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bluebeary-jay · 10 months

Text

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!��

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out. It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel…

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel tlou #tlou hbo #btw i tried to do some research on tranquilizers and anesthesia drugs but i didn't find anything clear so. everything you read is made up #i could have wrote it better but.. eh #it was challenging enough and i can't believe i've spent almost a month on it

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chelseypprimrose · 10 months

Text

Jilted Ex-Lover / Negan x Reader / fiancésdad!Negan

Warnings ⚠️: unprotected sex, elements of rough sex, use of petnames, oral (fem receiving) not proof read yet.

Summary: After your fiancé leaves you high and dry on your wedding day, his dad comforts you in a way you didn’t ever expect.

A/N: I got burnt out to fuck writing this lol, writers block was strong on this one, hope you enjoy it all the same though, thank u for all the love on my other stories 🤍🫶🏼

“How the fuck could he do this to me?” You exclaimed, stomping down the hallway of the old manor house, the rooms still decorated in the victorian inspired decor you’d picked out months ago. Making it back to your bridal suite, you threw the doors open, reaching under your dress to get your uncomfortable heels off your feet, throwing them into the corner without a care. Your bridesmaids followed behind you, a couple on their phones trying to get in contact with your fiancé, or should you say ex-fiancé. You’d noticed he’d been getting jittery the closer the date got, not caring when you’d come to him for his opinions on the food menu or the DJ set list, him just humming along, his eyes still glued to his phone. You’d tried to push it to the back of your mind, chalking it up to just be cold feet, something that was common but when the day eventually arrived, it would all be fine. How foolish that was, on what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, the day you are meant to promise yourselves to one another, you’d been embarrassed in front of not only your friends and family, his as well. You kept replaying the moment over and over again in your head, the gasps of the wedding audience, hands going over their mouths in shock, the tears that entered your eyes and started to fall down your cheeks. He’d left you there at the alter, stuttering when it came to the all important question, running down the stairs, head held down as he rushed out of the door.

“So, what do you want to do Y/N? Everyone’s traveled here, everything is set downstairs.” One of the bridesmaids asked you, looking around at the others with a nervous look on her face, almost not wanting to ask you the question. You sighed, taking a hold of the crystal decanter that was on the dressing room table, using the ice tongs to place two cubes of ice in a matching whiskey glass, pouring a stiff drink. “You know what?” You laughed, taking the drink in one go. “Fuck him, there’s no chance I spent all this fucking money for everything to be cancelled. Tell everyone to head to the reception. We are continuing like this never happened.” Your bridesmaids started to text away on their phones, one looking up for a brief moment. “What about his family? Are they invited?” You looked towards her, a small smile on your face. “Of cause, I’m going to get some questions answered.”

You’d still changed into your reception dress, a long flowing silk white strapless number, you’d still had your first dance, just with your own father instead of your husband, a few fallen tears as you did, quickly wiped away. You’d had people coming up to you from both sides, what should have been congratulations became apologies and sympathies. You hadn’t heard from him since he ran away, the thought of somehow this being a dream now fully out of the picture. The beat of the cheesy classic wedding songs in the background, as you asked the bartender for another drink, passing your empty glass to them. Your nails tapped against the bar, looking around at everyone still enjoying themselves and dancing near the stage where the DJ was positioned. The bartender returned with your glass now full, a nod of appreciation as you took it.

“Drowning your sorrows, sweetheart? Can’t say I blame you.” You turned to look at where the voice came from, a small look of disapproval sat on your features. “Well, you have your own demon spawn to blame for that one, Mr Smith.” He let out a hearty chuckle, leaning on the bar top. You knew you shouldn’t be directing your anger at Negan, your fiancés father but you couldn’t help your feelings. You’d been racking your brain all day of how someone could think it was okay to completely abandon what was meant to be their life partner on the day of their wedding, knowing how embarrassing and disrespectful it was. “You really did a brilliant job of raising him, the fact he thinks that it’s morally better to absolutely embarrass me in front of everyone, he could have cancelled this before now, saved me the heartbreak.” You concluded, taking a sip of the wine from the glass. Negan looked at you with a guilty look on his face, his hand rubbing his face. “I’m so sorry doll, he never came to me with any of this, if I’d known he was going to do this, I would have shut that shit down, made sure he went about the right way to do it. That’s not the way I fucking raised him. It was a cowardly move.” You let out a sigh, you could tell from the way Negan was looking at you he was being completely truthful, you’d always got along, there would be no reason he wouldn’t have come to you with this, even if it meant going behind his sons back. “I know. Sorry, I just have a bit of resentment towards anyone associated to him at the moment, it isn’t your fault. Maybe just hit him in the face a couple times when you eventually find him.” You smiled, trying to lighten the mood for the moment before you cried again. He laughed at this, his arm leaving the bar to wrap around your waist in a gentle embrace. “Don’t worry doll, he’ll be getting an earful from me when I see him. I don’t like seeing your pretty face upset, especially not over some boy.” He pulled you close, his hand resting in place, you felt safe in Negan’s arms, a weird sensation coming over you, arousal? It was no secret that Negan was a good looking guy, anyone with a set of eyes could see how handsome he was, he had all the charm in the world to match as well. So suave, he held himself really well, almost a people person but wouldn’t take any shit from anyone. To be honest, there had always been some kind of silent attraction between the two of you, you’d noticed when his eyes had lingered on you for a little longer than was deemed socially appropriate, how he always seemed more relaxed in your company, when he’d bring you breakfast some mornings when he knew his son was away on business trips. He’d taken good care of you and welcomed you with open arms into the family, which caused the betrayal to sting more, you weren’t just losing a potential husband, you were losing a extended family relationship as well.

“Well if you would excuse me, I have to get back to people coming up to me and expressing their condolences, you’d think it was a funeral, not a wedding.” You slightly laughed, taking one last look in his eyes as you bid him farewell.

A couple hours later, after everyone had left, you found yourself in your suite, having taken your hair down from the intricate up do, having to weave out the small flowers that had been placed in the style and what felt like ten thousand bobby pins. Grabbing a quick shower, you’d put on a silk set with a short robe, what was meant to be your wedding night lingerie, another thing you’d spent a ton of money on that you didn’t want going to waste. You’d barely checked your phone through the night, looking at it now you hadn’t had any calls or texts from your estranged ex, concluding that was probably a good thing, not wanting to get upset thinking about it again. A loud knock at your door made you jump, throwing the soft duvet off your body as you made moves towards the door, a look of surprise at the person. “Hey doll, I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight, so…” Negan trailed off, raising the bottle of champagne and two flutes in his large hand. “Champagne? Aren’t you meant to drink that when you’re celebrating?” You questioned, cocking one hip to the side sarcastically with your eyebrow raised. “Well, depending on how you look at the situation, you could be celebrating the fact you don’t have to deal with a silly little boy anymore who can’t appreciate a good women in front of him?” You laughed, taking the bottle out of his hand, moving away from the door so he could enter the room. “Well, when you put it like that.” Negan shut the door behind you, taking a seat on the bed as he watched you pop open the bottle, pouring two glasses and handing him one. “To new beginnings?” You cheers with him, the glasses clinking together. “To new beginnings, doll. So what the plan from here? Weren’t you meant to be going on a honeymoon?” You huffed, you’d completely forgotten about your impending honeymoon, two weeks on your own sounded morbid. “I haven’t even thought about it, I forgot. Do you think it would be pathetic to go by myself? Maybe I can explain the situation and get refunded, I’ll just have to take the hit if not.” Negan smiled as he shook his head. “Nah, it’s not pathetic. Hell, you paid for the trip, you deserve the time away.” You nodded, taking a small sip of the champagne. “Yeah I guess, just don’t know how I feel about a solo trip, it will cause me to overthink everything and get upset.” You looked down at the ground, taking small steps until you were sat across from Negan on the bed.

“Did I do something wrong? I mean, am I really that insufferable that someone felt the need to run away from me? Is the idea of marrying me that bad?” You asked, the thoughts you’d tried to push down all day coming back to the surface, causing you to get emotional the more you fixated on it. “No doll, don’t think that shit. He royally screwed up on this one, there is absolutely no excuse to do what he did to someone, especially someone like you.” He moved to wrap his arms around you again, you leaning your head into his shoulder, your hand placed on his chest, you could feel his faint heartbeat on the surface. You sat for a short time, neither of you moving from the position you were in, savouring the moment. You looked up at Negan, those deep brown eyes of his almost staring into your soul. He glanced down at you as well, this unspeakable tension surrounding you both, he leant forward and began to kiss you, your eyes wide with shock. “Wha-what are you doing? Please don’t tell me this is some sort of pity kiss.” You asked, pulling slightly away from Negan as his hand began to the side of your face, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Of cause not, let me help you forget about that fucker. Doesn’t know a good women even though it’s staring him in the face. Let me make you feel good, doll.” You pulled him towards you, now capturing him in a feverish kiss, your hands exploring his neck, holding him tightly. “God please, help me forget.”

You moved to straddle Negan feeling him through the thin lingerie you had on as he met your kisses with just as much confidence as you. His tongue making quick work of turning your insides to jelly, moving to whip your robe off your body, making quick work of unclipping your bra as well. You took no notice of where the items of clothing landed, though you had a feeling you would regret that later. Your breasts now free, Negan took the liberty of exploring you, delighting in the arch of your back as he worked a nipple between his teeth. One hand was on your back, the other trying to work on getting your panties down. You stood for a moment, shedding the flimsy material off your body, Negan taking a moment to admire your curves, as you straddled him again; hot skin against hot skin. The sensation overwhelmed you, aching to have him inside you. “Fuck, you are perfect doll. So beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands now roaming your body.

He laid you down on the bed, your legs spreading to make room for him. He kissed your neck, gently nipping it as he worked his way down, more attention on your breasts. You knew what was coming but that still didn't prepare you for the sensation that came once his mouth made contact with your pussy. Your hips bucked, Negan using one hand to steady you. You still couldn’t believe you were actually going to have sex with your fiancés father, the ultimate fuck you. “Uh, Negan! Fuck, your mouth feels so good!”

He slowly slid two fingers inside of you, delighting in how slick and tight you were. He worked his fingers in and out, building a rhythm while still licking at your clit, causing you to moan out, your hands gripping the sheet below you. Before you knew it, you could feel the orgasm building inside of you, this is what you had been craving. Your fiancé could never give you pleasure like you were currently experiencing, never even going down on you really, always just chasing his own high. You’d missed the attention of a man who knew what he was doing and Negan definitely knew what he was doing. You thrust your hips forward, wanting to get as close to Negan as possible. He sped up his rhythm, his tongue continually flicking against you. You was close, so close. Your other hand was grabbing at his shoulder, leaving red marks underneath his shirt, where your nails dug in slightly.

“Fuck doll, you taste divine, so wet for me.” He whispered out, attaching his mouth back to you after. "I'm so close," you choked out, surprised at the fact that you could talk at all. "I'm going to come, Negan! Fuck! Don’t stop!” You moaned, gripping the sheet even tighter as your orgasm washed over your body. The muscles in your body contracted as you thrust toward him again. Negan continued to work your clit through your orgasm, sporadic moans leaving your lips as the wave of pleasure that rolled over you was unbelievable. You couldn't control anything, the waves subsided as you tried to relax your body. You loosened the grip that you had on his shoulder as he looked up at you, a confident grin on his face.

“You okay baby?” He asked softly, already knowing your answer. “Never better, I need you.” His hand caressed your breast again and down your body. He slid a finger into you, finding you to be wet and ready for him. Your hands explored his body again, practically ripping his suit down, exposing his shaft to you, it standing erect at attention. You ran your hand around the length of it, pleased to hear him moan as you did so. You pumped Negan’s cock a few more times, the pre cum oozing out of the top, causing your hand to become slick. You were nervous about Negan’s size, you’d never seen a more impressive cock. The way he stood over you as well, so manly and dominating. “You ready doll? You look so beautiful, so needy for me.” You could only nod, as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You moved to the top of the bed, propping yourself up on the soft pillows positioned there. You spread your legs a little wider as Negan slowly eased himself into you. “Oh fuck, you feel good.” You moaned as his entire length entered you.

He grabbed your legs, putting them up over his shoulders, allowing his cock to go even deeper. His hands gripped your thighs as he thrust himself into you at a faster, harder pace, almost taking your breath away. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, doll. Fits me perfectly.” he growled, reaching up and began tweaking one of your nipples. The sensation of Negan playing with your nipples, and fucking you relentlessly was almost more than you could take. You’d never been pleasured like this before, your other sexcapades being boring and too slow paced for you. You ran your nails down his still covered chest, the black blazer now disregarded by Negan, the crisp white shirt still on his frame, he looked so sexy in it. The thought that he just had to have you, he wasn’t even concerned about undressing made you feel so desirable. He leaned down and kissed you again, biting your lower lip in the process.

"Fuck me harder, please!” You moaned out, his lips now going to work on your neck, quickly finding your sensitive spots. Negan groaned appreciatively, speeding his rhythm up to meet your sordid demands. “Hang on, doll. I need to see that pretty ass of yours.” He slid himself out of your pussy and you whimpered at the loss of fullness you were feeling. He rolled you over, pulling your torso up so that your ass was in the air. He ran his hands over your ass, giving a slap to the supple skin, sliding himself back into your pussy. “Oh fuck yes, Negan!” You said happily, delighting in the new sensation, his cock hitting all the right spots deep inside you.

He rested his hands on your hips, thrusting hard into your pussy. He ran a hand over your ass again, raised it, and gave another hard slap. “Fuck! Do it again.” You begged, the dirty movements only increasing your pleasure. He raised his hand and smacked you again, his hand then running through your hair and pulling tightly on it, angling your head back. “Does that feel good, doll?” he asked. "Do you like that? Being such a good girl for me.” He praised you, his deep tone causing your body to light on fire. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah.” You managed to whimper out, the sound of your skin slapping against him as you met his thrusts. “You want me to do it again? Your ass is going to be red raw when I’m finished with you doll.” Negan whispered in your ear, continuing to thrust hard into your pussy. “Yes, please. Oh please!” You felt desperate, the pain mixed with pleasure was just too much for you to handle. “Beg for it, doll. Beg me.” he said, pulling your hair harder. “Oh fuck, please smack me again! Negan, you feel so fucking good inside me!” Negan kept slamming himself into you as he smacked your ass again.

