertise, and he looked on edge, eyebrows creased in focus under his balaclava. None of this felt right.
Suddenly, something small rolled over towards you all. Blinking once, twice, you let out a panicked scream and dived for cover.
"Grenade!"
All hell broke loose.
Bullets ricocheted over your head, guns blasting from so many directions you couldn't pinpoint their source.
Slowly recovering from your momentary shock, you gripped your rifle tight and started shooting back, hidden behind a load of wooden crates. When you saw your hooded colonel crouching in a corner, you relaxed. With an encouraging nod from him, that was all you needed to go change positions, and you lunged forward. All was going smoothly at that point.
So engrossed in eliminating the threats in front of him, however, König only came to the realisation that you weren't there when he didn't see your figure in his peripheral vision.
Panic consumed his senses and circulated through his veins. All at once, he was frantically scanning the immediate area, searching for any trace of you.
You were thrashing and kicking as you were being pulled by rough hands, your fingers reaching for your holster through gritted teeth, yet it was just out of grasp. You were thrown harshly against the wall, and the enemy towered over you, feeling high from his power trip and excited to exert authority he had never had up to now.
Just as a knife made its way to your throat, your hand finally found your side arm and shot a bullet between his eyes, body falling on top of you like a sack of potatoes.
You convulsed involuntarily, hyperventilating under his weight and the sudden situation. Noting your surroundings, your heart sank.
You were in no man's land, full view of soldiers shooting at your team. The extraction point was just in sight, exactly how and where it was illustrated on the blueprint.
So far, no one had noticed you, too preoccupied aiming down their sights to see you shuffling under a corpse. You could enter those headquarters right now, could be proclaimed a hero of this story, and make your colonel proud and finish before schedule.
The risk was too big. You were bound to get shot.
Yet, against all better judgement, you dashed for the entrance, taking advantage of the element of surprise as three men turned towards you with wide eyes, not expecting to see you enter. Two were haphazardly shoving papers into a half-open folder thrown on the table.
Three shots fired before they could scramble for a gun, you rushed towards the desk. Scanning the material, your eyes widened in shock. This was it.
Now, your only choice was to crawl back into the line of fire. Soldiers still kept shooting with their backs turned, endless ammunition right at their disposal.
You were totally helpless on your own. Just one pair of wandering eyes from the enemy and just one shot in the back of the head would be all that would take to end your life at that moment and make all of your efforts go to waste.
Although an atheist, you mouthed a silent prayer, before taking a deep breath, and sprinted.
Seeing sudden movement headed towards him, König acted on instinct, and pulled the trigger on you.
His heart stopped.
Time slowed as your body fell in slow motion, more bullets piercing through your gear.
Realising his mistake immediately, he almost vomited his own stomach out at seeing you fall lifelessly on the ground, eyes wide and body dropping on impact.
"Scheisse, cover me, verdammt!" He yelled over his shoulder, all rational thought ceasing.
Breathing rapid and strained, he rushed towards you, gently wrapping his arms around your body — growing weaker by the minute — and headed straight for the first sign of cover he could see. Behind unstable and temporary refuge that could be blown to pieces, König was at a loss at what to do.
He had expected everything, evaluated every possible scenario, every possible outcome, even prepared a lifeline for you on the off-chance that you'd be injured in action.
Yet he hadn't anticipated that he would be the one to shoot you. Never.
Shaking violently, König could barely get any words out. "—S-schatz, please please please—"
Hesistant hands hovered over your wounds, conflicted, as blood was staining your uniform, wrenching König's heart. His mind kept repeating you did this. You did this. You did this.
You needed urgent aid, and you needed it right now, yet he didn't deserve to touch you, his hands clenched into fists as he didn't want to break you further, treating you like fragile glass that could shatter into pieces under his touch if he so held you.
He was the one that did this to you. You, the young recruit he was so hopelessly infatuated with, a person who he had cherished and loved from afar, the person who made him feel good things for the first time ever in his life.
He did this to you.
He was the monster in your closet, the threat that König had desperately attempted protect you from all this time, the threat that you were told to eliminate on this mission. The enemy.
The enemy that had mistakenly shot you.
"Es tut mir so leid, I'm so sorry—" König's mind couldn't function properly, speaking in broken mix of English and German. He couldn't gather his thoughts, couldn't think.
"—I'm so so so sorry. Please don't die, bitte vergib mir, forgive me, forgive me, schatz. Forgive me. Ich liebe dich, schatz, do you hear me? I love you."
Bullets whizzed past you both relentlessly, both of you still caught in crossfire. König's lips were moving yet you couldn't hear what he was saying to you, couldn't feel anything as you slowly lost consciousness, slowly closed your eyes.
A calloused hand tapped your face in desperation, your vision blurred.
"—Nein, nein, King! Stay awake! I'm calling for the re-enforcements now! Please, don't die on me— I'm so sorry..."
Shaky yelling through the walkie-talkie, voice cracking. "This is your colonel, König! We're retreating right now! One of ours is wounded! Send the re-enforcements right now to this location! I repeat, we are retreating! I am calling this mission off!"
"What? Are you crazy, König?!" A break in character from the commander, before immediately assuming professionalism once more. "Proceed with the mission! You are on the verge of breaking their defenses! You will enter their headquarters and be able to—"
"Nein. That was an order, commander," he hissed through gritted teeth, nearly crushing the device in his death-grip. "We are retreating. I am calling this mission off."
A pause. Then: "Copy that, colonel. We are sending your re-enforcements to cover you as you exit. Your helicopter is waiting. Hold out for thirty seconds longer."
Sighing with relief, he suddenly thought his heart stopped beating when he saw you laying there motionlessly, eyes closed. Desperately tapping at your cheek did nothing to awaken you. He prayed that you'd survive, willing time to go faster.
At last, loud whirring from above gave him the only comfort. Not waiting a second longer, König picked up your limp body and dashed outside, the helicopter lifting off as the rest of the crew threw themselves inside.
Opening your vest to inspect your wounds, he saw a blood-soakes folder secured tightly to your chest.
It was the data. You risked your life for the mission. You risked everything to accomplish the task and he had shot you anyways.
"—This is your colonel, König. We have the data. Mission accomplished, I repeat, mission accomplished. King has the data."
The radio crackled with an indistinguishable response, yet König heard nothing, blood rushing to his head and ringing persisting. Medics wasted no time to wheel you into an operating room, tearing your limp body away from his arms. He avoided the celebrations and cheers for their colonel, leaving everyone dumbfounded at his reaction. Shouldn't have he been proud? The mission was a success!
Yet the mission wasn't a success, and if anything, he felt shame. No one knew why their colonel holed himself up in his room aside from himself.
The news of you in critical condition in the hospital broke König.
As much as he wanted to see you, to check on your health and be the one to see your first signs of recovery, he couldn't. He couldn't bear to witness the colour drained from your face as you laid unmoving on the bed, the slow beeping from the heart rate monitor machine the only indication that you were alive.
He just couldn't. Not when he caused this. Not when he fucked up this much.
Using the gym as a coping mechanism for a while, he trained harder and more often than ever before, only wishing to make the pain go away. When he wasn't at the gym all throughout the day or at odd hours of the night, he'd toss and turn in his bed, having nightmares about your body bleeding out below him as the shot relentlessly echoed in his head. Or worse, he'd imagine himself shooting you again, only this time he'd find the barrel of his gun was aimed at your forehead execution-style, your unassuming face suddenly exploding into bloody pieces and what was left of your bewildered expression still remained even after he had pulled the trigger.
At those, König would spring upright, screaming "No!" in anguish.