"Fuck doll, I’m getting close, this pussy is heavenly.” he said a few minutes later, pumping your pussy hard. "Where’d you want me?”

"On my chest, all over me, please?” You requested, Negan thrusting faster as he chased his release. “You are a dirty fucking girl, you know that doll?” He pulled out of you, positioning yourself to the ground quickly as he leant just above you on his knees.

"Come on me baby, please! I need it.” you said, pushing your breasts up towards him with your inner arms, your hands grabbing his shaft, finishing him off. “Fuck yes, doll! You look amazing like that, so needy for my cum.” he choked out just before his climax hit him. Negan’s load came pulsating out, all over your chest, heavy breaths escaping both of you. You began to swipe his release on off your chest, sucking the salty taste off your fingers, his eyes locked on to the dirty sight in front of him, his face lighting up. He helped you up, back onto the bed, giving you another kiss as he did. “You want me to stay doll?” he asked.

You debated internally for a few moments. You knew that he should probably go, the thought of someone catching you in bed with your ex fiancés father, would cause many questions that you wanted to avoid, but when he looked at you with those eyes of his, you caved. How could you kick out the man who had just shattered your world in the space of a hour? “You can stay, I want a repeat performance in the morning.” You chuckled, wrapping yourselves within the sheets of the bed. “Really doll, he’s a fucking fool. His loss, my fucking gain.” He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, leaving small kisses on your forehead.

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ch4osworld · 2 months

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THE PASSENGER

Chapter 4

Word count:1124 @cherry-4200 @adaizel

Yeaaaah finally chapter 4! I hope you'd like this one. I actually managed to put more effort into it so yeah

"Ehy bitch!" Lucifer exclaimed, a nervous look clearly evident on his face. A few seconds have passed as she was announcing whatever she had to announce to him, in an instant his face contorted from an anxious one to a happy one "YOU ARE INVINTING ME TO SEE YOU. YES I'LL SEE YA THERE BYE I LOVE YOU" he ended the call, as he stared at you , eyes shining with excitement "MY DAUGHTER INVITED ME TO SEE HER Y/N! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!" He burst, going out of the pool and getting dressed "Yes, Luci, I heard you while you were on call you know?" You answered, following him outside "Do you want to come too? It's been a while since you saw her in person too, i am sure she'll be happy to see you" "No thank you, it would be good for you two to have some farther-daughter moment alone. I am fine just in here" "Are you sure? Come on you know you want to see her" he coaxed "I couldn't be more positive about it" "Well ok then, i'll see ya later" he finishes, giving you a smirk and kissing your hand as a final goodbye. Oh he was such a tease. You loved him so so much, you desperatly wanted to ask him out, but the ring on his finger was a constant reminder of the things you could have done there in heaven. If only you wouldn't have been so coward, maybe, just maybe, he would be yours now. You walked through the castle, the white of the walls contrasting perfectly with the f/c of your clothes, dirty of blood that you weren't able to wash away, a looming sensation watches over you, a feeling of sorrow drowned you, as you knew something would have happened to you, one day. Not that you could do something about it, but when that moments will come, may the root of all evil have mercy on you.

A finger traced on your arm, as your nail went deep into your flesh, almost scarlet blood flow to your hand. Your blood was a constant reminder of the holyness you were slowly losing the more you lived in this gruesome place. Even being free from the fruit of knowledge of good and evil couldn't save you from slowly corrupting yourself, as sin was spreading all over you. You wondered what would have happened if you decided to accept his offer, what would have happened if you ate the apple.

"Dear, don't you want free will?" "I have already free will, you're a fool if you think I would disobey God like this. What would this make me gain?" "You don't seem like having free will to me, come on, I never saw you doing anything you actually wanted to do" "oh yes you did, many times in fact, the only things I want to do is to submit to God and to obey my husband" "Or is it really? Do you know what this could give you?" "Enlighten me, Lucifer, isn't this what your name means?" "This could give you more than you already have. More sensations, more experiences. You've never felt the lust of the flesh, the feeling of shame, don't you want to be complete? Don't you want to feel whole?" "Such a foolish reason, i don't need lust, i don't need shame, i don't need more experiences" "You are so stubborn, that's what I like about you. I hope one day you'll be able to understand why i am doing this. Now i shall go, my dear, duties are waiting" he said, a kiss planted on your forehead. He was such a moron, that's why you loved him, if God knew what he was trying to make you do, and what he already made you do, oh the things that would happen to him. You wouldn't be able to bear it, no one shall ever know.

You reached the comfort of your bedroom, a single red eye watching over you. You glared back, coldly. You knew too well who that belonged to, you knew you would be her next victim, even so, you didn't dare to say a thing to Lucifer. You cared too much about him, you didn't want him to worry for you too, he had already enough problems. You laid back on your bed, the eye following your every movement as it was studying you, trying to decipher your every secret. A strong feeling of death engulfed you, the more the eye stared at you the more it amplified. After some minutes you got too anguished by it to continue to stay in there, you decided to exit and go into Lucifer's room instead, it wasn't far from yours. As you entered the first thing you noticed where the big piles of rubber ducks, two campturing your eyes. It was you and him, in a little duck version, how cute. You sat on his bed, looking at the photos hung on the walls, it was mostly him and his family, but right in the middle, there was a protrait of you. The first ever of the many there were made. He promised you he would have throw it away because you thought you looked ugly in it, yet he didn't. You remeber that when you shamefully showed it to him his eyes lit up, he said you were perfect. He was so sweet to you, still is. Maybe in a few months you'll be able to confess to him, maybe he loved you too. Yes, you were sure of it, you were going to declare your love to him, possibly before the next exetermination. As you were thinking about what you would do, you felt Lucifer coming to his room, he was back already? You managed to get out just in time, before seeing him with a worries expression on his face "Luci? What happened? Did something go wrong?" "It's just that, my daughter is going to go on a meeting with heaven and i am just so worried. You know how heaven can be" "Yes, i know, but she is a smart woman, i am sure she'll be able to handle it yeah?" "I guess your right, i hope she'll be fine..." "she will, don't worry" you finishes, inviting him to an embrace. He didn't think twice to ingulf you whole, taking out his wings to seclude you two from no one since you were alone. In that instant all your hollow thoughts were soon forgotten, as all you ever wanted, all you ever needed was here, in your arms. That's just all that matters, for words are unecessary, words can do more harm than there already is.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #fem!reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader

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marvel-starwarsfangirl · 1 month

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Why Crosshair Will Live

(aka an essay by a Crosshair girlie who loves her clone husband too much)

So, I've been thinking long and hard about the final season and how it could end. Obviously, it's gonna be an emotional rollercoaster and all that. However, there's always going to be discourse about who's gonna bite it, especially since our main characters don't have plot armor and this show is allowed to go way darker than Rebels. Crosshair is my favorite character and I don't hide that at all. He's all over my page. But looking at his character, there's a part of me that believes he actually might make it out in one piece. Let's get started!

"Redemption Equals Death"- Out of all the tropes, this is the one Crosshair embodies the most. He was the villain for a season, but now he's changing his ways. In past seasons, I would've said this is how his story ends. His brothers find him and Omega on Tantiss and he goes out protecting them, proving he deep down he still loved them. But after season 3, I don't think that's the case anymore. I think he's passed the point. Crosshair in season 3 is actively redeeming himself through his actions and words with his family and the other clones. We don't need to see him go out in some big self-sacrifice because we already see the person he truly is inside. More importantly, his family sees the person he's become. He's already proven it in so many ways. Crosshair openly admitted his mistakes, saved Hunter from the wyrm, is very protective of Omega, and saved his brothers, Omega, and Rex + Howzer from CX-2. At this point, Crosshair has passed the "redemption equals death" marker. His redemption is playing out and the people around him are seeing the changes.

His Character Arc- Crosshair's character arc has always been about loyalty and identity. Go all the way back to season 1 with the infamous "this is who I am" line and his whole spiel about the Batch not being loyal to him. "Aftermath" shows us this poor man already beginning to struggle. In season 2, Crosshair is going through every hurt no comfort fic trope in the book. This man was pushed to the brink, with every sense of his being questioned. And he almost didn't make it. Crosshair in "The Outpost" was so close to dying after trekking through the blizzard and shooting Nolan. He's suffered through so much already from being severely burnt to freezing, and now almost drowning. Pretty much half way through season 3 and Crosshair's trials aren't over. His hand is still bothering him and he's still trying to find himself.

Although Crosshair has made peace with his family, I believe he still needs to make peace with himself. He's been humbled sure, but there's more to go. Who is he if he isn't a soldier or sharpshooter? Crosshair's arc will probably finish with him realizing being a soldier isn't entirely who he is. His hand tremor still could be related to his internal conflict, we don't know. So far, he's doing a great job. We've seen Crosshair begin to find peace on Pabu and comfort with Omega. It would be so satisfying to see him make it out of this mess alive. My best BB ending would be him (and his brothers) alongside Omega retired somewhere. They have each other and that is enough.

His Poster and Theme- Crosshair is the only character as of right now in the Batch who has a separate poster for season 3. Not even Omega has a separate one (although I can see her getting one later). In fact, Omega shares her with Crosshair. Both are wearing their prison outfits, showing their shared situation and stand against a white/grey backdrop. We also see Cross gripping his right hand, referring to the issue he's having with it. However, he also has one of himself in the same golden lighting as his brothers. Crosshair stares at his helmet with a calm look on his face and appears to be contemplating. That has to mean something. From my POV, I get the sense he's wondering about who he is. Wouldn't it be a great ending if Cross finds himself and lives to see that self be happy?

He is also the only member of the Batch (Omega aside) to have his own theme/leitmotif. He has two actually: his Imperial one and his heroic one. His heroic theme aka the "Mayday" theme is stunning and highlights his struggle perfectly. You can actually hear it in season 1 fun fact but it's faint. The fact that he does have a separate poster and theme from the others does give me hope that he will make it. Not to say that the others aren't important, but something about Crosshair and his journey is very meaningful to have warranted this. You can argue that he shares the title of "heart of the show" to some degree because his arc is the most dynamic of all the Batch. His struggles and fight back towards the light truly raise this show to greatness.

Crosshair is also season 3's "Batcher of Year" award and so far, they're doing everything we wanted and more. For two whole seasons, his character has been building and building towards this season. And they better give us a great payoff. Crosshair's character going to continue to soar as the season progresses. I can definitely see him making it through to the end because of the focus on him.

Omega- how can we forget about the kid who never gave up on our grumpy sniper? Omega (and we can argue Cross to a lesser degree) is the heart of the show. She gives the Batch a new outlook on life and it is through her that they grow and change. Omega brings out the paternal and softer side in each of her brothers. Crosshair, however, takes a bit longer to get there. He's the only character whose main development happens away from Omega. When he finally gets home, he becomes Crossdad. But Omega is still a kid, despite her capabilities. If the other Batchers die, who will take care of her? Omega being on her own just doesn't feel right. We also know going off with Rex wouldn't feel satisfying either even though he would take really good care of her.

Now that Crosshair is back, it feels like the show is propping him up to take over Hunter's role. Hunter parented for 2 whole seasons. As the mentor figure, he might bite it. But wait! Crosshair is still here. There is no way the writers would just let Omega finish alone or get killed off. She will have someone with her. Crosshair, having spent the majority of the show away, will probably be the best candidate narratively speaking. As mentioned above, he gets two posters showing just how integral he is this season. He's also been getting a lot of screen time with Omega. So, I can definitely see the show ending with just the two of them left. It would be bittersweet, but still satisfying.

Disney- let's ask the question: would Disney kill off an entire family aside from their child? My best guess is no (this isn't a Disney movie with a prince to save the day). Tying into my last point, I can't see this family-friendly company letting a literal child lose her entire family and end up all alone in the end. We all saw Rogue One and we know that this is a plausible option. However, I'm beginning to think that they aren't gonna do that because again, Omega is a child. She's gonna hopefully have one, if not all, her brothers alongside her. And I swear, if they give her to someone else not named Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker, or Echo, I will blow a gasket. She needs her family. Disney and Star Wars is all about hope and it's not very hopeful to me if all of the BB but Omega dies.

Rebuttal- let's get this out of the way: if Cross dies, it will be with his brothers, protecting Omega, and defeating Hemlock. There is literally no other way he could go out that would be satisfying. He's redeemed and fought the Ghost of Crosshair's Future (aka CX-2). Backpedaling on his character arc would suck. If he dies, it will be as a Bad Batcher, a loving brother, and the best sniper the galaxy has ever seen.

But I don't think that will happen. I do genuinely think Crosshair has a chance to survive. But what do you guys think? Obviously, I'll still be nervous about the whole thing, but I'm trying here.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #please guys just let me have this #crosshair will live #im manifesting this right now #he will be ok #he and omega will be together #and all will be well #jennifer do you hear me #let's get our prayer circle and hold hands #tbb omega #tbb meta #tbb analysis

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catsfor2 · 1 year

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hit me, part 1.5 (bonussss!)

wc: 1.5k, largely unedited warnings: swearing/language, very very light talk of smut, drug use (alcohol) a/n: hi everyone. the feedback on part one made me so so happy that i wanted to drop this for ya'll. i hope u like it ;) tags: @elliewilliamsmunch@intrnetdoll@me-and-your-husband@3zae-zae3@milahnoz@elliescumm

For context, this chapter takes place 4 years before part one, or where *reader is 16 and Ellie is 19*.This part is simply to explore an interesting friendship dynamic, teenage sexuality, and some backstory to Ellie + reader.

*I do not condone underage relationships and there will be no insinuations, assumptions, or even words that would suggest Ellie being romantically interested in reader at this point considering their age gap.*

I know this makes it sound super serious but i PROMISE YOU its not. i had to put in a disclaimer simply for respect and safety reasons. enjoy!

-j

part 1

"'Natty Light'? What the hell is that?"

"It's beer," Ellie reassures you. "it's what the college folk drink. Want some?" She says, offering out the can in her hand.

"I think I'll wait until I become...college folk." You remark, unsure.

Ellie liked being around you. When your dumbass boyfriend wasn't trying drown you with his spit every six minutes. God, he's such a dick. Ellie couldn't wait for you to grow up and see the scum of the world without youth clouding your eyes. Scum not just including your boyfriend, obviously, but mainly him.

You sit on Ellie's bed, flipping your phone back and forth between your hands like you'd been doing the entire hour you've been here.

Ellie knew what that meant. It meant that he hadn't responded for a couple days, and you're just starting to get anxious about it.

Fucking. Dick.

"What do you do in college?" You ponder.

"Fuck girls, get high, get drunk, and maybe learn. Not sure." Ellie says mindlessly. She didn't see the point in college. Thought it was a waste of time and energy. She also didn't have the money to attend.

"Or at least, that's what I would do." Ellie finishes, snatching your phone from your hands.

She chugs around half of the can after she finishes talking, topping it off with a burp.

"Give it back, Ellie." You demand.

"Why? If he hasn't texted in four days he's not gonna start now."

Ellie regretted saying that almost immediately. Sometimes you seemed so...grown up. It was hard to censor herself around you. Especially when it's something she's been trying to tell you forever.

She sees your face fall, head turn swiftly towards her window. You liked how she had a bunch of sketches up there, and when the sun shined through it you'd always say it 'looked like all of her drawings were glowing'. Ellie smiled so hard when you'd said that. One million watts for sure.

Some of them were of her current girlfriend. Some of them of her ex-girlfriends. Some of them of Dina. All you really wanted was to see yourself up there.

You were too nervous around Ellie to ask her to do anything like that. Like drawing you.

"Y'know he wasn't that way in the beginning. I used to really...like him, I think." You mutter, still facing the window.

Ellie scoffs.

"You think?"

"I'm being serious, Ellie. It's like you don't listen to me cause you think you know everything. You're not even that much older than me."

"Oh yeah? What's a condom?" She asks, eyeing you.

You don't even say anything.

"So is that because you don't know? Or--"

"Shut the fuck up. Give me my phone back already." You huff, frustrated.

"Oooh shes swearing now?" Ellie teases. She watches as your face gets all pink as you get more irritated. You cross your arms hastily. It was fun to make you mad, Ellie thought.

"You should break up with Cat."

Uh, what?

"I'm sorry?" Ellie questions, less upbeat than she was a moment ago.

"I'm tired of you nagging me about my boyfriend. Cat's not very much better than he is. In my opinion."

"Christ, you sound like Joel," Ellie spits.

If there's one thing Ellie never expected from you, it was this. You usually never breached the subject of Ellie's love life. Ellie didn't mind not talking about it, she knew you weren't homophobic or anything. She just thought, honestly, that you were disinterested. So she never really...brings Cat up.

"If you can talk about my boyfriend than I can talk about Cat. It's...fair."

"It's fucking different. You don't get it."

"Why?! You always say that," You retort, sitting up a little taller on the bed. "Just—just because I'm dating a guy and you're dating a girl?"

"Yes. Literally, yes. It's fuckin' different, I don't know what else to say." Ellie remarks, throwing the can she emptied minutes ago onto the floor. She grabs a new can from the pack, cracking it open on the spot.

"Tell me, then." You say. "Tell me how it's different."

"Well, first of all, no dicks—"

"Ellie."

She huffs out a big sigh before starting again.

"I don't even—" She burps.

"I don't even know why you wanna know. And like, right now, of all times."

When Ellie asks you that, you freeze. Obviously, noticeably, freeze. Because, well, you didn't even know why you wanted to know. You just did.

"I—I just wanna know more about you, I guess." You stutter out.

Ellie's eyes narrow. Are you...nervous?

"I know he's not a good boyfriend. I know that, Ellie. You think I'm stupid and I'm not. But I can't break up with him."

Ellie still feels like that's total bull.

"Why not."

"I just can't! It's like—it feels, like, safer, to be with him."

"That guy is anything but fucking safe—"

"You know what I mean." You say quietly.

"No, I don't." Ellie says, trying to look into your eyes.

Your head was faced downward toward the bed. Ellie practically screamed through her thoughts. You couldn't even look at her. Had she been too mean to you? In Ellie's mind, it always feels lighthearted. She didn't always take the time to make sure other people took it that way.

Finally, you look up, meeting Ellie's eyes.

"You...don't? You don’t get what I mean?”

"No, y/n. I have zero fuckin' clue. Am I...supposed to?" She questions, clearly starting to get confused.

Safe? Safe? It feels safer?! Ellie was fucking lost.

How could being with that piece of shit feel any safer than being fucking alone?

"I—y'know what, nevermind. It's dumb. I don't even know what I mean. I just thought that you would get it—for some reason. It's stupid. Sorry." You mumble out, trying to forget whatever miniscule things you were telling her.

"Don't say sorry, you didn't even fuckin' do anything," Ellie quips. "Why me?"

"I don't know. I just...thought of...you." You trail off, rubbing at your shoulders.

Yeah, whatever you were talking about? It made you really fucking nervous.

"Hmm..." Ellie hums, hopping off of the bed and beginning to rummage through a desk drawer. "Here."

"...What."

"Would you like to hear the story of my first gay crush?" She grins, knowing absolutely that you'll want to hear.

She hops back onto the bed, sitting a little closer to you.

Ellie knew she was a good storyteller, but you were by far her best listener. It's endearing, how engaged you get. Never even daring to take a glance anywhere but at Ellie.

"So her name was Riley. And I was...youngish, but—I knew for sure that my feelings were...gay feelings, y'know?"

"Well how'd you know?" You ask bluntly.

"Well I wanted to like, hold her hand? And stuff? I wanted to...to take her places. Like, cool places I found outside, and like, dumb little lookout points. I'd draw her tiny pictures of things she liked. Write stupid little notes and shit. I would make her...bracelets and, things she could wear. Stuff that didn't really cost anything. I don't know...I just kinda...knew."

You don't respond. Your eyes are glossy, barely gazing at Ellie.

"Y/N, you good?" Ellie laughs, grabbing your shoulder and shaking it a bit to get your attention.

"Yeah! I'm fine, sorry. Got in my head a little."

"Right, right, wanna see somethin' stupid?" She says, awaiting your response.

"Sure."

She picks up the item she was rummaging for a minute ago. It's a post it note.

"Oh! Can I read it?" You beg, excited to see the parts of Ellie's life you're so unfamiliar with.

"Hah, yeah, go for it. I promise you it's...underwhelming." She hands you the blue paper, drawing side down.

You begin to read.

"You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen. I drew you a penguin wearing a hat that says, 'you are the prettiest…princess…ever'. Best wishes, Ellie." You smile without meaning to.

You give her the post-it note back.

"I wish I got notes like this. Do guys...do that?" You ask.

"Um, maybe some? I wouldn't know." Ellie admits.

She wanted to say no, y/n, no guy will do that until you get married, probably, because that was the truth. However, seeing how happy you were at somebody else's love note, she didn't have the heart to say it. Ellie didn't mind letting you be sheltered a little longer if it made you happy.

Before the two of you could say anything else, a phone chimes.

Your phone.

It's him.

"Oh thank god. Ellie, I have to call him. Can I call him? I'll be back in a second I swear," You ramble, basically sprinting out the door to talk to the meathead in your phone.

Fuck.

One day you'll grow up. Ellie knows this. She sees how you change every day. It still makes her feel funny to see you so...dishonest with yourself.

The day you break up with that dick is the day I fucking win, Ellie thinks.

And that day occurred exactly a week later.

After Ellie had already left.

#ellie fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x reader #lesbian #tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou fic #catsfor2

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fortisfilia · 2 months

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Promised Part 5 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, sickness

Word count: 2.8k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 4 | Part 6

Part 5 - Making believe

The news about your fight with Tom had spread across Hogwarts quicker than you had thought was possible. Three days had passed and you were sure even the teachers knew about it by now. And everyone seemed to know more about it than you did.

There were stories about you hexing Tom in the hallways, about him threatening you there, about you almost drowning yourself in the lake, about Benjamin trying to kiss you, about you trying to kiss Benjamin. The list was endless. None of it was true and why anyone even cared was a mystery.

The way people looked at you made you angry to a degree where you had to control yourself not to smack them. Your anger was also fueled by the fact that Tom had not apologised yet. Three days. Feeling as long as three years when the whole school seemed to watch your every move while you were waiting for your future husband to make up his mind.

Those two words alone made your blood boil. Future husband. Who certainly was the most conceited, hot-headed, mistrusting bastard on earth. Who you had agreed to marry for your sister. Who thought you would cheat on him, in this imaginary relationship, on the first chance you got. With Benjamin Hilt... Maybe he was also the daftest future husband on earth.

But nonetheless, you wondered far too often when he would finally walk up to you and apologise. You had even considered apologising to him just so you wouldn’t have to ignore him anymore. But that thought hadn’t lasted longer than a minute. He had to learn his lesson.

Tom’s friends seemed awfully aware as well. Although Avery and Lestrange stayed out of your way, some others made you feel like you were constantly observed. Almost as if they were his spies, telling him where he could go to avoid you. Tossers.

The only person keeping you sane was Camille. She knew the truth and shut down every rumour that came to her ears. She had also tried to talk to Tom, much to your dismay. But he had ignored her completely.

“Still no news on the fiancé front?” Camille asked when you sat with her in the courtyard.

“Don’t call him that,” you answered.

“Sorry,” she said but smiled. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you soon.”

“You think so? I’m not so sure. And I don’t really care.”

Camille laid her hand on your shoulder. “You don’t care, huh?”

“I don’t.”

“Oh well… You talk about it an awful lot for someone who doesn’t.”

“You started it this time,” you grinned. Changing the subject seemed appropriate. She was right. “Do you want to study together around 5? In the library?”

“Sure. I still haven’t done the homework for Charms.”

“Me neither.”

You watched the people around the courtyard. They looked comfortable. Cosy with their scarves on. Carefree, wandering around and talking to their friends. It made you wonder if you looked like them too, or if they could see how bitter you felt. How uncomfortable and tired. If your poor attempt at faking indifference was enough to deceive them.

The bench where you sat with Tom three days ago was right next to you. You had specifically chosen not to sit there but at the one next to it. Not that anyone had a clue, not even Camille knew which exact bench it was. But it felt good to avoid it.

One of Tom’s friends, Evan Rosier, walked by. Another spy, another rat, running back to the nest, to tell him where not to go. He locked eyes with you for a brief moment but retracted ever so quickly and went inside.

“It’s cold,” Camille said and pulled your gaze away from the other students. She rubbed her hands together and crossed her arms. “Want to leave?”

“Just a few more minutes,” you said and took a deep breath. The cold air didn’t hurt. It was sharp and fresh, it kept you awake.

“Okay,” she answered and laid her head on your shoulder. “Look, Ben and his friends are over there.”

They sat on the ground next to the stone walls, about fifty feet away. They didn’t seem cold either. Some of them had their coats open, their scarves only hanging down loosely from their necks.

“They’re strange,” you mumbled.

“I know, right? Like outcasts. But cool ones.”

“Cool? I’m not sure about that.”

Camille laughed. “I don’t know. They seem so happy all the time. As if nothing mattered to them really.”

“If that was true, Ben would know how to mind his own business.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You turned your head away from them, looking to your left where you heard footsteps coming your way. And indeed, someone was approaching you. The person’s shoes seemed oddly familiar and all your muscles tensed when you looked up and found out who they belonged to. Tom.

Camille noticed your movements and raised her head. Tom stopped in front of you, not saying anything, just looking from you to Camille and back to you. She nudged your waist, silently asking what to do and a small nod was enough for her to understand.

“I, um,” Camille cleared her throat. “I think I’m going to go inside. I’m freezing. I’ll see you in the library at 5.”

You said your goodbyes, watched her leave, then looked up at Tom again and waited for him to say something. But he didn’t. He just looked back at you, or through you maybe, until he finally took a seat beside you.

He sat there, staring straight ahead in silence, even though you gave him every chance to speak. The wind tousled his hair in those everlasting minutes of curiosity. What was he doing here, if he didn’t want to talk?

People around you had noticed as well. They were looking over in turns and proceeded to whisper to each other. Like you wouldn’t notice.

“I have something for you,” Tom suddenly said and fiddled something out of the inner pocket of his coat. “My grandfather sent an owl.”

Seriously? Three days of silence and he came up to present you a letter? From Marvolo Gaunt of all people. The nerve of him.

“And?” you asked.

“And what?”

“Don’t you think you should say something first? Like an apology?”

He sighed and looked away again. As if he had known you wouldn’t let him get away with it. As if he had dreaded that moment.

“Yes,” he then said, so quietly you could hardly hear him. “I’m sorry for how I behaved. That I haven’t trusted you and that I didn’t let you speak.”

He looked like it hurt him physically to apologise. But it wasn’t enough.

You turned towards him, watching him staring into the distance. “Now look me in the eyes and say it again.”

Tom turned his head your way, his brows furrowed, eyes looking into yours, filled with such anger, making you regret what you had said. You couldn’t tell if he would rather stand up and leave, or curse you right then and there for what you asked of him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated nevertheless.

“Thank you,” you answered and wondered if you should comment on how long it had taken him. Better not.

Tom pointed to the letter in your hands. “Now read it.”

The parchment was old and smelled damp and mouldy.

“Tom,

I was informed by an unknown source that people at Hogwarts are doubting the authenticity of your relationship with your fiancée.

Someone sent a letter and implied they would notify the ministry about it if we wouldn’t cancel the wedding ourselves.

Let me remind you two, that our plan must go through. If it won’t, the little one will pay for it. Make her wear the ring if you must. And don’t mistake this for a gift, I want it back eventually.

Improve.

Marvolo Gaunt”

Breathing felt harder all of a sudden. There was a lump in your throat that burned and stung right down into your lungs. If the ministry would doubt the validity of your relationship, they could definitely null and void the marriage before it even happened. Which would be fatal.