He'd be panting heavily, bedsheets drenched in his own sweat and feeling like he was suffocating with each rise and fall of his chest. When the situation sunk in, he'd clench his fists so tightly his knuckles went white, shaken to his very core. On those nights, König wanted nothing more than to hurt himself, to compensate for the injury he inflicted upon you and how he had completely disgraced you.
At one point, when he had finally had enough, in his blind craze snatched the pistol laying by his bed, flicked the safety off and aimed it at the same place he had shot you, just to break down in despair when no bullet came out, the clip hidden in his bedside drawer.
Hand tightly squeezing his heart through his soaked t-shirt, he was repulsed by the fact that he was completely healthy and could walk freely while you lay injured and dying.
Under his watch, you had been injured. Under him, your body had crumpled. And it was his fault.
In emotional turmoil, he soon lost all ability to function. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and could hardly find the motivation to get out of bed most of the time, convinced that he had killed you, convinced that he was a monster. Responsibilities were kept on hold, the next best person taking his place. No one questioned the new arrangement, despite the shared confusion from everyone on base.
He couldn't take this. He couldn't take this any longer. He would have rather died, sacrificed himself in any way possible if it meant that you could live another day, as you could make a greater impact on the world than he ever could. Could be a better person than he ever could.
It was his fault. He shot you. He had shot you. He had shot the recruit that he had hopelessly fallen in love with, yet only he himself was to blame for it for his lack of control, for his inability to be unaffected by his feelings.
One day, a knock on his door pulled him out from his trance.
Prior to the interruption, König was staring at the cement wall, his eyes unfocused, completely still and barely breathing. He wasn't himself.
Immediately straightening his legs and nearly tearing a tendon from how fast he got up despite having been so inactive for the last few days, he stomped quickly towards the door, his face glum yet eyes glinting with the merest hint of hope.
Hand reaching for the handle, he had readied himself, expecting bad news coming from a surgeon wearing a medical mask and a blue uniform, a solemn expression as they devasted him with your passing.
All but the latter was true.
"Colonel König, sir. The patient is awake. You may now visit them if you so wish."
Blinking a couple of times, König thought he had heard incorrectly.
"...P...Pardon?"
Repeated were the words that König was shocked to hear.
"King is awake, sir. Their condition is a stable one. Our team thought to notify you first since you were on the mission with them."
Gasping, König could barely breathe. He felt like he was drowning, drowning despite his head breaking out from the water. "What... I... where?"
"Ground floor, room twelve. They're on medication as of this moment yet are fully awake."
König nearly fell to his knees. You were alive!
You were alive! He hadn't killed you! He thanked the Gods, and could barely keep composed, barely able to stop himself from dashing to the center of base and yelling into the sky in pure joy.
"I— thank you... so much."
Running faster than he had ever ran in his whole life, he was at your door in minutes.
Yet, as his fingers reached for the door knob, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, hand poised mid-air.
What if you didn't want to see him after the whole ordeal?
What if you resented him, and would spit in his face the moment he walked in?
What if you hated him, and wanted nothing to do with him ever again?
Hesistantly knocking twice, he nearly had a heart attack when your voice broke through the door:
"Come in," you called simply; your voice was hoarse, but it was clearly still you.
Taking a deep breath, König pushed the door open.
There you were. He was having heart palpitations at seeing you awake and looking at him.
The light coming through the open curtains made your skin glow despite how pale you were, eyes sparkling and crinkling in happiness despite the dark circles and heavy bags under your eyes, hair splayed out behind on your pillow, resembling a halo, despite how greasy it was.
He had missed you. So much.
Then his heart sunk as he reminded himself that he was the reason for why you were here, why you were in in this state to begin with.
Seeing König, You shot him a daring smirk despite how numb your face felt. "Hey, König, sir. Did you visit me at all? I'm sure you missed me."
Waiting in anticipation, you kept looking at him excitedly. At the lack of response and his refusal to meet your gaze, it faded completely. "—Wh—what? You—"
"Not— not even once? Not—"
Tears were welling up in your eyes. "—you didn't come see me even one time?"
Maybe you shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Maybe you should have thought that König would not have time to spare in his busy schedule.
Yet you couldn't not get your hopes up when as soon as you woke, your first thought was of König. Although the grim reality hit you hard like a bucket of cold water dumped over your head, you still wished to see him.
And yet, he hadn't wished to see you at all. He had avoided you like the plague.
"Scheisse—"
König started pacing the room, head hung low as he weighed the pros and cons. Indecision.
"—Do you really... do you really want to know why I didn't visit you, King?"
You nodded meekly, lip quivering.
He finally made up his mind.
If you rejected him, at least he'd rest easier knowing that you'd live, and continue to be happy for you from afar. He'd still support you, still be your colonel, still love you even when you found someone else.
"I... I put you in this position, King... It was all my fault," he begun, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tone softed as he finally stopped, as still as a statue, a metre away. From this angle, you saw how bloodshot his eyes were, how they sagged in sadness, how dark circles had formed from lack of sleep. His pale blue eyes were dull, glued to the ground.
"Not only did I lose sight of you on the battlefield, I also shot you. Shot my own—" Pausing, not knowing how to refer to you.
He carried on. "I couldn't live with myself. I still can't live with myself. I'm walking, uninjured, as you are laying in bed, recovering from an injury that I am the reason for. From bullet wounds that were the result of me."
Voice hitching slightly, he tried to keep his breathing under control. But he couldn't.
"How could the monster that shot you enter your room and dare to look at you? How could I watch you cling to life, while I walk freely despite causing you this— this agony? What right do I have looking at you after putting you here?"
You allowed the tears to spill down your cheeks.
He stopped, eyelids drooping, finally meeting your eyes.
"I have feelings for you, King, I—" Trembling "—I do. But... I shouldn't be feeling this way. You have your whole life ahead of you and I—"
"—I've... aged... I'm not the same man I was before. I've witnessed things far too disturbing to ever share with you. I... I know that you should be with someone better and I—"
Although still in a daze and sedated by the drugs, your thought process was still clear enough where you could be sure about this.
Reaching with a tentative hand for König's larger and rougher one, you squeezed it weakly, looking up at him with a heartfelt expression.
König smiled for the first time in ages.
Through that gesture alone, König knew that you forgave him.
He allowed his breathing to stabilise, wanting nothing more than to start over with you.
...
Note: MY FAT FUCIIJF FINGERS SLIPPED AND I POSTED THIS EARLIER THANI WAS SUPPOSED TO OJ MY GOD I AM AN IDIOT 🤡🤡
Edit next day: how tmdid this fet 100+ notes im sobbing 😭😭. thabk you everyone for readijg this angst fest!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️
#aking10592_ ≛彡#könig#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig mw2#konig mw2#könig modern warfare#könig mwii#konig#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig modern warfare#konig mwii#könig fanfiction#konig fanfiction#könig x reader#konig x reader#könig x fem reader#konig x female reader#könig x male reader#konig x male reader#könig x gender neutral reader#könig x gn reader#konig x gn!reader#könig x you#könig x king
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A/N: You're going to have to pry retired!avengers reader x Natasha au from my cold, dead hands. Anyway, I wanted to see if I could quickly churn out a little something before needing to focus my attention on this stupid MSJ memo.
From a drabble list: #34 - "The boxes are all labeled incorrectly."
Parings: Natasha x Reader
Warnings: time...and it's a little angsty ig but there's a happy ending.
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You slice through the tape with ease and toss the box cutter to the side.