“Merlin’s sake,” you sighed. “Who would do that? Threaten your grandfather...”

“You don’t know?” Tom asked and looked over to the group where Ben sat. “I got a suspect.”

“Of course… And what are we going to do about it?”

Tom took the letter and folded it back together, not taking his eyes off Ben. “Let me handle him.”

“What will you do?”

“Nothing too bad,” he said. “Possibly.”

He Put the letter back into his coat pocket and pulled something else out of it, then opened up his hand, showing off the ring Marvolo must have written about. It was a gold band, inset with a black stone. Engraved on the stone was a strange symbol - a triangle with a circle inside of it and a straight line in its centre. “Put this on,” Tom instructed. “And wear it for people to see. It should suffice as an engagement ring.”

He slipped it onto your left ring finger quickly, his fingers brushing over yours for only a moment. An unceremonial act that would have made you laugh if the situation weren’t so dire. “I’ve never seen a ring like this.”

“It’s a family heirloom from the house of Gaunt and the Peverell’s,” he explained. “Marvolo wouldn't want you to know that. It's one of a kind. And very valuable.”

“That’s why he wants it back,” you concluded.

Tom nodded.

“And how does Marvolo expect us to improve?” you asked. “We can’t change what people think about us.”

“Make them believe. It’s not that hard to fool people.”

He was right. Tom might have been a prick, but he certainly wasn’t a fool. If rumours about your fight spread so quickly, rumours about you making peace would spread even faster.

“Hold my hand,” you said.

“What?”

“We have to make them believe. Better start right away. There are lots of people around. Maybe we can even trick Ben and his friends.”

He restrained for quite a bit, then ever so slowly reached for your hand, not looking at you. His skin was warm from being inside, almost hot against yours and he felt stiff and mechanical, as if he didn’t know how to behave or was repulsed even by this minimal contact. It was uncomfortable, having your hand lying in someone else’s, who didn’t really hold it but simply let it lay there.

You adjusted your fingers and put them right against his, which made him turn towards you. His pulse pumped softly against the tips of your fingers. It was faster than you had thought and made you smile. Tom didn’t. But he looked at you, differently.

His brows weren’t furrowed anymore, the anger from before completely washed away. His eyes were open, studying your face with a deadpan stare until he squinted.

“You’re cold,” he said and brought his other hand around the back of yours, now properly holding it with both of his.

“I’ve been here for a bit,” you told him and looked around, letting his unfamiliar warmth spread through your veins. “I think it’s working.”

“Hm?”

“The people. They’re watching.”

Tom took a glance, his fingers twitching as he did. The other students turned away one by one when his gaze neared them. Even Ben and his friends had noticed but ducked their heads now too.

Making people believe was easier than expected.

“And he really held your hand? Wow. Even I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Camille whispered when you told her about what had happened.

“I know, me neither,” you said while opening the Charms textbook.

“And I wasn’t there to see it. Damn it. I knew I should have peeked around a corner.”

“Gross,” you joked and looked around if anyone could hear you.

The library was quite full, but you had found a desk at the far end, where no one would bug the two of you.

Studying with Camille was, as unbelievable as it may sound, one of the best parts of school. It brought tranquillity and effect together. Feeding your brain with new information and sharing it with one another was a sensation you got nowhere else. No matter how dry, or tricky the material was, you had always found a way to remember. You were great together. Balanced. And she brought chocolate, every time. Major plus.

It had gotten dark outside a while ago when you finished the Charms essay. Only then you noticed how tired your eyes were from the dim light. Camille had completed hers two chocolate bars ago and was waiting for you by the window.

“Done,” you sighed. “Finally.”

“Great. Let’s go then,” she said and started packing up her things.

“I haven’t proofread.”

“Oh,” Camille nodded and teetered from one foot to another.

“But you can go. Really. You’ve already waited for so long. I’ll just read it again and then I’m off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Somewhere you need to go?”

“The loo,” she whispered and you laughed.

“Then run!”

You rubbed your eyes and folded the parchment flat out under your hands. One more read-through and you were done. It was even quieter around you, now that Camille had left. The only things you heard were the librarian’s steps, as she tiptoed through the rows every now and then, and some quills scratching on paper from afar. It was a hypnotic silence, that made it easier to read. So easy, you didn’t even notice someone walking up to you.

The sound of the chair next to you screeching lightly over the floor was so startling, you almost knocked over your inkwell.

“Merlin’s sake,” you whispered as you screwed down the small bottle. “You can’t creep up on me like that. Almost ruined my essay.”

“Pardon me,” Tom said. “Who could have thought people had to be quiet in a library?”

You shot him a look to prevent yourself from telling him to keep his cocky jokes to himself. “What are you doing?”

He opened up a book, giving you the same look in return as if to say, what do you think people do in here. “Reading.”

“Alright then,” you said and leaned over your parchment again.

Just a few more pages. But suddenly the words you had written didn’t make sense anymore. You had to read each sentence twice, to even understand what they meant. And you were awfully aware of your breathing. Tom made you nervous.

It took you twice as long to read one page and the fact that you watched him from the corner of your eye every other moment didn’t help.

Concentrate. Forget he’s even here. You had eventually found somewhat of a rhythm again, laying one paper aside, when Tom touched your hand.

You automatically jolted and looked over to him. He was still reading his book, now holding your hand firmer, more proper than earlier that day. It seemed like he wanted to finish this particular paragraph before he looked back at you. And the blank expression on his face said more than ever before. It was a mix between him waiting for you to pull away and simultaneously telling you not to dare to move.

It was the same silence, the same tension that occurred when he had come for dinner at your house, when you were alone in the dining room with him. But yet, it felt so different.

So you held him, too. Quietly. Still staring at him. While no one spoke a word.

Your fingers folded along the back of his hand perfectly, like they were meant to be there.

And then, he moved. His thumb swayed back and forth across your skin, so lightly you could barely even sense it. So softly, as though he was scared it could hurt and break you. His eyes were fixated on you. He studied every breath, every flutter of your eyelashes, every muscle moving in reaction to his touch.

And there it was. Something different in his eyes. Something more than the notorious apathy. A spark, a tiny hint of what you would call emotion.

Something you had never seen on him. It suited him well. So you let him feast on it. For forever if he asked you to.

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 6

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lonesome-sometimes · 22 days

Text

wheels on the bus

I promise I don’t have a thing for matty being a married man this was just a very real experience for me minus most of it

suddenly a man climbs on and interrupts, giving a series of apologies to both the driver and the people he kept waiting. you would be annoyed if he wasn’t so hot, tight black jumper and unruly curls sitting on his head like a halo. suddenly, the woman from before is waving him down towards the back of the bus and your heart sinks.

that’s her fucking husband?

matty healy x female reader

content warnings: face fucking, sub matty, teasing, semi-public sex, cheating, age gap

minors do not interact!

If you knew that you would be stuck on a bus for as long as you were, you wouldn’t have even bothered travelling but the world seemed to hate you that day and was throwing every possible obstacle towards you.

luckily for you, the seat next to you had managed to stay empty for most of the trip which was always a blessing. you were pulling into the second stop of the journey when you quickly realised that was about to come to an end, the queue far too long with too little seats left.

you force yourself to seem as unapproachable as possible when you feel someone tap your shoulder, turning to see a dark haired woman smiling at you almost condescendingly. you pull one side of your headphones to the side so it sits behind your ear, still looking at her dumbfounded. you weren’t in the mood, your day had been long enough.

“Is it okay if my husband sits here? he’s coming now, he just is putting our bags away but I’m going to sit in front of this seat and I want to be able to sit near him. my husband won’t be a bother-“ every word went in one ear and out of the other, the word husband suddenly becoming the worst word in the entire dictionary and the shiny diamond on her finger painfully obvious. how charming.

you nod, turning your body and sliding your headphones back on for the simple pleasure of drowning out most of the noise of the other passengers, your music staying paused. the driver stands up, a tall man who seemed far too young and cool looking to be stuck driving some bus on a saturday. “I know this situation isn’t really ideal for anybody, but I promise to speed and get you all where you need to be. please just shout at me if you need anything, my name is george and-“ suddenly a man climbs on and interrupts, giving a series of apologies to both the driver and the people he kept waiting. you would be annoyed, feeling deserving of an apology to if he wasn’t so hot, tight black jumper and unruly curls sitting on his head like a halo. you turn your attention to the woman from before, waving him down towards the back of the bus and your heart sinks.

that’s her fucking husband?

his face lights up at the sight of her, making his way down towards where the empty seat is and sliding down next to you. he shoots you a quick, kind smile before turning his full attention to his wife to your dismay, leaning over the top of her seat and stroking her hair. the whole situation was just sad really, he was far too good for her but you can see why she was so obsessed with using the word husband beforehand.

you were in for the hardest two hours of your life.

you couldn’t even focus on your music, abandoning it all together and hour into the drive in favour of hearing his hushed voice instead. he was currently resting his chin on the top of her seat, eyes crinkling as he smiled at something she said. he pushed a hand through his hair, the sleeves of his jumper pushing up slightly to reveal some tattoos on his wrists causing your eyes to widen, becoming curious as to how many tattoos he had and where.

another hour of torture goes by, the man next to you seeming to be so sickly in love that it started to make you somewhat mad. he was fully leaning around her seat now, his face close to hers as they talked quietly. you decided to just try and ignore them alltogether, reopening spotify when you hear him speak.

“radiohead? great choice! I didn’t know they were still popular with the kids these days.” you turn to see him smiling at you, not even realising he had moved and being absolutely dumbfounded that he’s suddenly speaking to you. he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck causing you to notice the crinkles by his eyes for the first time. “god, that makes me sound so old doesn’t it? sorry I wasn’t meaning to bother you-“

“no!” you suddenly exclaim, realising how crazy you sounded. you regain your composure, side eyeing his wife who was not in her seat. he must notice your curiosity because he speaks up again. “we’re stopping for a bathroom break, the kids on board must have been pissing the driver off, do you want me to move?” he attempts to stand but you grab his wrist, pulling him back down.

“I’m good, thank you for letting me know.” you try and sound as sweet as possible, smiling softly while rubbing the soft material of his jumper between your fingertips. “you’re not bothering me at all, you’re actually the first person I’ve spoke to all day.”

he looks down at your hand on his jumper and you swear you see a blush spread across his face, a stray curl falling forward as he does. you start feeling a little lightheaded, almost letting your thoughts get the better of you. you drop his jumper, moving to push the curl back away from his face but he moves too suddenly, shaking his head to organise his thoughts.

you turn to see his wife climbing back on the bus, that condescending smile from before returning as she sees you both. they start chatting again, forcing you to return back to your petty mood and making a show of it, crossing your arms and letting your music flow through your ears. you through two minutes of karma police before you physically cannot take it anymore, pulling your headphones off and turning to the couple next to you.

“I’m so sorry if I’m overstepping, but you guys are just so cute together. how long have you been married?” you smile too wide to be genuine, voice sickly sweet as your attention focuses solely on the man. his wife leans around her seat and looks at you like you had offended her, but takes the opportunity to obsess over the word husband once more.

“well my husband and I have actually been married for about three years, is that right matty? I think so.” she smiles at him, playing with his fingers awaiting his answer. you don’t really care what she has to say, the name matty bouncing around your brain and how it would sound coming off of your tongue. he continues to look at you, completely taken back by your boldness before clearing his throat.

“yeah we erm, we have been married a while now. we actually just got back from our two year anniversary vacation, you should know that darling.” he speaks to her, almost seeming sad that she had forgotten. she just laughs, announcing that milestones mean nothing so long as she has him. you could almost feel your eyes rolling back into your head and not in the way you were imagining.

he smiles awkwardly at you. they went back to talking between themselves, your brain racing with ideas and images. you think for a little while, coming up with a truly awful plan. you had found something you wanted and with the day you were having you deserved some excitement.

you wait a few minutes, waiting for the right moment before beginning. “I’m sorry, I just need to grab my charger in my bag. I’ll just-“ you stand up, causing matty and his wife to stop talking and look up at you as you begin to climb over his legs. you silently thank the driver for suddenly going over a bump in the road, causing you to trip and fall directly into his lap.

his hands fly up out of instinct, grabbing your waist and holding you there for a moment. you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing up against you, moving so your hips grind down on him as you stand up again. “god, matty! I am so sorry! I lost my balance, I’ll just grab my charger and I’ll stop being a bother, again I’m so sorry to interrupt.” you lie through your teeth, reaching up to grab your charger out of your bag in the overhead compartment while making sure your tshirt rides up directly in front of his face, exposing your lower stomach and a strip of your lace underwear that was hidden beneath your pants. you pretend to look for your charger for a good few minutes, giving him a show as you did.

you eventually find what you were looking for, making eye contact with him as you climb back over into your seat. you bite your lip as you look down at his crotch, the bulge more prominent than before. you feel powerful, causing a married man to fold at practically nothing.

you get comfortable again, scrolling through instagram when he suddenly speaks for the first time in the last twenty minutes. “god, when did it get so fucking hot in here?” he laughs sheepishly again, pulling his jumper over his head and shoving it in his lap to cover up his problem.

granting you your wish, you could finally see the wrist tattoos from before as well as the many others. his arms were toned, covered in artwork that looked so beautiful and hot at the same time. his curls had become messy through his hands constantly playing with it and the jumper being pulled over.

the bus keeps driving for another ten minutes, the longest ten minutes of both yours and his life, before pulling in at another service station. george stands up, announcing that the bus would be here for thirty minutes and that if you weren’t back in time he would drive off and leave you, causing the kids at the front who must be driving him mad to giggle and pull faces.

matty suddenly stands up, announcing to his wife that he was running to the bathroom and to grab them both a snack, urging her to stay there. perfect.

you let him get a five minute head start before standing up, not even acknowledging the woman as you make your way off the bus and towards the bathrooms where you see matty push the door open. you rush after him, causing the the door to fly open. you both stand in the middle of the service station bathroom, the tension thick and heavy in the air.

he swallows, rubbing his arm and avoiding your eyes as he speaks up first. “can…can I help you?” he asks, his voice coming out strained and broken which only causes you to giggle. you move further into the room, crowding him up against the tiled wall.