"Huh, so that's where I packed my boxing gear," you lift your gloves out of the box and set them aside. Moving has been anything but a breeze. Natasha finally pried your last remaining stubborn fingers that had a death grip on your life as an Avenger. Your retirement party was too-perfect. Even Fury was there to send you off. You hated it. Natasha knew from the jump you wanted to die an Avenger, not some washed-up hero that spent retirement trying to find anything to fill the bottomless void left from no longer being needed by the world anymore.
But you love Natasha much, much more than you hate not being an Avenger.
She tried to make it up to you, even picking a house that has a home theater and game room for your poker nights with Tony and the boys. Someplace by the beach while being close enough to the S.H.I.E.L.D. training facility so you can sleep in as long as possible before having to train recruits.
Your new life scares you much more than any bullet, bomb, or power-hungry warlord ever could.
You hear the front door open and keys drop onto the new marble counter that Natasha spent weeks curating. The familiar clicking of heels draws nearer. You feel your wife's nails drag across your back before her fingers dig into the knots between your shoulders.
"There you are," Natasha's voice is so gentle, it has been since your retirement party. She always knew what she wanted with you, and you never gave her reason to doubt you would meet her halfway. Retirement was the last step she needed you to take into this new chapter of your lives. Most people would have rather opted to watch paint dry, but she would have waited forever for you if you needed it.
"How's the unpacking going?" Natasha rests her head on top of yours, letting her arms drape around your neck. You instinctively lean back into her and take a few breaths. Among the most chaotic scenes, Natasha has always been your safe place to land.
"We're making some progress," you trail off, both of your eyes scanning the room that's littered in torn, sliced, and otherwise unopened boxes. You feel Natasha heave a loud sigh against your back. Her arms come up to your shoulders to give you a sympathetic squeeze.
"Wait, why are my dishes in your underwear box?"
You chew on your bottom lip for a moment to buy yourself some time, "because...the boxes are labelled incorrectly."
"And who was in charge of labelling the boxes?"
"I was," you try not to sound so deflated, Natasha's laugh echoes through the mostly empty house.
"Should've hired the recruits to do our dirty work," she smirks and pulls out her phone, "I'll get us take out."
You watch her rattle off your favorite order as she walks down a barren hallway. Maybe retirement won't be so bad after all.
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Training
(Katniss Everdeen x Fem Reader) ❀
Summary: You meet Katniss while training to be a soldier.
Warnings: Some light swearing and lightly described injuries. (SFW)
Word count: 2879
Having spent most of your life working the markets of District 12, you weren’t the best fighter, and you hardly knew how to wield a sword. Although your life had been full of poverty, it was also full of peace. That was why you were surprised when informed that you would be drafted as an emergency soldier for the rebellion on the side of District 13.
You progressed your way from dummies to other trainees, but the breathing beings were much more ferocious than the sacks of old flour. You’d been training for a week and hadn’t won a single duel yet.
After your third loss, you left to nurse your wounds and practice on your own again. You wrapped your shoulder and lost track of time. It was far past dinner and you finally stopped when you heard a clatter.
That was when you noticed somebody else was here too.
You abandoned your training and went in search of the sound. In the small arena beside you, you noticed another girl around your age.
The girl's hair was tied into a side braid, bow clutched tightly between her fingers. She was shooting effortlessly at the holograms, taking down one after one with ease. When the training session ended she turned over her shoulder and noticed you watching.
You felt a heat creep up your neck and spread across her cheeks as your eyes locked with her gray ones. They were cold and reserved, but not angry.
“Sorry.” You stuttered, stepping away from the wall. “I thought I was the only one here. You’re amazing.”
By some miracle the girl didn’t seem bothered. She slung her bow over her shoulder and came over towards you. As she stood a few feet away from you it finally clicked in your head who she was.
“I’m uh—I’m y/n.” You stammered, suddenly not wanting to meet her eyes in case you blabbered on.
Standing in front of you was not just any girl, but Katniss, Katniss Everdeen; The Mockingjay; The Girl on Fire; The girl who fueled a rebellion with just a few berries.
She was practically a celebrity down here in 13, and once upon a time back in childhood you may have even called her a friend. You were sure she didn’t remember that.
Was she always this beautiful?
“Katniss.” The girl said with a nod. She eyed you curiously for a moment, the smallest flicker of recognition in her eyes but she said nothing about it. In fact, she didn’t say much at all.
You nodded too, unsure what else to do. This was quickly turning awkward.
“You’ve been training for a while.” Katniss finally states. It’s a weird thing to say, but it’s a true observation. She then points to the wrapped wound on your shoulder. “Is that new?”
That blush sparkled across your skin again, this time from embarrassment rather than awe.
“Yeah. I’m… I’m not the best fighter, so I’m just training.” You explain. “They’re going to draft me as an emergency soldier.”
“Then you should definitely train more. You need it.”
The bluntness of her statement drew out a frown across your lips. “Thanks.” You mumbled, even more embarrassed than before.
Katniss seemed to realize what she said and gave you an apologetic look, though she said nothing else on the topic. She checked the time and then hung her bow on the wall.
“I have to go. You should rest, you won’t help anybody by wearing yourself out.”
You watched silently as she left the room and turned the light off. Katniss was a lot more stuck in her own world than you remembered, but she was just as good with a bow as ever.
The next day you came early to training and worked your ass off for an extra hour but it still didn’t work. You were as good with a gun as a mouse, you couldn’t even get an arrow to shoot the right direction from a bow, and a 2 year old would’ve been better with a knife. The only reason you hadn’t been brutally murdered in training yet was that you knew how to dodge and escape mostly unscathed, but that wouldn’t do you good in a real battle.
Every failure was just increasingly more frustrating and you were debating on signing yourself up as a human shield instead.
Finally, you gave up. You dropped the bow and sank to the floor with a loud groan.
“You’re holding it wrong.”
The voice snapped you out of your self pity and you lifted your head towards the sound, finding a surprise.
Katniss stood at the entrance to the small arena, her own bow in hand and quiver strapped to her back. She was a little sweaty but seemed just as alert as ever.
“Your hand is too low.” Katniss continued as she stepped in. She pulled her bow off of her back and held it up to demonstrate.
You watched wide eyed with curiosity.
When Katniss handed you your own bow, you hesitantly took it and tried to copy her example.
“Like this?”
The other girl let out a soft chuckle. She set her hand on top of yours, her fingers were warm. She gently moved your hand up just a little. “Yes, like this.”
You slowly nodded and did as she said, holding the bow her way. It did feel easier.
“There you go.” Katniss nodded with approval. She helped you up to your feet and offered you an arrow. “Now, aim and shoot.”
Her breath was hot and tickled the side of your neck, making your heart stampede. She helped you prepare, her hand still over yours. As you angled and aimed the bow, she nodded.
“Shoot.”
The command snapped you back to reality. You let the arrow fly and missed the target by more than a few feet. So much for getting better. Now you felt like even more of a letdown.
“Sorry.” You muttered, ashamed of yourself.
Katniss shook her head and handed you another arrow. “Don’t be. Nobody gets it perfect on their first try.”
You didn’t get it on your second try either, or your third, but you were getting closer. Finally, on your fourth try, the arrow hit the edge of the target and not the wall behind it.
Katniss congratulated you with a rare smile and helped you a few more times until you continuously hit the target.
“Now keep practicing like that. You’ll get it soon enough, you have good form.” Katniss explained, letting her hair out of her braid. She’d taken a seat on a bench to watch you shoot. “And remember to rest, you’re no use as a worn out soldier.”
You couldn’t help but smile too.
The next few days, Katniss continued to give you shooting lessons, and became less reserved. When you started to always hit the target straight on, she began to teach you how to hit moving targets.