“I’m not sure matty, can I help you at all?” you smirk, lips so close to his own as you speak you could feel the shaky breaths on your face. he swallows again, eyes avoiding yours as he shakes his head.

“I’m married, I shouldn’t be…” he trails off as you push your body up against his, cocking your head to the side as you lick your lips and grab the shape of his cock through his pants. he lets out a breath, relaxing against the wall as you start stroking him through the fabric softly. interesting.

“I’m sorry, you were saying?” you ask innocently, knowing what you were doing by now, the effect you were having on him. he closes his eyes, letting his head hit the tile with a thud before he looks down at you through his lashes. up close, he’s so much prettier than you had realised. you wanted to ruin him and have him ruin you at the same time.

“please.” he breathes out, taking you by surprise as he pushes his hips up until your hand and parts his lips. “please just touch me.” he begs, and how could you say no to that?

you move your head and steal his lips in a soft kiss, his lips parting instantly and letting you control the situation. this isn’t what you were picturing when he first stepped onto the bus, but after the mood you had been in you can’t say you’re unsatisfied with the turn of events. you move to unzip his trousers, shoving them down his legs and pulling his cock out of his underwear.

fucking hell. you weren’t expecting that.

he breaths are heavy, eyes wide as he waits patiently for you to do something. you think for a moment, deciding what you want to do with the little time you had. you started mouthing at his jaw being careful not to leave any marks to save him some face, his neck and down his torso until you’re forced to get on your knees so that you’re face to face with his leaking cock.

he leans his head back against the wall again, his hands finding refuge in your hair as he lets out a choked moan at the sight of you on your knees for him. If only you had more time, you’d spend hours torturing him, his sweet breathy moans quickly becoming your favourite sound.

that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun right now.

“I thought you were married, hm? your poor little wife, sitting on that bus completely unaware that her husband of two years is letting a young, innocent girl get him off. don’t you feel bad?” you tease, lips ghosting the tip of his cock as you speak. he quickly shakes his head, hands moving from your hair to form fists at his sides.

“she…she doesn’t do this for me. we haven’t even…just please?” he begs, his revelation music to your ears. “you don’t know how long it’s been since I…she won’t have sex with me, something to do with-“ he moans as you wrap your lips around his cock, letting the weight of it sit on your tongue as you savour the taste.

you slap his thigh lightly, a silent order for him to keep speaking as you start to suck his cock slowly. “oh fuck, something to do with staying pure…an act of celibacy or some bullshit but I really do love her, I promise.” he continues, emphasising the really with a thrust of his hips, causing his cock to hit the back of your throat, fluttering around him as he whines.

you pull off his length with a pop, lipgloss smeared around the tip of it as you work him with your hand. “that’s such a shame, you’re far too pretty for that. you sound so sweet. If only you were mine, I’d do so much to you.” you lick away precum that had gathered at his tip again, kissing it softly and pulling back again. “hm, how about I let you fuck my throat, since you’ve been such a good boy for me? you deserve to use me, no need to be shy.” you wink, moving your arms behind your back and letting your lips fall open and ready.

he stares at you, completely taken back by what you just offered. he lets himself think for a moment, about the morality of the situation, before shaking his head and grabbing his cock again and shoving it past your lips. clearly deciding that there was no time for questioning his moral compass as he moans loudly, feeling more free as he begins to fuck your throat. he picks up his pace, holding your hair as he whispers sweet nothings like you’re so good for me and so much better than she could ever be, even going as far as to wipe away the tears that had formed around your eyes and saying please don’t cry, you’re too pretty baby, I’m sorry

his hips begin to stutter, a sign that he’s almost there. “please, please let me cum down your throat, I need to cum please let me-” he begs through broken sobs, waiting for a nod of your head before he’s spilling down your throat, his groans echoing around the empty bathroom.

you pull off his cock, his body slumped against the wall as you show him your white covered tongue, swallowing his cum only causing him to moan again. he was such a boy, and you couldn’t really blame him considering what he had just told you. you decide to be nice, tucking him back into his underwear and pulling his pants back up his legs, going as far as to button them back up for him and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I genuinely don’t think I can move away from this wall.” he admits, blush creeping up his cheeks again as he brings his thumb up to wipe the smeared lipgloss from your face. “thank you for that, and I erm…fuck, I’m sorry? I feel bad that I didn’t-” he says, gesturing towards you.

you shake your head and smile, giggling softly. “don’t worry about me, it seems like you have enough to deal with.”

“you could say that.” he laughs back, checking the time on his watch and letting out a sigh of relief to see that you still had five minutes before you really needed to be back, knowing his kind, thoughtful wife would hold the bus up if needs be. “we still have five minutes, if you really want me to do anything?”

you shake your head again, pulling his hand up into yours and playing with his fingers the same way his wife had done on the bus not long ago, sliding his wedding ring off and on. “I think I’d rather learn more about you? If that’s okay?”

he smiles down at you again and nods, eyes crinkling as he says “well I never actually got to talk to you about radiohead…”

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hail-brod · 3 months

Text

A Chance and Beyond (6)

Previous chapter: (Chapter 5)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Loki x FReader

A/N: Yes, 2 weeks delay. Again. I guess that's gonna be my new sched if it gets too busy.

Listening to a Norwegian folk song made this even fun to write. Man, I love upbeat folk songs. (edit:) Just figured the song's about a man in love with a woman who's betrothed to another man (note at the end of chap). It fits sm for a certain god here ehem ehem—or just in general lmao. The coincidences in life mah man.

(Ok, this is honestly my fav chap.)

Please enjoy and tell me your thoughts! ><

Warning/s: Light angst, drinking, being alcoholic to a viking level, mead, a bit of self deprecation?, mention of missing body part, nothing else probably (please tell me if I missed something!)

WC: 4.4k

Just some Viking activities at the edge of a cliff. Or like they say in Midgard, 'Let's parteyyy. Hit it, Freddie!'. In which you spin around like a record baby, right round, round, round.

When nightfall came, it didn't take long for everyone to start drinking as early as they can.

Instead of the usual drinking horn tankard, metal mugs clinked at each other, along with the merry cheers of wobbly ballads clashing in every chatter. Half an hour in when the sun had set down, there we're already drunk men dancing with their sons and daughters, mothers mingling with their husbands, and people gobbling down roasted meat. And on the center of it all stands the grand lit bonfire that sheltered light to the smiles of every person. You can hear the crackling and bursting flames joining the fun of your kin's roaring laughs, its shadows flickering like a raves' night befitting the dances of the other asgardians.

Just like you remembered when you we're in your early days in Vanaheim and your home-world, bonfire feasts are always a celebration never to be missed.

It almost feels like you've never truly left Asgard...

But of course, what is a night's feast without a pleasant conversation? Because when you sprung your eyes at a certain young prince being entertained by a woman offering him a mead—with a smile that you're consequently aware is intended to be suggestive, you've never felt so pleasant in your whole life.

No, you we're not glaring at the ground. No, you we're not burning a stare at the said woman. No, you we're not sulking on your wooden seat.

No, not at all.

You decided to just let yourself drown in the company of your mead, gulping it for ten straight seconds. That should do it, you think. not enough to do me in though. And in all honesty, you think of the truth. You we're never the first one to fall in in a drunken state; for as much as the people underestimate you at these things, they always lose when they challenge you so.

Maybe it runs in the family since, well, they we're almost as tolerant as you do.

But you honestly wish right now that you weren't.

You can see Loki giving out a pleasant laugh at the woman, mead weighing down on his hand as he mentioned something to her, making her shrug tentatively in a coy manner. You also soon noticed a few women eyeing Loki, both in hesitation and....desire?

Wait, what?

"Oh, mine brother! Finally, a flock of women ogling at him rather than me." Thor's voice pulls you out of your brief bewilderment as he made himself comfortable beside you. "You see, I knew he'd gain recognition amongst our people after that final battle in Asgard. I'm very proud I've proven him right, hah!"

Oh. "That's...good." you comment, trying not to let your displeasure lace out. "Does your people hate him, before all of this?"

"Hate, you say?" he says, eyes shifting to a light grimness. "My brother is many things and thus he makes many...'decisions'. Very various different ones. I wouldn't want to tell you that he was hated but, he had proven to our people that he should be. Alas, he has change their minds." he lifts up his mug over the form of his brother, who's now talking to a different woman, but you do notice his attention is placed on the singing men near the bonfire.

He has indeed.

Though, you let yourself deviate to something else now that you remembered. Some things are left to be asked later, such as, the voice in your room—well, if you ever find the chance, that is. Or if you'd even open up the courage to.

"Did...Did Loki actually vouch for me after the interrogation?" you asked.

Thor widened his eyes followed by a nervous laugh. "W-Whatever do you mean, my lady?"

"It's okay, I'm aware of your little 'spying'."

"Oh." he lets out, eyes darting back and forth between his brother and you. "Well, odd it was, but kind of him I guess. He may act stingy but there's a softness in there, and it seems like he's taken by you."

You raised a brow at that. "I doubt that. He looks rather keen on avoiding me." you say, though, the thought of him being taken by you feels a tad bit nice.

He eyes you in wonder. "Does that irk you?"

"What? Of course not. I'm- merely curious."

"Hmm," he hums, but you can almost mistake it for a scoff. "of course, curious. You know, I never got to ask you if you're somehow well acquainted with my brother in your....universe? Or was it timeline? Either of those."

You freeze, there's a sudden feeling of déjà vu. "What...makes you think that we are?"

"Ah, that my friend, that I can see." he answered. "It may not be my specialty but I can tell if someone is at least taken by someone."

Right, your mind echos. he has a flock of women over him. Your past self is certainly a proof of that.

Well, some things would've been actually different if he had learned your fascination towards him back in your Asgard. Actually, not some but everything. Because if he did, you would never be here. You would have never created that bloody Nexus event. You would have never learned about how much dominance time rules over countless of universes.

"No, because you we're meant to fall for Thor." the imposing judge towering in front of you says after stating your name. "Not his brother, not anyone. The moment you recognized your feelings on the wrong person, god, brother—whatever you call him—is when you're taken out of the equation. Pretty common mistakes of your variants, apparently. Don't force it, miss. It doesn't always end well for both you and..." she reads down on the file and mocked a smile at you. "...the 'Loki Laufeyson.'"

The past TVA made it sure to shove it on your own reality that you we're the problem for falling for the younger prince. Somehow, you're feeling sorry for doing so, for dooming your home. But you also truly don't want to regret it

You won't.

The TVA doesn't have the right to dictate that. Not anymore.

"Are you insinuating that I'm openly swooning over your brother?" you asked, playing along with him.

He laughs. "Bin-gow." you're quite sure its supposed to be 'bingo'. "I've first noticed you we're very tolerant of his antics, which many not do, so I guess I can assume."

"I'm certain I don't swoon when I'm being tolerant."

"Uh-uh. Maybe not, but don't jump just yet, my good lady." he swigs a drink from his mug. "I've never seen someone else so adoringly at eased when at the resoundingly mysterious presence of Loki other than me and- "

He stops.

You can't deny the growing fluster emanating within you when you catch his first few words, but his sudden halt confused you for awhile. His expression fades down, his mirthful smile daring to fall but it fights to keep it up. Though, you somehow feel that you know who he struggles to mention.

"The All-mother." you finish.

He flinched, eyes flying randomly at you and inhales. "Yeah." he sighs out a light chuckle. "You know your thing, my lady."

Your heart cracks.

Seeing him react that way at the subject of his mother, its inevitable to feel dread at what could've possibly happened. Just the absence of his father as the overlooking king is more than a proof of the tragic fates that have doomed Asgard. Queen Frigga was far from a stranger to you and you can proudly say that she became your second mother. Well, if you and Loki we're bound together purely from deeper sentiments, she would have been more of a close mother rather than formally your queen mother.

But you also can't imagine how that would've affected Loki.

You have much to learn in this reality. And, maybe its about time for you to let them know yours.

Even just by bits.

"Yes.... I've actually been quite acquainted with the queen herself." you humbly inform, smile tipping up. "Which I'm very lucky to have been."

"Hold on, so you are well acquainted with Loki. Well, not just him anymore but also the royal family?" he quirks his head to the side. "You're definitely not just a noble. Let me guess, a daughter in court."

You nodded.

At least he knows his princely court lessons.

"Hah! I knew it." he cheers, mug elevated high up. This caught a few eyes from the crowd which was also followed by their own cheers. Some asgardians flew their eyes over to you doing the same as you muster up a pleasant smile, an attempt at matching their jovial attitudes. Your mind wanders back to someone as you try to spot the area where you last saw him. Granted, he was still there, eyes intent on you.

And then immediately looked away with not so much of a reaction.

You certainly have your fill of mesmerizing cerulean eyes all over you today and you can't help but blush. And at the least, he wasn't handsomely giggling anymore with some woman or herds of them.

Beside you, Thor mutters something, and you catch your name. Odd it was how he managed to divert his attention on his own little world so fast."...I've surely heard that name before...where...Asgard...?"

He looks like he's partially drunk, but you know he isn't that easy to bring down. No doubt his random ramblings are just a product of nine or fourteen mugs full of mead; there's much more action than just slurring words when it comes to these gods.

The darkness clocks deeper into the dead of night and you had already downed your third round of mead. Honestly, your usual would be at six or seven before you would start to either cry or be overly social to anyone—of course, you prefer the latter. At this point, all you can feel is the faint pounding of your head and the lightweight of everything.

Feather. you think, describing. Featherful light. How very light.

You decided then and there, this would be the last round. You're very aware that your drunken state is resoundingly unsightly and you don't want that coming to life tonight. Or any night.

So as you downed your mug to the last drop, the distinct sounds of singing started to spread from another man to another. When you looked around, their chants start to gradually get louder, infectious smiles being thrown at anyone as their hands begin to clap along the beats with a bob of their heads. You yourself could not contain the jolliness they emitted as you meekly bounced your head along.