“Keep your focus on them. Don’t aim for where they are, aim for where they will be.” Katniss breathed against the back of your head. One of her hands was on your shoulder, the other on your elbow as she slowly turned you with the hologram.
You did what she said, looking ahead of the hologram. When it was moments away from your gaze, you released the arrow. It shot right into the target.
Katniss gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Great!”
You looked up at her just as she looked down and her chin bumped into your forehead. As if the way she was holding you and how she stood a few inches taller than you wasn’t already making your heart flutter, that certainly did it.
“Sorry.” She blurted out, stepping away. You missed her warmth already.
“It’s alright, it didn’t hurt.” You assured her quickly. “Thank you for teaching me, I really think I’m getting somewhere now! I’m the best shooter in my whole group!”
That made Katniss beam with pride and instead of saying something, she responded with a hug, and a tight one at that.
“I’m so proud of you.” She whispered happily, resting her chin atop your head without any pain this time. She hugged you close.
You couldn’t help but melt into her embrace and hug her back as tight as you could. It had been a long time since anybody had ever hugged you in this manner and it just felt so good, especially since Katniss was the one doing it.
When you broke away from the hug, you couldn’t help the bright blush on your face but luckily she didn’t seem to notice.
“Well, I think I’ve taught you all there is about how to use and work a bow.” Katniss told you, unaware of the way that made your heart sink. “I think my work here is done.”
“Do you know how to use a sword?” You asked rapidly the second she was done speaking. “Or a knife? Or just… anything else? I suck at just about every weapon out there.”
Katniss let out a sharp sigh and shook her head. “No, not well enough to teach you at least.”
An unconcealable frown broke out across your face and you slowly nodded. That was probably for the best anyway, Katniss most likely had better things to do then train you at odd hours of the night. But you didn’t want to lose her yet. You two never hung out or talked anywhere else but this was like your own little world together. You frowned even more and sighed.
“But… we could take a lesson together.” Katniss prompted the question hesitantly, as if you’d deny her. “If you want. I think learning more hand to hand things would help me as well.”
The permanent frown on your face was replaced with an even bigger smile and you nodded with glee.
The next day, the two of you signed up for a class together that would teach you the basics, give you each a wooden stick, and then let you at it. Katniss warned you beforehand that she could be a bit competitive and you took that challenge with a grin.
“I thought your aim was supposed to be good!” You called out teasingly as she swung at you and missed, hitting the wall. If there was anything you were actually good at on your own, it was dodging.
Katniss didn’t appreciate the tease. “You’re moving too quickly!” She shouted back, lunging at you again.
You stepped back and her stick smacked right into yours. You two had been at it for about an hour and were both sweaty and dirty. You were actually having fun, dodging and using your height as an advantage. Katniss was not and growing more and more pissed every time you ran. You couldn’t help but find it amusing.
“Maybe you should strike faster!” You exclaimed, blocking another one of her attacks and swiping at her feet. “Or just, I don’t know, be better?”
Katniss groaned and lunged again. This time she managed to take a jab at you and was coming back for seconds. She raised her stick high and struck.
The only reason you weren’t smacked in the head was that you frantically swung your stick back at her, and clocked her right in the nose.
“Shit! Katniss!” You exclaimed. Both of your sticks clattered to the ground at the same time as she stumbled backwards and you ran to her side.
Giving your trainer and now friend a bloody nose wasn’t on your schedule at all.
Katniss had a hand clamped over her nose, blood filling her palm as she winced and groaned. Tears were brimming in her eyes but she was fighting to keep them back.
“I’m so sorry!” You blurted out. You brought her over to the first aid station and held ice against her nose until it stopped bleeding.
Finally, Katniss looked up at you after she wiped the last bit of blood away. Instead of the expected anger in her eyes, there was actually a small glint of humor.
“I thought you said you weren’t good with combat.” She said, in a surprisingly teasing voice.
“I’m not. I just panicked. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Katniss assured you, a smile teasing her lips. She rubbed the side of her nose. “I’ll just have a big bruise on my face for a week or two.”
When you realized she was messing with you, you couldn’t help but laugh and sit beside her.
“I think tomorrow, you and I should meet here, and you should train me.” Katniss told you, her voice now serious. “It’s only fair, right?”
You felt a little spark of hope in your chest and grinned. “Right.”
And so the next day you were at it again. You spent a lot of the time just teaching Katniss how to dodge, and in turn, she gave you a few tips on aim.
You’d also upgraded to an arena with some obstacles to heighten the risk.
Running after Katniss, you chased her up a rock. You were laughing but also focused; a little too focused. Katniss stopped at the top and you ran right into her, causing the two of you to topple to the ground, you landing right on top of her.
You two looked at each other, chest to chest, and faces both flushed. You were too stunned to move and Katniss had gotten the wind knocked out of her so she wasn’t able to talk.
Eventually you both just started to laugh. You stayed on top of her, shaking your head and giggling.
Finally she spoke up. “Alaina, you’re making my leg numb.” Katniss groaned teasingly. “My whole body is numb now.”
You blushed even more and rolled off of her and sat up. She sat up beside you, still panting.
“I need a minute.” Katniss breathed. Her head slowly found its way onto your shoulder as she tried to catch her breath.
You sat quietly, even more flustered by the way she was leaning into you. You gave her hand a gentle squeeze and waited until she felt okay enough to stand back up.
“Don’t go apologizing yet, you’ll regret it after I beat your ass.” Katniss said as she picked her stick back up, a grin on her face. She wasn’t done, not yet.
You were surprised by her persistence but grinned back at her. “You’ll be the one begging for your life when your ass is flat on the ground.”
The two of you spent the next half hour training and sparring, eventually giving up when you were beaten and bruised.
You sat beside Katniss on the bench, wrapping up the gash on her arm with some medical tape. You were exhausted from fighting, but you didn’t want the night to end either.
“There you go.” You sealed the tape off and pressed a soft kiss to the wound. You didn’t realize what you did until it already happened and you blushed bright red. “Sorry. My mother always did that to me.. She said it made the wounds hurt less.”
“It worked.” Katniss told you, looking over her shoulder at you. “But I think you missed.”
Confusion clouded your gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You missed.” Katniss repeated, flipping her whole body to face you. She took your hand and lifted it up to her face, using your finger to point at her lips. “You missed by a lot actually, I think we need to work on your aim.”
You could’ve fainted on the spot. Your heart raced in your chest and you grew even redder. Was she… Did she really ask you to kiss her? There was no way this was happening. She couldn’t have felt the same way you did.
Katniss watched your confusion with amusement. She took your hand and pointed it to your lips.
“May I? I think I should demonstrate this too.” She murmured softly.
You could only nod, the words stuck in your throat.
Katniss smiled softly and her lips met yours with ease. The kiss was short and sweet, but something you had been longing for so badly. You smiled too and then kissed her again, and then once more for good measure.
Finally, Katniss pulled away, her hand finding yours once more but just holding it this time. She smiled lovingly at you, her face red.
There was no way you could let her win this. You two had built up a competitive streak over the last few weeks and you weren’t going to let it off here.
“How about one more round?” You asked, picking up your stick. “And then, you come back to my room, and I’ll fix your wounds there.”
Katniss blushed even more but her eyes glimmered. She let out a laugh. “You think I’ll have more wounds by then? You’re that good?”
You laughed too and helped her to her feet. “I’m not sure, but I’m sure you’d want me to kiss every single one of them either way.”
“You bet.”
The two of you returned to the arena, eagerly awaiting what would come after the spar, and knowing that your lips wouldn’t just stick to her wounds.