"Han leika med lente, han leika med list,"

This, of course, had awaken the presence beside you.

He jumped on his feet, mug still gripped tightly on his hand as he sang along and his other hand waving around to the tune. Just as the crown prince joined in, this boosted the morale of the other asgardians, adding more people to the high spirited singing. His eyes rest on you and he kept nodding to you, urging you to stand up and do the same.

How could you refuse?

When he had offered you his hand, you took it and stood up, finally letting yourself sing the familiar song.

"Han leika med lente, han leika med gny, Hei fagraste lindelauvi alle"

You clapped and jumped along them and laughed in joy, the pounding of your head replaced with the upbeat tune you clap unto. You also didn't waste a second drifting your eyes to Loki, who was actually gone in his spot.

Had he left? You know he's quite fond of festivities so why...

Only then did you see his form singing and clapping with the said flock of women...and men. You really have to tone your emotions down because he has every right to mingle with anyone. Your own personal feelings on the likeness of him is hardly something you should be bringing about now. Soon enough, your attention gets shifted when Thor took your hand, halting your claps as he leads you near the bonfire. You we're quite baffled, but when you realized a circle of asgardians we're forming around the flame, you know you're going to be very out of breath.

"I hope you aren't too drunk to do this." Thor grins at you, hands free of his mug and secured his hand on yours much fittingly. You feel your other hand being snatched the same way by one of the asgardians beside you as you all form in a wide circle.

"I'm more than awake and sober than you." you replied, grinning back with the anticipation of the dance, your adrenaline gradually going up.

"For de runerne de lyster han å vinne"

Little by little, you all move to your right, letting the circle turn in a loop. Another step and another one, the pace of your steps starts to move faster as you follow the rhythm of the song. The footwork of the certain dance begins to come naturally to you and everyone else, lifting it down and back at the moving steps to the side. One cue in the song indicates a twirl, so you turn and clap, and another clap, and so on.

"Men då steig trolli upp or djupaste sjø,"

You can't seem to think straight anymore as your laughter and giggles along the singing fogs your brain. Then comes a chant, and more clapping, and you don't know anymore.

Everything just started to feel natural.

"Og utvinner krafti av trollenes arm For de runerne de lyster han å vinne"

When the other asgardians outside of the circle started to join and slip inside, dancing; you almost didn't catch Thor leaving your side to enter the circle. And as you still moved along the loop, the said god reemerges from the jolly crowd, feet bouncing, and clutched at his side is his confused brother. It only happened in a second before you realized Thor had just threw his brother on his previous spot beside you, Loki's hand securely gripping your own through the revolving circle of people, not daring to let you trip with his sudden intrusion as he got swarmed into joining the loop.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him, and he couldn't even look away from you. As you we're kept being pulled to your sides, it was evident that he was also enjoying himself. He brings up the widest smirk at you and continues to sing with everyone else.

Oh, you we're not going to back down as well.

You squeezed his hand much more affectionately than you intended to, but fortunately he didn't whack it away; he tugs up a teasingly lofty smile and squeezed back.

You don't even know how to react anymore as you just distinctively felt the pulling of your heartstrings. You couldn't fight the widening smile on your lips any longer.

"Og utvinner krafti av trollenes arm For de runerne de lyster han å vinne"

The adrenaline of moving around and the constant claps to the beat, lungs catching the words to sing and the twirls between the loop of people, have had you all elevate for boldness as the beats starts to rapidly pace up; one step faster than the other and faster it goes, leaving you all lost in the moment of chanting breaths.

"Hei, hei, hei, hei, hei,

Hei!"

It goes higher and higher, constant and louder and as your voices reach the peak of the song, you're sent flying to Loki's side as soon as the circling loop of people broke off, tumbling to their sides with crazed smiles and cheers.

Though, as you tumbled beside Loki, heart ringing with laughters, his grip on your hand never left. You couldn't care much and your vision is clamped shut from all of the movement so you can't make much of anything. You we're panting hard and you know he is too—the very close distance between you has you hearing his pacing breaths. Suddenly, what made you open your eyes and look up to the said man was the dawning realization of why you feel so warmly secured.

Oh, he was holding you close, one hand snaked around your waist.

And don't even forget about how his other hand is pretty much locked with yours, as if letting you go would result in you being snatched away.

As you slowly wake up from your moment of daze, your eyes would not tear away from his own. His rising chest and yours synced like no other, and how dares he study you so intently with those gentle eyes, almost like a plea. The moment felt too long and too mesmerizing to break as your hand slowly curl further on his own, caressing.

Belonging. your heart screams between breaths. The shared look you had had you reminiscing a lot of things, a mixture of lifts and crashes dawning on your emotions. He himself contorts to a frown, taking in your conflicted demeanor—as well as your longing eyes.

I love you. you wanted to say, but you know that's bound to crush you, so you just reveled in the silence. The thought of not being able to say it clenches your heart, and you feel like tearing up.

But you resist. Contain it, woman. you order yourself. He's not even the Loki you know...

"I..." you start, wanting to get away.

But before you could gather yourself up once more, something catches Loki's eyes as he feels over your hand—he looks down confusingly. You realize his attention is directed on your hand once you felt the shift of his fingers on your own, specifically on a certain finger, one that's been severed and adorned with your golden ring.

You we're so out of it all until he breathes out his words, "You're married."

Your eyes snap to him, heart racing. He didn't waste a second catching your surprised stare. You don't know if the look he's giving you is concern or just curiousness. "N-No, I..." you stutter.

You we're not married yet—but will you ever be? Though, it seems like he believes otherwise.

"Don't." he sternly says. "Don't lie. I know that kind of ring anywhere and looking closely on it, it's a royal one."

You feel a lump in your throat as you try to swallow. It's only a matter of seconds before he's wondering which of the two princes in Asgard you we're bound with. "It is...yes. But no, I'm not married." you weakly say, feeling all of the adrenaline rushing out of you. "We never got to..." you hesitantly shrugged, trying to point out your unspoken words. "You could say I was whisked away by the TVA before it could even.... possibly happen."

You don't know what expression he's wearing but Loki seem to have caught on on your change of demeanor as your defeated form melts between his arm. You felt him stiff when he realized he hasn't distanced himself away from you, so he gently pulled his arm from your waist, leaving you to stand on your accord as you felt his other hand slipping away from yours.

Your heart longs even more.

Somehow, he had trusted his instincts once again to detect any lies as he accepted your words. "Would you have wanted that marriage?"

You fold your brows up to him, surveying his expression. But he's wearing that neutral mask again. You linger your words in your head, debating, lest you risk spilling any unnecessary sentiments. I would have love to. You open your mouth yet it closes again.

You can't do it.

"I don't know." you shake your head, letting your eyes wander away towards the mellow atmosphere that has become of your bonfire feast.

"Hmm."

That's all you heard from him before he followed your gaze. You both shared a moment of silence, relishing in in the calmness of the aftermath of the celebration. It felt comforting—somehow.

Each and everyone have settled down on the ground, either sprawled from exhaustion and the mead, or wobbling on their seats, leaning shoulder to shoulder with one another. You don't see Thor anywhere, but when you heard your name slipping out of Loki's lips—which you wish you could hear again—one bulky arm gathers you from behind, pushing you closely next to Loki.

Thor's voice imitates his brother, saying your name.

Honestly, you much prefer the former one saying it.

You realized Thor had also wrapped his brother on his other arm, encapsulating you both in a semihug. "I can't stop thinking how familiar your name is, my lady." he says, both you and Loki stiffing at his pull. But you also felt Loki tensing at his brother's words. "I don't know why. Granted, I've surely never met you before, nor anyone like you. Must have I just forgotten then?" he scrunches his face in thought.

"Given that you are an oaf, there's no doubt your depictions of reality are just nonsense." Loki says, narrowing his eyes on Thor.

"You wound me, brother."

You awkwardly witnessed their banter; though, you can't help but tug up a light smile. "I would be wounded as well if you just bore my name in your mind but not my face."

The God of Thunder chuckled. "My bad, my bad. Although truly, that's no fact. How could I ever not bear a fairly stunning maiden in my mind such as you?"

You we're flattered—though underneath that, you can't help but cringe. You really didn't meant for it to go that way.

And Loki doesn't seem too pleased about it. "Can you not do this in front of me?"

"Do what?" Thor asks.

"Just..." Loki tries to wriggle out of his brother's embrace as he breaks away from the two of you, dusting his shoulder off. He points his brother a glare. "Don't ever bring your flirting in front of me."

"What? I am not flirting. Or maybe, I have barged in on one?" Thor eyes you worryingly and flies it to Loki, cautiously untangling his arm around you.

You we're dumbfounded for a second before it processed in your mind.

"No." you and Loki uttered at the same time, exchanging glances.

"Definitely not."

"Yes, why would we do so?"

"Exactly. Nothing of the sort."

"Alright, alright. Calm down." Thor instructs, amused by your reactions. You we're quite glad he didn't press further. "Although admittedly, your name does ring a bell—and no, I am not drunk. I am rarely drunk." he says to you.

You nod, not doubting him. "But if you say such things about my name, then I guess it's rather possible that...you've probably met a variant of me."

When you think about it, it's weird. It also feels much more awry for you to be here. If there's another you in this universe, then you can certainly feel like you're upholding your self-accusations of being an imposter. You shiver.

"But I've never seen nor recognized you, ever." Thor says.

Even as though it had prickled something in you, you just shrug. "Well, variants don't always look like a duplicate of yourself." you mention, two certain variants come to mind. "In truth, even genders could be altered."

Thor lights up with interest. "My word, that's interesting and it actually makes much more sense."

Loki hasn't said anything. It was quite odd as you noticed he stood rigidly as he listened, hands clamped over in front of him—his stance shielded, almost like he's hiding something.

That's suspicious. you think.

Thor had gone into his mind, trying to recall something, albeit in a forceful manner. He narrowed and glared at a spot before it contorts into a smooth unfolding of realization.

"Actually- "

"Brother, why don't we let the lady tire her exhaustions out for tonight?" Loki cuts him off, letting him deceive you with his composed countenance. "It has been quite the feast."

You tread on his point, concealing your suspicions. "Then, where shall I stay?"

Thor recovers, leaving his unspoken thoughts. "Of course! You can stay on either of our tents tonight," you almost break your neck snapping your eyes on him as he continued. "since I asked not to start on the royal quarters unless our people have gotten their own. So, I hope a tent would suffice?"

"I don't mind a tent but, I would hate to intrude his royal highnesses' abode." you defend, baffled.

You soon noticed even Loki had given his brother an unapproving look. "Hang on, why am I included on that?"

"Oh, come on. Aren't you a prince? Wouldn't hurt to be a gentleman from time to time can it, brother?"

Loki hesitates to speak. "You..."

You try to diffuse. "I'm alright if it's alright for...either of you. Surely, that would also mean I am to sleep separately...?"

"Yes, yes." Thor confirms. "Do not fret, my lady. I will be sleeping somewhere else. Be it a couch or a wooden skiff, I do not mind."

That doesn't make you feel any less guilty for taking a prince's bed.

You we're about to retort but the raven haired god beat you to it. "You are terrible." he mutters, directing it at Thor. He then trails his eyes on you, soft cerulean ones touching your heart. "My tent is open for intrusions. Though, I do not take kindly to people with nosy skittering hands."

"Well, would you look at that." Thor preens. Loki shoots him a stern look.

"O- Of course..." you reply, quite baffled once again. "But, what about you?"

It takes him a while to respond. "You shan't bother knowing." he says, lifting up a feigned smile. "Besides, you won't be staying here long, will you?"

Somehow, you catch his point. And you're once again pierced with the dawning remembrance of your timely task. This will only be a single night of intrusion, nothing to fuss over; you are temporarily existing amongst them. It doesn't matter who you're mending a bond with, you're not supposed to be here.

And it almost sounds like he's intending to shut you out, and that cuts something deeper in you.

"You're right." you agree.

You've been enjoying yourself too much that you forgot you'll be leaving this all behind. Once again, just another memory to be stored in your mind.

You don't belong here.

Song inspired: 'Villeman Og Magnhild' (Villeman And Magnhild)

Previous chapter: (Chapter 5)

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a-lonely-dunedain · 1 month

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(hi sorry yes I'm writing this trope again bc no one can stop me. I need Margim hurt/comfort like I need air ok. she's literally everything 2 me. I'm normal about them. I'm sooo normal about the traumatized berserker lady and her soft healer husband <- *lying*)

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Blades cut, bones crack, orcs and men die screaming.

There is horror in the familiarity of it all, how readily it comes back, the sick feeling in my stomach, the deafening noise, the smell of sulfur and death, little rivers of blood before my feet, dripping from the hands of this monster they call the Executioner of the Pit. There is horror in how, almost, natural it feels to be here. How the life I built for myself in the north now feels so distant now, like a foolish dream, one that I have now awoken from and found myself back in the Pit of Thorzhaf.

At some point, I wake up from that nightmare. It does little to help. Ah, so it’s going to be one of those nights.

I sit up and rub the sleep away from my eyes with shaking hands. I shouldn’t expect to get any more of it now anyway, not when my sleeping mind has seen fit to torment me so every time I close my eyes. The house is mostly black, with only a dim trace of light emanating from the dying embers of the firepit, but I can still see clearly enough that it is my home in Lhan Tarren. I turn to see Celeair sleeping soundly in the bundle of blankets next to me, I’m relieved I did not wake him.

I can hear the rain outside, I try to find it comforting, for there was no rain in Mordor. The sound is usually a boon in quieting those memories, yet I do not think anything will drown them forever. Especially not tonight.

I take deep, steady breaths, like Celeair told me to, but my heart still thrashes in my chest like a caged animal.

I know I am not in Mordor, I know I know I know, I am safe here, but the memory is so strong now, it drowns out all other sensations. I listen to the rain, I still hear screams. I grip the blanket with white knuckles, trying to feel its softness, but I still feel blades beneath my skin. A low rumbling of thunder becomes the uneasy murmurs of Orodruin, for a moment I can taste ash in the air, feel its heat on my skin.

This isn’t working. Unnamed and irrational terror grips my heart once again, and it will not let go so easily.

I consider waking Celeair. He could help. I want to let him hold me again. I need his soft voice and gentle hands to drive away this… this madness.

But my throat tightens and my hands tremble, my eyes burn with uncried tears. An all too familiar fear seizes my heart now. I could not speak without my voice breaking, I feel weak and pathetic. I cannot let him see me like this. I stand up, quickly and quietly as I can, and head outside.

The rain pours down in heavy, loud sheets. The cold water shocks my skin as I walk further out. That’s good. Cold is good. It’s far away from Thorzhaf. I lift my face to the black sky and let the water wash over my face, quenching the burning in my eyes. The rain is loud, everything else seems quiet. Finally. I stand there for a long while, letting the rain be the only thing I feel, hear, and think as it soaks through my hair and clothes. I finally feel like I can breathe again.

I do not know how long it's been, but I guess I should head inside soon, although I am reluctant to leave this cold reprieve, everything I came out here to escape is all too likely to come back then. Maybe I can stay out a little longer.

I thought I heard someone say something, that’s odd-

“Margim…?” Celeair’s voice almost makes me jump, how long has he been out here? I see him standing nearby with his cloak drawn tightly around him, straining his eyes to see me in the darkness.

“Yes, I’m here,” I answer quietly, barely being heard over the rain.

“Are you alright?” A rhetorical question, for he already knows that the answer, if not an outright ‘no’, is most certainly not ‘yes’. I think that normally— and I will fully admit my point of reference for ‘normal’ is shaky at best— most people do not stand out in thunderstorms in the middle of the night when they’re having a good time. Suffice to say, I’m in no position to lie to him. But I hesitate, the worry in his eyes fills me with shame. “I… do not know,” I mutter in response.

He steps forward and gently takes my arm in his hands, “let’s go back inside,” he says softly, “I think this rain will do little good for either of us.” he takes a step back towards the door, and I wordlessly follow him back into the house.

He wastes no time in stoking the firepit and providing it with fresh logs, and soon enough the room is lit up with an inviting orange glow. I stand nearby, half expecting an interrogation as to the reason I was seemingly trying to catch my death of cold, but Celeair asks nothing of me. Instead he just sits down in the small pile of furs near the fire, leaving plenty of room for me beside him.

“Well, you’re not going to get very dry over there” he looks at me expectantly, but I can still detect concern in his voice. Reluctantly I sit down next to him, the heat from the fire feels soothing, and I try not to let it remind me of anything else.

“...I’m sorry,” I murmur, “I did not mean to wake you.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” he says plainly, stretching out his hands to the fire to warm them “Truly, I think being awake is the least of my concerns at the moment.”

“It was only a nightmare, I did not mean to trouble you over it,” I look away from him, ashamed “I just… needed to clear my head.”

“You know, you don’t have to worry about waking me up next time, if you think it could be of any help. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I know… I wanted to but I… I don’t know why I couldn’t," the words come haltingly from me "It’s just… I felt so weak, on the brink of shattering, I couldn’t… I didn’t want you to see me like that.” my brow furrows in frustration, I make it sound like a matter of wounded pride, but that is not what I’m trying to say to him. I am not a prideful woman, I think there is little for me to be proud of. It’s just that Celeair is not a fighter, he knows not how to wield a blade nor has any desire to, so to a large extent he relies on me for protection. I don’t like letting him see me so weak. I want him to feel safe around me, like I can protect him from all harm, but how can he when I cannot even protect myself from myself? When I can be broken by a mere memory? I hate the thought of anyone seeing me in such a state, especially him.

Celeair reaches for my hand and gently holds it, his fingers slotting perfectly between my own. He says nothing, merely offering a simple gesture of comfort as he sits in thoughtful silence.

“In my line of work I see everyone at their lowest,” he says quietly after some thought, “rendered helpless by sickness or injury. I’ve tended to everyone from the common man to the mightiest of warriors, and never thought any less of them for it,” he gives my hand a gentle reassuring squeeze, “because no one is untouchable. You aren’t weak for being hurt.”

“I certainly don’t feel very strong either,” the slight tremble in my voice betrays that fact all too well.

“No one does, not when they’re in this much pain." his thumb gently bushes mine in a soothing motion, "It’s nothing to be ashamed of, especially after everything you’ve lived through.”

I just look on into the fire, not knowing what to say. I know he’s telling the truth, I know he is the last person in the world who would ever think less of me for even a display as pathetic as this, but it still feels pathetic nonetheless.

And, I do not think it’s just that… the thought of allowing myself to be so broken, openly, for someone to see -even someone I trust as much as Celeair- just feels so wrong. Terrifying, actually. Weakness and fear go hand in hand for me, where one is the other follows closely behind. If I am weak I am afraid, weakness meant death in Mordor, and it is an instinct that is not easily unlearned. I know that no harm will come to me here, but my heart never seems to believe it.

“I am not ashamed, I’m just afraid.” I finally croak out, wishing my voice would not so readily betray the fact that I am on the brink of tears. I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut, desperately trying to bury the sorrow welling up in my eyes. To my credit, after a few shaky breaths, I manage it.

“Is there anything I might do to help?” he asks.

I pause in thought, I don’t know if there’s anything he can do to make this go away, but… “a hug couldn’t hurt,” I reply sheepishly.

Swiftly but gently Celeair puts his arms around my waist and pulls himself close to me. I instinctively return the hug, wrapping my arms tightly around him desperate to feel his warmth.

…and forgetting that my clothes have not yet had time to dry. “Oh. Now I’ve gone and soaked you too…” I mumble apologetically.

“Oh noo, how horrible,” he says with a soft laugh, laying his head on my shoulder as he snuggles closer to me, completely undeterred by my sopping wet clothes “I suppose we’ll simply have to huddle for warmth then, nothing else to be done about it.” I cannot help but smile slightly at his words. It’s a good thing he doesn't mind, because I do not plan to let go of him anytime soon. It's hard to think about much else when I'm holding him like this.

Everything is finally quiet again.

#lotro #lotro oc #Margim #Celeair #sorry other WiPs I got distracted by something else entirely...... again.#whoopsie!

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canirove · 9 months

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Granada | Chapter 9

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"I'll go fetch another towel."

"Thank you" Rowena said, closing her eyes and sinking lower in the bath, the water muffling the sound of the door as the maid left the room .

"Evening, cupcake."

"Bloody…" she screamed before slipping and ending under the water.

"Careful there" Rúben chuckled when she managed to sit up.

"I almost drowned, you idiot" she said between coughs.

"I would have never allowed that and you know it."

"When did you come in?" Rowena asked.

"When the maid left. And I told her to not come back."

"You did what? Why?"

"Because I want to share a lovely bath with my dearest wife" he smiled.

"What if your dearest wife doesn't want to share it with you?"

"I think she does" Rúben said as he stood up. He had been crouched down next to her, and he could have… "Don't need to cover yourself" he laughed when Rowena moved and hugged her knees against her chest. "I didn't look."

"Of course you didn't" she snorted.

"I didn't" he said as he took off his shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not getting into the bath with my clothes on" he laughed.

"You…" Rowena started. But she got distracted by his arms, by how his muscles moved when he bent down to take off his boots. And then she got distracted by his back, by the way all his muscles also moved as he untied his trousers and let them fall to the floor. "Dear lord" she whispered, feeling her cheeks get very warm.

He was naked. Rúben was completely naked in front of her.

"Alright" he said as he turned around, Rowena quickly looking away, making him laugh. "I don't mind if you look. You actually should. I'm your husband, remember?"

"Sadly, yes. I remember" she said, her eyes fixed on the bed as she felt him get into the bath, some water splashing her.

"This feels so nice."

"For you."

"And for you too if you relaxed and stopped making yourself a ball. There is enough space for both of us, we won't be touching."

"Fine" Rowena sighed, finally looking at him and changing her position, stretching her legs a bit.

"See?" Rúben smiled. "Though I think you could stretch your legs completely, let them rest on my thighs. I don’t mind."

"But I do."

"It won't bite your toes, you know?"

"Uh?"

"What you are so afraid of. It doesn't bite, it isn't a snake" he laughed. "Well, actually…"

"Rúben!"

"What?"

"You are such a child sometimes…"

"Love it when you quote me" he grinned.

"Idiot!" Rowena replied, splashing him.

"Romina!" he said, splashing her back.

"My name is Rowena, you big idiot!" she replied again, splashing him with both hands.

"No, you did not" Rúben said, his face dripping with water.

"Yes, I did" she grinned.

"Big mistake, wife. Big mistake" he said as he started splashing her.

"Rúben!" she laughed, trying to defend herself by splashing him back, water everywhere. "Stop it!"

"No, you stop it!" he said as they both kept laughing and splashing the other, definitely making a mess of their room.

"Rúben! No!" Rowena laughed while moving in the bath, trying to turn around and give him her back to protect herself. "Rúben?" she called, the splashing suddenly ending.

"Yes?" he said before kissing her shoulder, making her gasp.

"What…" she whispered, his fingers caressing her skin as he put her hair to one side and started to leave kisses all over her shoulder, slowly moving up to her neck. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you" he said against her skin, the sensation making her feel something on her stomach. Or lower, to be more accurate.

"But…" Rowena tried to reply, another gasp leaving her lips when he kissed her neck just below her ear.

"But what?" Rúben asked, his arm moving around her waist and pulling her closer to him, her back against his chest.

"I… the water is getting cold."

"Doesn't feel cold to me" he said as he continued kissing her neck and her shoulder, his free hand moving just above her hip.

"Well, it does for me. And I'm actually getting cold."

"Then let me help you feel warm again" he whispered in her ear as his fingers moved from her hip, getting dangerously close to that spot no one had touched before, her whole body tensing in anticipation.

"Rúben…"

"Rowena…" he whispered again. "Wake up."

"What?"

"Wake up or you'll miss it."

"Miss it?" she said, slowly opening her eyes. She wasn't in their room, in the bath. She was on a coach, her head resting on someone's shoulder. Rúben's.

"Good morning, cupcake" he chuckled.

"What… what is going on?"

"You fell asleep and seemed to be having a very pleasant dream with me."

"I what?" Rowena said, quickly lifting her head. Maybe way too quickly since everything started spinning.

"What were we doing in that dream?" he smirked.

"I wasn't dreaming with you."

"The colour of your cheeks say otherwise" he chuckled. "And I heard you say my name. More than once."

"Shut up" she said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away.

"Alright, alright" Rúben laughed. "But the palace is on this side of the road."

"What?"

"The summer palace" he repeated.

"Oh…. Oh!" Rowena said, quickly moving to look out through his window, remembering where they were going. "Where is it?"

"There" he said to her ear as his arm moved around her waist, pulling her closer to him and to the window, allowing Rowena to see better. "Do you see it now?"

"Yes! It is… It is beautiful, Rúben."

"Simply beautiful" he said, the way his words sounded making her look at him. His eyes were fixed on her, he wasn't paying any attention to the palace. And his face was so close to hers… So close that they could…

"Careful" he chuckled when the coach rode over a hole, Rowena almost falling. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes" she said, sitting back on her seat and putting some distance between them. After her dream and what had just crossed her mind, she needed it.

#ruben dias #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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mothsgotghosts · 1 year

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Soapghost Tangled Au

LOOK. I'm certain I'm not the first person to think about this but I Don't Care. This blog is basically just me saying shit about cod to the void anyway and talking like a bunch of people will see it lmao. THIS IS GONNA BE LONG AS FUCK BTW.

Also this shit is gonna feature some good old fashioned nikprice and alerudy and my several headcanons, a few of which I will share for context: First of all, almost everyone is trans in my mind, I won't lie to you. But mostly that's not relevant to the plot besides Soap and Nik are both trans men. Also Ghost is transfem and that's not super relevant but I will be using mostly she/her for her (I hc her using she/her and he/him pronouns) so be prepared. OKAY GOOD This is just gonna be me rambling my ideas in a bulleted list hopefully in the order of the plot.

The story sticks fairly close to the actual movie plot, once upon a time there was a magic flower yadda yadda. Anyway Old Man Shepherd wants to be eternally young yeah

Meanwhile the kings (Price and Nik) are like "let's have another kid", I say another bc Gaz is here also he's adopted <3, and seahorse dad Nik is real, okay great (DO NOT TURN THIS INTO OMEGAVERSE SHIT. HE'S TRANS. A TRANS PARENT.)

Anyway uh oh Nik gets sick (haha rhyme) and Price is like "go get that flower so my husband doesn't DIE thanks), Shepherd is pissed, steals their baby with magic hair

That baby with magic hair is Soap! Who is raised by Shepherd, everyone's favorite (least favorite) manipulative piece of shit!

Some background info on Soap's childhood, it wasn't great being locked in a tower and also. Soap is trans in this (as I've said), he's just gnc, but the long hair. Eehh. Not something he super loves but Shepherd won't let him cut it, obviously. The mohawk was a compromise (yes I know the hair lore but I want him to have a mohawk so shh)

Anyway Soap's 20-something birthday rolls around and he tries to ask Shepherd to go see the glowing lights, Shepherd says no, they argue, Soap asks for paint instead, Shepherd leaves to go get it

Meanwhile Ghost and Graves are robbing the fucking castle and steal the lost prince's crown, Ghost leaves Graves to get caught by the royal guard and then gets chased by a horse named Riley for a while before ditching him and climbing into an abandoned tower, and gets hit with a frying pan

Again, the story continues fairly the same. John makes a deal with this stranger in a skull mask to take him to see the floating lights, the lanterns apparently, and he'll give her her satchel back, Ghost begrudgingly agrees.

Ghost then takes Soap to get some food to convince him to go home and call off the deal, and she takes him to Los Vaqueros Saloon, run by two outlaw husbands and frequented by loads of criminals and bounty hunters

In case it wasn't obvious, Alejandro and Rudy own the saloon. Its patrons are made up of various different operators + Valeria (who IS an operator now but still).