#katniss everdeen x reader#katniss everdeen x you#katniss everdeen x fem!reader#fem!reader#katniss everdeen#the hunger games#catching fire#the mockingjay#katniss everdeen fic#2 fics already guys I’m on a roll
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His Anchor
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!reader
summary: sometimes Kaz needs a comforting presence.
fic type - angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship
warning - Kaz's haphephobia and trauma :(, also a little ooc Kaz at the end??
word count - 1,494
a/n: hiii! hope you guys enjoy!
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It wasn't unusual for Kaz to get overwhelmed and slip into one of his episodes. Too much time spent in interactions, physical or not, would cause him to feel the water rise up his spine and start to consume him. In the past during times like these, Kaz would run off and lock himself into his room. No one was to come in, and no one was to go out. Now things were different. Now he had (Y/N).
The girl had become apart of his team of Crows early on, but it wasn't until a little while ago that the two crossed into a relationship status past friends (one that Kaz refused to call "lovers" due to his hatred for visible weaknesses). Since they had reached this point, the two had been working on trying to break down Kaz's walls. Understandably, the couple had been taking it slow, and didn't try to go to far out of Kaz's comfort zone.
So far, they had managed to make some progress. The first step had been hand holding in short time frames - which was okay, with or without gloves.
Next had been opening up about Kaz's childhood. (Y/N) still didn't know much, due to the fact that she didn't want to push him to far to fast, but it was enough for her to understand where he was coming from. Now, when he had the episodes, she was right there with him - staying far enough away so to not make it worse, but close enough that he wouldn't have to go through it alone. She was now his savior, pulling him back to shore when the waters threatened to drown him. And he needed that safety, especially in moments like these.
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Kaz was crouched in the corner of his room. His goal had been to huddle up on his bed where he would be more comfortable, but the waves had become to much for him to go any farther. All he could see was Jordie. All he could see was Jordie. There was no escaping him. He could feel the cold hands of Jordie and the others gripping at his body.
Kaz had been alone in his study when the attack hit him, so he didn't have far to go to hide away. Unbeknownst to him, (Y/N) had seen his shaken form enter his room. She subtly excused herself from the conversation she was having with Nina and Matthias, and calmly made her way to the room. Inside, her brain was running a mile a minuet. She knew how bad Kaz could get sometimes, and she could only hope that he was alright.
Inside the room, the boy had curled into himself farther, trying to get any slight piece of relief. He was too far into his own head that he didn't notice (Y/N)'s knock on his door, nor did he notice her enter the room.
"Kaz?" she quietly called out. Her gaze drifted to the boy on the ground - the boy she had grown to truly care about. She could tell he was hyperventilating, a common occurrence during these episodes, but his breathing was far more erratic than usual. "Kaz, sweetheart?" (Y/N) closed in on the boy, arms cautiously open and outstretched. Kaz still didn't notice her. Once more, she stepped towards him. "Kaz, I need you to listen to me, okay?"
His gloved hands were painfully clasped around his shoulders. He couldn't take in anything other than the water and Jordie. Nothing else seemed to be real.
(Y/N)'s hands reached for Kaz's. She didn't know what she was planning on doing, but she knew that she needed to bring him out of the episode fast, for his sanity and hers. "I'm here Kaz." she mumbled, soft hands winding around the leather she had become happily accustomed to. "You're safe. You're here with me." Her words and movements were gradually becoming more frantic. While keeping one hand on his, she brought the other back to herself for a moment. She knew that holding him anywhere else was way past the boundaries they had broken, and although it could possibly help, she wasn't sure if it would make things off between them afterwards.
A broken gasp brought (Y/N)'s attention back to the boy in front of her. Kaz's chest was rapidly heaving, trying to take in unnecessary amounts of air. His already shaking body seemed to increase in speed. She needed to do something, and fast.
(Y/N) knew that even the slightest bit of cold flesh may send him farther into his episode, so she quickly pulled both hands away and started rubbing them together to get some friction. Once they were as warm as she could get them, (Y/N) placed her hands onto his body - the left cradling his neck, and the right caressing his face. She pulled his body tight against hers, resting his head on her clothed chest. From this angle he would be able to hear her madly-paced heartbeat. "Kaz, darling, please." she loudly begged.
In Kaz's head, and behind Jordie's angry yells, he started to hear a steady 'thump'. Warmth enveloped his face and neck, pushing away some of the violent waves.
Soft cries started to leave the girls mouth. She couldn't help the frustrated and scared tears misting over her eyes, or the overly panicked thoughts rushing through her head.
Kaz could feel the waves dying down, but he still couldn't get away from the cold and damp feeling of the death he experienced. The thumping was still a steady tune, pulsing through the back of his conscience. He knew something or someone was there, but he couldn't get away.
"I'm here." her choked words returned to their former softness, but still repeated rapidly, as if speaking them over and over would bring him out of his trance. "Please..."
The thumping grew louder, and faster in pace. Whatever it was, Kaz was sure would burst in minuets. It echoed in his mind, blocking out Jordie's yells - blocking out the smell of sea water and the feeling of water filling his lungs. Then came the call of a soft a familiar voice - one that he could recognize and point out within all of the crowds in Ketterdam. (Y/N). The dark haze started to clear from his mind, letting him take in the sight of the girl holding him.
For a moment everything stopped. It was as if Kaz was someone else - as if he hadn't lost Jordie, or been dumped with the other bodies, or as if he could freely touch anything and anyone he wanted. He felt the soft skin pressing on his neck and face, and subconsciously leaned into it. Fresh tears streamed from his eyes, coming into contact with the soft skin he now adored, and he couldn't help but let out matching whimpers and cries of his own.
A soft gasp sounded from about him, "Kaz!" He could feel the girl start to pull away, the feeling of her warmth leaving his cold body, and he swiftly pulled her back.
"Stay." his broken voice whispered. "I'm sorry." Her heartbeat rang in his ears, proving to him that she was real, not some body he was forcefully sat beside.
"Don't be," she hoarsely muttered. "You have nothing to apologize for. Not to me." Her right hand ran over the rough skin of his cheek, brushing against the small scars that littered the area.
"I do." his voice vibrated against her shoulder. "You shouldn't have to deal with this."
(Y/N) pulled his face away from her, and used her hands to force his stare back in her direction. "Kaz Brekker, don't start with that. I am here - to help, to hold, to get you through the unnecessary suffering. I will be here every step of the way." Her voice never raised above a whisper.
"But-" he started, but (Y/N) cut him off.
"No. I will be here. I will be your tether back to reality, whenever I am needed. I will bring you back to me - back to the crows - back to yourself. We will get through this. One day, things will get better. One day, I will have you, without your armor. But until then, I will be with you every step of the way." (Y/N)'s eyes pierced into his own throughout her entire speech. Her words and look were enough to render Kaz, for the first time, speechless.
Kaz leaned forward, securing himself back into her arms. He didn't know how much longer this moment would last, or how much longer he'd be able to hold her without feeling the need to throw up, but he knew she would wait as long as it took for him to be free of his fears and hold her like this always. He knew that he had her. he finally had his anchor, and he wasn't letting it go.
#reader insert#grishaverse#shadow and bone x reader#netflix shadow and bone#six of crows imagine#six of crows#six of crows x reader#kazzle dazzle#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker#shadow and bone#freddy carter#kaz dirtyhands brekker
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finally — c.f. x reader
**not my gif**
Summary: Conrad really wants to kiss you... but something keeps getting in the way - AKA the three times that Conrad almost kissed you and the one time he finally did.
Warnings: alcohol, light profanity, jealous Conrad, kissing, making out
Word Count: ~4.5K
A/N: three days late but here she is!!!!! sorry guys, it took me way longer than anticipated. a lil rusty but not too mad abt it. if u have any req's, send em my way :))
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Conrad doesn’t remember much of that lazy summer afternoon at the Fisher household when at the exploratory age of fifteen, he had held your hands and tried his best to hold in a chuckle as he watched you attempt to waltz with him. He hadn’t told you then, but you were doing it all wrong.
Your feet moved just a little too quick, stepping over his own and your mouth spilled perpetual apologies as you cringed at the lack of rhythm in your movements. You marveled at how you had made it this far in life, having acquired absolutely no coordination at all. It was a miracle, you thought, that you could even walk straight.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Conrad had smiled, countering your own critique, as his hands remained on your own and you were glad that they were – you would’ve fallen on your face by now if they didn’t have a steadfast grip on you.
“Really?” You had asked as you brought your eyes up to look at him properly. You squinted a little to convey your disbelief but found nothing on his smiling, bespectacled face that would show that he was lying. “I feel like I look really stupid,” you voiced your concern again, laughing a little.
“No, you look great,” Conrad had said with a soft shake of his head. “As always.”
The compliment had caught you off-guard, unsure of how to respond to such flattery. You laughed it off, though — albeit with a nervous lilt, and tried to focus again on the rhythmic movement of your body alongside his.
“Yeah, okay,” you chuckled, deciding to play along.
“What?” He had asked, amused.
“I do look stupid, don’t I?”
And Conrad couldn’t contain it then as he looked at the knowing smile on your face. He laughed with you as you shook your head and rubbed your face in defeat.
“You’re not that bad,” he had tried to console, taking your hands back in his, doing nothing to hide the massive grin on his face. “Just a little more practice and you’ll be as good as a deb. Seriously.”
“You and your lies, Conrad Fisher,” you had accused lightheartedly with a growing smile on your face. You knew you were hopeless at dancing.
Hell, even Conrad knew you were hopeless at dancing. But it gave him an excellent excuse to hold your hand … and study your face, which mysteriously always seemed to have gotten more beautiful even after the countless summers Conrad had spent admiring it.
“You just need to slow down your movements,” he had said as he placed one hand on your waist and gently held your hand in the other. “Feel the music and all that shit.”
“Right, of course.”
“Feel the rhythm.”
“Yes, uh huh, I totally know how to do that.”
“Let your body do the leading.”
“God, don’t say that,” you had laughed again at his cheesy admonitions that he swore were helping you reach your unfathomable potential as an excellent dancer. Your cheeks flushed a little as you threw your head back to laugh.
“What?” he had looked up to grin at you. “It’s helping.”
And you hadn’t noticed it yourself but his stupid advice really was helping. Your feet no longer seemed to be in a frenzy and you had started dancing with a lot more elegance than before. It was certainly progress.
It was strange then, how quickly the ambiance in the room changed. The sunlight that danced in the Fisher living room suddenly felt a lot more momentous, the calming waltz music a lot more romantic and suddenly Conrad’s hand on your waist was emitting too much heat. The slow swaying didn’t do much to diffuse the tension either and it didn’t take long for Conrad’s eyes to soften as they looked into yours.
“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he had said then, almost whispering it, as if he wanted to make sure you were really hearing him. “You do look great. You always do.”
And this time, your eyes roamed his face – really roamed his face – to check if he was lying. And sure, he had rendered you speechless before, but this time felt different. This time, it didn’t just stop at a simple hand on your waist or a soft smile shared by the beach or a good morning text that contained one too many emojis.
This time, his eyes wandered down to your lips and it seemed like they were glued there for an eternity. Like no matter how hard Conrad tried, he could not get enough of them. Your breath hitched in your throat as his thumb gently grazed the back of the hand that he had clasped, eyes flickering back to yours for a second as if to ask permission to meet your lips before you heard footsteps in the hallway.
“Conrad! Mom’s asking for you!” Jeremiah called, and you quickly let go of his hand and stepped away, trying your best to play off everything that had just happened.
So no, Conrad doesn’t remember much from that lazy summer afternoon at all, except for every detail of you that he can possibly memorize, that he can play in his head over and over again.
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Conrad Fisher was many things — sailor extraordinaire, a destined D1 athlete, a gifted student — but he had never been a good communicator. This was a known fact, yet the gravity of his ineptness at communicating showed itself in more blatant ways as the years went on.
He had certainly grown up now and if anyone had noticed, it had been you. His hair was a little longer, his muscles more defined and he had long ditched his dorky baseball hats and glasses. He talked less now than he did at the age of fifteen and his eyes had assumed a sort of glassy cover, a shield to hide what he was really thinking or feeling at any given moment. You had noticed these changes – it was hard not to: you two had always been close.
But, much to your dismay, your attempts at getting Conrad to talk to you hadn’t worked. At all. He had grown colder with each attempt and frankly, you had had enough. After spending much of your day trying to convince Conrad to go to one of Nicole’s parties with Jeremiah, Belly, Steven and you, you had finally given up. If he wanted to distance himself from you, there was nothing you could do and that was a bitter truth you had to accept. You were tired of running after him only for him to change course so fast that you got lost in the process.
And so, here you stood by yourself in Nicole’s crowded living room as people jumped and swayed all around you, drink in hand. Jeremiah had walked off somewhere with some guy he had just met and Steven had left the party long ago with Shayla. Even Belly, who normally remained at your side, had found some company with Cam, some guy that she had met at the bonfire just a week prior.
You swirled the drink in your hand as you looked at Cam and Belly sitting together on a couch a few feet away. You smiled as Cam extended a hesitant hand to tuck Belly’s hair behind her ears and saw Belly blush. It was bittersweet then, how quickly your loneliness seemed to catch up with you.
You’d always had a thing for Conrad. You were convinced almost everyone knew at this point. Conrad knew for sure, yet he did nothing to show that he felt the same. His cruel treatment had reached a precipice this summer, and you found yourself exhaling through your nose heavily. You were so done with Conrad.
“Hey,” you felt a tap on your shoulder, “[Y/N], right?”
You turned around to an attractive blonde guy towering over you, shooting you a quick friendly smile. You hadn’t really talked to the guy before but you’d seen him around the country club. Standing in the dimly lit room, he didn’t look half bad.
“Yeah,” you smiled back at him, crossing your arms over your chest nervously. “Sorry, who are you?”
“Ben,” he said as he took a step closer. “Wanna dance?”
You looked around for a second, unsure of whether or not you should accept his offer. You were about to politely decline the blonde’s offer before you saw Conrad walk into the living room, beer bottle in hand and a blank expression on his face. His eyes caught yours as they surveyed the room and flickered quickly to the tall guy beside you. Conrad felt it then, in every part of his body: a strange, prickling sensation followed by waves of anger. With his jaw set, he was sure his eyes were about to turn green with jealousy any moment now.
“Yeah,” you turned to Ben beside you, taking your eyes off of the scowling Conrad that stood across the room. “I’d love to.”
It hadn’t originally been your intention to make Conrad jealous. Your acceptance of Ben’s offer was more for yourself. You needed to show yourself that you could move on, be wanted by people who aren’t distant or cold. People who aren’t jigsaw puzzles, those who don’t need to be cried over because you cannot, for the love of God, figure them out. You wanted something simple for once. You wanted someone who didn’t want you in secret, if at all.
It had only been a few minutes into the song before you found your eyes involuntarily wandering over to Conrad, leaning against a wall and taking a swig of his beer. His eyes had been burning holes in your head the entire time, and as you finally made eye contact with him, he did nothing to turn them away. He brought his bottle to his lips once again as his eyes remained on you, silently conveying his dismay.
“Are you and him a thing or something?” Ben asked as his eyes followed to where you were looking. He wore a friendly smile, one that would show that he wasn’t mad at the prospect, just curious.
You scoffed as you shook your head. “Absolutely not. Just friends.” It hurt a little to say it out loud, but you had to face the fact that it was the truth. No matter how much you wanted him to do more, to be more, he was just a friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“Good,” Ben had smiled as his hands found your waist and he took a step closer. His hands slipped a little lower as you two danced to whatever pop song was playing in the background and you breathed a laugh as he whispered corny jokes in your ear. He was so simple. It was refreshing.
“[Y/N]. We need to talk,” you heard Conrad say before you felt his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn away from Ben and look at him.
But he wasn’t looking at you anymore. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Ben. They carried a silent warning, a sort of menacing ferocity that could only be generated by someone like Conrad, but Ben didn’t do much to heed it.
“We’re dancing, man,” Ben had said affirmatively as he placed a firm hand on Conrad’s chest to push him away and you held your breath as your eyes flickered nervously between the two guys.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Conrad deadpanned. “But I need to talk to her.” He flicked Ben’s hand from his chest and took a step closer. “Got a problem with that?”
Before any punches could be thrown, you hastily took Conrad’s hand to lead him away to the kitchen. You did not want a repeat of the bonfire last week, that much you knew. Conrad’s new personality change had also warranted his sudden affinity for picking fights.
“What the hell was that?” you fumed as you dropped his hand and looked at his blank face with nothing but resentment. “Seriously, who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Who do I think I am?” he yelled back, setting his bottle down and running a hand through his hair. “Who do you think you are? Ben? Really?”
“Yeah, Ben,” you had said in disbelief. “What’s it to you? How is it any of your business? What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?”
He scoffed as he shook his head, feigning amusement. “We both know what Ben’s like.”
“What’s he like? Please, enlighten me, Conrad. Because I’m obviously just some little girl who has no idea what she’s doing, right?” The anger you felt in this moment could not be described. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Conrad could barge into your life as he pleased, and walk out whenever you demanded more. It wasn’t fair.
“Ben’s a player,” Conrad said impatiently. “Stop yelling like a baby, [Y/N].”
You could almost laugh at the incredulity of it all. “What does that make you, then?”
“What?”
“God,” you tilted your head back in disbelief, a bitter grimace on your face. “How are you this clueless? Why do you keep stringing me along like this? You act jealous when I dance with someone else and then turn around and barely give me the time of day. I’m so done. I’m so done with waiting for you.” You exclaimed, taking deep breaths. “I… I want all of you or none of you. Just— Pick one.” You struggled to get the sentence out.
The anger in Conrad’s eyes had never fled as quick as it did that night upon hearing your words. His eyes softened once more as he took a step closer. “You have all of me already.”
“No, I don’t,” you took a step back and swatted away his hand that tried to reach out to hold your face. “And that’s fine. Seriously. I’m over– I can get over it. But stop fucking sabotaging me! I’m allowed to dance with people. I’m allowed to dance with Ben! Stop driving away people who actually fucking want me.”
It took a moment for your words to register for Conrad and he winced at the heartbreaking honesty of them. He knew he’d been an asshole. Everyone around him had done well to remind him of that every waking moment. But it killed him to think about how wrong you were.
“I don’t want you to get over it,” he said, trying once more to take a step closer.
“Excuse me?” You’d never slapped anyone before but this felt like the perfect opportunity.
“Because I do want you,” he whispered as he placed a tentative hand on your face and he was pleased to see you didn’t swat it away this time. “I’ve always wanted you. And I think I always will. I don’t want you to get over me,” he said again as he leant in a fraction of an inch and you could smell the booze on him. It was intoxicating to be this close. You were sure you could get drunk off of this feeling alone. Your eyes searched his as he leant in closer, “Because I don’t think I could ever get over you.”
You gulped as you saw his eyes jump to your lips. Your noses were almost brushing now and you could feel the ghost of his lips on yours.
This was the moment you’d been waiting for since you two were kids. It was everything you thought you wanted.
But the smell of booze on him was intoxicating for all the wrong reasons.
It took everything in you to bring your hand to his chest and push him away. “You’re drunk, Conrad,” you pulled away, averting eye contact. “Go home.”
And as you turned around to walk back to the living room, he couldn’t do much more than watch you leave, breathing heavily through his nose. He looked around awkwardly before spotting the drinks and picked up a bottle or two as he walked out the door. He’d be needing those tonight.
Conrad was many things – a shitty communicator, misunderstood, a full-on trainwreck – but he was also completely, absolutely in love with you.
The only problem was, being a lovesick teenager without the ability to communicate was a bit of a tragic flaw.
_____________
You cursed profanities under your breath as you nervously looked around for Ben in the crowd. The overwhelming amount of eyes on you at this moment certainly was not helping and the weight of your white dress bore down on you worse than it had all evening.
Being a debutante this season had not been your idea. At all.
And as you stood in the middle of the large banquet hall as your deb sisters paired up with their escorts, you couldn’t help but curse yourself for ever giving into Susannah’s request.
“Jer!” you called nervously as you walked over to him in the midst of all the couples getting ready for the final waltz of the evening. “Have you seen Ben?”
“Ben?” he questioned with furrowed brows as if he was trying to remember who that was.
“Yeah, uh, my escort?” you laughed nervously, continuing to look around, your hands folded over your stomach fiddling anxiously.
“Oh right!” he exclaimed, before furrowing his brows again. “Didn’t he leave with Gigi’s sister like twenty minutes ago?”
“He left?” you asked incredulously to no one in particular as Jer had been roped in by Gigi, preparing for the dance that you were sure you would no longer be participating in. Belly shot you an alarmed look from across the room, as she stood with Cam’s arms draped over her waist.
“Where’s Ben?” she mouthed silently and you had no answer to give. You looked around once again but it was hard to escape the humiliation of the whole situation. It felt like everyone was looking at you, like the whole room was silently remarking on how pathetic you looked standing there. You were just about to leave the dance floor when you caught Conrad’s eyes.
Conrad, who sat with Susannah and Laurel and looked jaw-droppingly gorgeous in his suit.
Conrad’s eyes didn’t hold the same silent pity as everyone else. Instead, they seemed like they were gleaming. It seemed like he was waiting silently. Waiting for your permission to stand up and walk onto the dance floor. And, he must have seen something in your eyes then – something you didn’t even know you were concealing – because he stood straight up right then and walked over to you with the gentlest of steps.
He wordlessly extended his hand to you and you took it quickly, keeping your eyes on his. And that’s when the music started.
It felt so easy to dance with him. It was like it took no effort at all. Your bodies found the rhythm quickly and you couldn’t help but remember the dance practices he used to subject you two to when you were fifteen.
“I’m getting deja vu right now,” you whispered to Conrad and your heart fluttered a little at how quickly a shit-eating grin appeared on his face.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” you laughed a little and Conrad couldn’t think of much else but that laugh and that sound and how much he wanted to hear it again.
“Looks like you’re, uh– feeling the music,” he grinned as he tried his best to keep his voice down. You groaned silently as you remembered his cliche advice.
“Oh, god,” you shook your head, looking around quickly to make sure no one had noticed you two talking in the middle of your waltz. You were sure the dance teacher would have a meltdown if she saw.
“Feeling the rhythm.”
“Do not say it, Conrad,” you snorted a quiet laugh as you continued to sway.
“Letting your body do the leading,” he said finally through a laugh of his own, adding a suggestive eyebrow raise at the end. You shook your head fondly. Same old Conrad.
“Do I look stupid tonight, Con?” you asked then, a smile still on your face. Conrad stopped laughing then and his smile softened as he regarded you just as he had a couple of years prior.
“No, you look beautiful, [Y/N],” he said simply, and he meant it. “As always.”
It was the truth. It had taken everything in Conrad to tear his eyes off of you when you had walked in with Ben. Ben, who was nowhere to be found right now.
“Thank you,” you said with a small smile. “And thanks for stepping in like that. I know dancing isn’t really your thing anymore.”
“Who said dancing isn’t my thing anymore?” he asked with mock offense. “Maybe I’m just very selective with my dance partners.”
You chuckled, playing along once more. “Right, of course.”
You swayed in silence for a little while before Conrad broke it again.
“I’m glad it was me,” he said quietly, but his tone carried the utmost sincerity. “I’ve kind of waited for this ever since that first dance rehearsal.” He breathed a quiet laugh and his eyes searched yours nervously, as if he was testing the waters. Testing how vulnerable he should be, given what transpired at that party. Though you had both gone on with life acting like that exchange hadn’t happened, Conrad couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“I’m glad it was you, too,” you said slowly, as if you were testing the waters yourself. “Looks like you were right about Ben.” You finished with a bitter smile. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, every last one of Conrad’s words from that night at the party still rang in your ears. He had called Ben a player that night alone and you’d carelessly ignored him.
“He’s an asshole,” Conrad shook his head. “I’m sorry he did this to you.”
You found yourself feeling a little guilty at his apology because truth be told, you weren’t sorry at all. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself that your first choice for a dance partner and escort tonight would’ve been Ben, you couldn’t shake the allure of the tall, brunette boy standing right in front of you.
“I almost asked you to be my escort instead of Ben, you know,” you blurted out, filling with instant regret. “But– I guess… I just wasn’t sure if you would’ve said yes.” You cringed a little when you saw Conrad’s eyebrows furrow, showing he was deep in thought. You turned your eyes away quickly, suddenly embarrassed at his close proximity and his striking eyes fixated on you.
“I wish you would have,” he concluded finally and your eyes immediately shot to his. “I would’ve said yes. I’ll always say yes to you, [Y/N].” He added as a soft afterthought. As a tender observation that he wasn’t sure if he should be sharing. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze as if to reaffirm his words and you knew that you were a goner.
This time, it was your eyes that flickered to his lips. You were suddenly hyper aware of your senses and his overpowering cologne made you weak in the knees.
That night, you cursed profanities under your breath a second time after the dance was over because if you two hadn’t been swaying at the momentous occasion that was your deb ball, in front of hundreds of people, you would’ve kissed him. Right then and there.
_______________
“Steven’s going to kill you for eating the last of the blueberry ones,” you said with a giggle as you took a bite of your own muffin clutched in your hand, sitting in the passenger seat of Conrad’s car.
“Don’t worry about me,” he remarked playfully, with a small smile playing on his lips as he reached for the last blueberry muffin collected on your morning muffin run. “I’m going to blame it on you.”
You roll your eyes and hit him on the shoulder lightly as his grin grows bigger. His lips had turned a little blue from the blueberries in the muffin and you couldn’t help but turn away, feeling your heart grow heavy with how endearing everything about him was.
It had been a while since it had just been you and him, you and Conrad. Your eyes had still been groggy with sleep, your bedhead untamed when he had knocked on your door to ask if you wanted to go on a muffin run. Without thinking, you’d nodded at him with a smile and he’d told you to meet him outside in five.
And, driving with him, the windows down and the morning air crisp, you quickly found yourself lamenting how much you’d missed this.
You had been coming to Cousins for practically your whole life. That meant seeing Conrad was a given, a package deal. But the last few summers had been different, filled with strange tensions between you two that you could never seem to quell.
This, though, was different. Conrad, thankfully, wasn’t in one of his moods this morning and his playful jokes reminded you so much of the Conrad you used to know. It felt easy to talk to him, sitting there in his car and listening to music, parked by the seaside. It felt wholesome. It felt simple.
You were jolted out of your thoughts when you felt Conrad’s eyes on your face and you flushed as he smirked, as if you had just cracked the funniest joke he had ever heard.
“What?” you asked quickly.
“Nothing.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked again, suddenly trying to check if you had something on your face.
Before you could pull your phone out to open the front camera, he took your face in his hands and turned it to face him. He gingerly brought his other hand to your lips to wipe some residue chocolate off, left behind from your muffin, explaining, “You’ve got a chocolate mustache.”
The action had been simple, yet it set your body aflame. His calloused thumb, from years of sailing and football, rubbed against your lips and you were sure then that your cheeks would burn his other hand placed on your face.
And just like that, he was no longer looking at his hands on your lips. He instead brought his eyes to look into yours and the intensity of this moment – the intimacy of it – proved too much to bear.
“You have blue on your lips, too,” you tried to joke, trying to diffuse the tension but the effort was meager at best.
“Do I?” he had whispered absent mindedly, as if he hadn’t really heard what you had said at all. And if he was being honest, he hadn’t. Everything about you in this moment was distracting for him and he couldn’t focus on what you were saying even if he wanted to. His eyes were glued to your face – to every part of it. It was like he was looking at it for the first time and he wanted to burn every detail into his memory. He ran his thumb on your lip again before finding his voice, “[Y/N]?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I…?” he’d begun to ask before trailing off and with everything he had in him, brought his eyes to yours. “Please.” He begged breathlessly, as if he were a starving man and you were his last meal.
That was all the convincing you needed. Your head was spinning as you quickly brought a hand to his jaw and pulled him in over the center console of the car. Your lips met in a desperate, passionate clash and you breathed in sharply through your nose as you kissed him with all you had. His lips were soft against yours and his hands had a mind of their own as they took you in – all of you. Your hands quickly wound up around his neck, pulling him closer as one hand tugged slightly at his hair. Your noses brushed as your lips parted slightly, and Conrad was quick to deepen the kiss.
It was like you could feel his heart beating alongside yours and the feeling was enough to show you stars.
When you two finally pulled away, you were both reluctant to let go completely, sitting with your foreheads pressed, eyes closed, breath mingling together. Conrad had never been a religious guy, but in this moment, he couldn’t help but pray that he would get to do that again everyday for the rest of his life.
“Fucking finally,” he whispered as he opened his eyes to look at you with a dazed smile. You laughed as you nodded, at a loss for words. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ears before tucking a hand under your chin to pull you closer again.
“Your lips are still blue, you know,” you mumbled against his lips and felt him smile into you.
“Are they?” he smirked as he nipped at your bottom lip, before pulling away again to look at you. “Yours are too, now.” He replied smugly, leaning in again. It was your turn to smile into the kiss this time.
“Wait,” you said abruptly, pulling away. “Is this all a clever ploy to blame me for eating the last blueberry muffin?”
Conrad laughed at this and it was the first one of those loud, content laughs you had heard from him all summer. “Maybe. I guess you’ll never know,” his last words were muffled as he brought your lips to his smiling ones yet again.
And Steven did end up killing you that night… not because he thought you ate the last of the blueberry muffins, but because he saw you and Conrad making out on the living room couch. Much to his dismay, he was subjected to witnessing that quite frequently from thereon onwards.
And no amount of blueberry muffins could ever quiet the eardrum-crushing shriek he'd let out everytime he spotted it.
___________
tags: @gillybear17
#conrad fisher x y/n#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher x you#tsitp x reader#tsitp fanfic#conrad fisher#conrad x reader#conradfisher#tsitp imagine#conrad fisher fanfic#conrad fisher imagine#the summer i turned pretty fanfic
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