Poor Soap is terrified bc Shepherd told him all people, esp ones like these, are bad news and then a bunch of guys lunge on Ghost to get her bounty and send someone out to go find some guards. Soap stops them, I've Got A Dream happens. Alejandro wants to be a pianist, good for him :)

Meanwhile Shepherd returns, sees Soap is gone, and rolls up right as Soap is saying how glad he is he left and gets pissed

Then the royal guard show up and Rudy and Alejandro help them escape and then call Ghost's dream stupid.

"Go follow your dream, hermano." "I will." "He was talking to him, your dream is stupid."

They get cornered by Graves, the royal guard, and Riley, escape and then get trapped in a cave and nearly drown. Ghost cuts her hand trying to pry away some rocks but it's too dark underwater for her to see. They both think they're gonna die so Ghost tells Soap her real name.

"my real name is Simon Riley. Somebody might as well know." "I have magic hair that glows when I sing." "....what?" "OH MY GOD- I HAVE MAGIC HAIR THAT GLOWS WHEN I SING!!!"

John's good old magic hair saves the day, they escape, they find a clearing to camp out in for the night and Soap uses his hair to heal the cut on Simon's hand, Simon freaks out a little bit it's fine, she's fine

John then asks why Simon changed her name to Ghost, Simon says it's a boring story but John listens anyway. She talks about her father and her brother taunting her with ghosts and skeletons, and when they died it stuck with her. She decided to become a ghost.

Simon asks about John's hair, he tells her that his "father" keeps him in that tower to protect him from people who want to steal his hair, shows her the tiny little brown strand that never grew back and says people want to use him for his hair's healing abilities, it's how he got the big scar on his chin.

Simon leaves to get firewood, and Shepherd emerges from the fucking shadows like a creature and tells Soap to come home with him, to which Soap says no because he Likes Simon, and she's gonna take him to see the lanterns, and she's nice!! Shepherd gets mad, tosses him the satchel and says to give it to Simon and see what she does, that he'll be sorry when she runs away with it, and then leaves

Simon comes back and Soap lies and says everything is fine. Shepherd runs into Graves who wants to kill Simon and makes a deal with him

Then morning rolls around and Simon is awoken by RILEY THE FUCKING HORSE, Soap convinces Riley to be nice and let Simon go for one day because "it's my birthday :)" and she's supposed to take him to see the lanterns

They make their way into town and Simon immediately is like "okay yeah your hair is too long" because people keep stepping on it and gets some kids to braid it. John looks very handsome, Simon is very queer, they run off and have a good time enjoying the town square and all the festivities

At some point Soap notices a mural of the royal family, with a certain golden haired baby that looks very familiar, but quickly brushes it off to dance with the townsfolk and Simon

Then it's time to see the lights! Yay! Simon gets a boat for him and John, tosses Riley a bag of apples that he Definitely Paid For, Okay...Or Mostly Paid For.

I See the Light happens, John gives Simon the satchel and Simon pushes it aside in favor of taking off her mask, just for John.

"but I'm not scared anymore, ye know?" "I think I'm starting to."

AND THEN HE TAKES THE MASK OFF AND. sometimes, I am a genius. Anyway, they get back to shore and Simon sees Graves and is like "I promise I'll be right back" and goes off to just give him the satchel, he doesn't want it anymore he just wants to be done with all this criminal shit, mainly for Johnny.

Graves instead is like "what if I took that magic hair guy instead" and knocks his ass out and ties her to a boat then goes to snatch Soap. Shepherd shows up AGAIN and knocks Graves out like "oh look son I saved you!" And Soap sees the boat with Simon on it, thinks she left him, and goes back with Shepherd

Simon wakes up TIED TO A BOAT WITH THE FUCKING CROWN HE STOLE AND GETS ARRESTED

Graves also gets arrested and Simon freaks out on him when passing him being led to his cell, Graves says that some weird guy showed up and took Soap back home and Simon is locked in her cell

Meanwhile back at the tower, Soap is laying in his bed all sad bc his gf left him, when he realizes the sun crest on the little flag Simon got him at the festival matches suns he's been subconsciously painting for YEARS, that when he tried on that crown Simon stole it fit, that that baby on that mural WAS HIM, that BRO HE IS THE LOST PRINCE.

Then he yells at Shepherd for stealing him away and Shepherd is like "okay fuck you" and plans to lock him up forever

Meanwhile, Simon gets broken out of prison by two cowboys and their gaggle of thieves and bounty hunters and a horse named Riley. Riley takes him to the tower where he climbs up and gets stabbed by Shepherd after seeing Soap LITERALLY CHAINED TO A WALL.

John begs Shepherd to let him heal her, that he'll go with him quietly and never complain if he does and Shepherd agrees and chains Simon up too so he can't follow them. Soap goes to heal her and Simon slices off a bunch of his hair. Shepherd rapidly ages and falls out of the window and dies, L moment. Simon dies too tho, sad.

For real though, "You were my new dream" "And you were mine" fucks me up every time. Anyway, Simon dies, Soap's magic tears of love or something brings her back to life.

"Did I ever mention...I like brunettes" "PFF- YER AN ARSEHOLE!" "Sorry Johnny, there can only be one blonde person in this relationship!"

Anyway happily ever after and all that, Soap gets to reunite w his long lost fathers and brother.

Look idk how they recognize him okay. Father's intuition? Blue eyes? The big fat scar on his chin that wasn't ACTUALLY from someone stealing Soap (he was a stupid baby)? Idk could be any or all of those.

THE END!!!!!! Thank you to those who sat here and read ALL of this <3 big preesh! Okay idk how to end this so bye

#modern warefare 2 #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #captain john price #nikolai cod #pricenik #nikprice #price mw2 #alerudy #tangled au #shepherd mw2 #im not tagging anyone else bc they aren't mentioned enough

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maplefield · 3 months

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rambling about fujin and the white snake adeptus

ok so. i was watching videos of previous lantern rite playthroughs on yt (started playing at the end of january 2023 so i couldn't even take part in last year's) and looking back now after the 4.4 livestream, i thought maybe that 2022 mingxiao lantern was a nod to fujin, so i started digging and went down the rabbit hole basically and collected some things i found interesting.

NO LEAKS, everything written about here is mentioned in in-game items or is a part of chinese culture and legends, but some of it might be considered potential spoilers regarding chenyu vale

first, i wanna preface this by saying that i am no expert in chinese culture so please do correct me if i say something incorrect.

during the 2022 lantern rite they didn't mention which fallen liyue hero the lantern was for (or i missed it) but i found a really good post on hoyolab by Flora's cake.EN, talking about chinese customs and the celebration of the lunar new year. they say that the mingxiao lantern was based on the lantern with the fish pattern of the previous year's festival, and they also note that the lantern resembles carp and goldfish, how in chinese culture they symbolize wealth, fortune, and benefits, and express "people's yearning for prosperity, auspiciousness, and good fortune". this symbolism in chinese culture is very clearly transferred to the game too since we know from the stream that there is a well-known legend in chenyu vale about a carp adeptus named fujin and that "in local legends the golden carp is a symbol of good luck". they also talk about jademouth, a famous landmark left behind by an adeptus to protect the people from flooding, and mention the abodes of the white snake and the carp adeptus.

bai suzhen aka the white snake is the central figure of a chinese legend titled "the legend of the white snake". there are several versions and i'll be fully transparent, i haven't read them yet unfortunately. according to this article by Minjie Su, who researches medieval literature (and apparently had the same uni major as me lol) bai suzhen was originally an evil snake spirit, but later the story became a romance between her and a man, Xu Xuan. in one of the later versions, though she is still morally questionable (she "poisons the well to boost her husband’s pharmacy") she is devoted to Xu and sympathetic to humankind. Xu almost dies of shock when he sees her true snake form. (1) however, she "revives him and makes him believe the snake was but an illusion. Enraged, Fahai wages war against Madam White and holds Xu as hostage, Madam White commands water to rise from the lake to drown Fahai’s temple. She would have defeated the monk, if she did not feel sympathy towards the innocent townsfolk involved in her war. In the end, she surrenders to Fahai’s power and becomes imprisoned under the Pagoda, but not before her short reunion with Xu and the birth of their son. (...) she will never bee freed unless the palm tree before the Pagoda blossoms (...)" she is eventually freed by her son, though this action is not intentional, merely a coincidence. (2)

while searching, i also found this post by baoboatree on reddit, who did some huge work and re-translated the descriptions of the echoes of an offering artifact set. three things to note before i continue: 1) this part might contain POSSIBLE SPOILERS regarding the story of the new chenyu vale region, so proceed with caution 2) my chinese is not good enough to be able to compare the translation to the original and verify the information presented here (i am NOT saying it is incorrect and i'm certainly NOT trying to criticize baoboatree, just thought i should mention this) and 3) the post is relatively old, so some information might have been updated/re-written in-game and become outdated here. for these reasons, it's best to take it all with a grain of salt.

according to baoboatree's interpretation, the story "involves two adeptus - a "medicine adeptus" and a "carp adeptus". The two are bickering lovers/friends and lived near Chenyu valley. Until one day, the carp adeptus was sacrificed in an ancient ritual and loses her human form. She can no longer walk on land, but longed to see Liyue harbor. The medicine adeptus took her on a trip to Liyue harbor by taking her along in a Serenitea pot . (...) The fish adeptus is implied in at least four of the five pieces to have sacrificed herself again, becoming the sunken jade of Chenyu Vale. In at least one but maybe two legends, the medicine adeptus is implied to have become a tea tree that only grows in Chenyu Vale." they say the medicine adeptus may or may not be madame ping, which personally, i believe it's more likely they have something to do with the white snake adeptus (or is even the white snake adeptus themselves), whose husband was a pharmacist in the legend, and who stole medicine for him in another version of that legend.

i encourage everyone to read the whole reddit post, i found it fascinating and baoboatree really worked hard on it. i don't want to go into too much detail here bc this post is already way too long. when the medicine adeptus brings the carp adeptus to liyue harbor in the teapot, baoboatree also states that, in contrast to the official english translation, the teapot was not a gift from "a friend" but "friends", plural. now, this was actually something i could check, and it is absolutely correct. they theoretize that these friends might include madame ping, the role of the medicine adeptus and carp adeptus being clear. they also note in a comment that the fish lantern during lantern rite might have been representing the fish adeptus. looking back now, i would be surprised if it wasn't. hoyo has shown to pay attention to things like this.

as for why it were two fish, one might have been referencing this medicine adeptus, or one could have simply been put there to make it look more balanced, or to emphasize the wish for good fortune, or maybe there will be more to this that we'll uncover. either way, i'm interested in seeing how the story about this carp adeptus will unfold. if they try to stay close to the legend, it might have been the white snake adeptus that caused the flood which made the carp adeptus sacrifice herself. as for whether this white snake adeptus is the same as the medicine adeptus, honestly i think it could go either way. i could argue both for them being the same character and them not being the same. as of right now, i'm more inclined to think that they are different beings. (edit bc 1) i deleted my reasoning bc looking back it was just ehh and 2) bc i realized that i forgot to add this originally: obviously all of this is just wild speculation, and it could very well be that the story that we get, assuming we learn of these events, will be entirely different. the whole turning into a tree legend from the artifact set could also really just be an in-game myth, though i don't think that very likely, but who knows. either way, nothing even remotely certain can be concluded from the information i presently have.) of course i could very well be wrong, and hoyo will probably do their own take on this legend. after all, they have taken a looot of inspiration from nordic mythology as well (i might do some posts about that too, i was a scandinavian studies major so it's always interesting for me to see how nordic mythology is implemented in games/films etc).

anyway, if anyone read this whole thing, i hope you found it interesting. sorry that it was not very concise, i haven't slept in weeks so my brain is barely working lol. i'm really excited for chenyu vale and lantern rite and can't wait to see what this update brings!

(1) the author points out the storyline also has similarities to that of the french legend of mélusine but i don't have enough brain capacity to go into this as well.

(2) the wikipedia page states that Xu actually dies, and "Bai Suzhen went to Heaven to steal the immortal herb Lingzhi. She succeeded in her mission and used the herb to revive Xu Xian. (...) Bai Suzhen and Xiaoqing fought against Fahai and flooded the temple with water, hurting other living creatures.", however, i can't find this information in the relevant source.

Sources

Genshin Impact Version 4.4. Special Program https://youtu.be/abZdO3rWoVc?si=wA1QDAYqeCqh3yUA

Flora's cake.EN on Hoyolab

https://www.hoyolab.com/article/14973902 (accessed 20/01/24)

Minjie Su: The Legend of the White Snake: A Chinese Mélusine Story

https://www.medievalists.net/2017/11/legend-white-snake-chinese-melusine-story/ (accessed 20/01/24)

Bai Suzhen on Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bai_Suzhen (accessed 20/01/24)

baoboatree: Echoes of an Offering artifact lore re-translation and interpretation

https://www.reddit.com/r/Genshin_Lore/comments/tta8wo/echoes_of_an_offering_artifact_lore_retranslation/ (accessed 20/21/24)

#genshin impact #my post #chenyu vale #im also curious to see if any of the voicelines from the 4.4 trailer is referencing this story #mainly thinking of “you chose a path without a future” and “spare my innocent child i alone am the source of this sin”#they definitely wont be in the world quests bc those arent voiced but they still might be connected #although even i feel like this is too much of a stretch probably

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downwiththeficness · 4 months

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Shadow and Veil-Chapter Thirty Five

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes. This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count: ~2,200

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist Read on AO3

Eva stood in the kitchen, waiting for a fresh pot of coffee to brew. It was almost lunchtime and she’d already taken her normal route around the neighborhood. There were no new job openings to inquire about, so she bought a piece of fruit from the vendor and wandered around until she got tired. Then, aware of the time, she headed home and turned on the next episode of Sergio and Maria’s story.

Luz had no idea that Sergio was struggling with the question of whether or not he would go through with marrying her. She spent most of the episode filling out invitations and looking for dresses. Maria, on the other hand, was drowning her sorrows in tequila with her best friend who was encouraging her to seek out her long lost love. All in all, Eva found it very entertaining.

The ring of the phone startled her during a commercial break. Eva picked it up with a tentative ‘hello?’

Horacio’s voice came through, “Eva, did I leave my lunch on the kitchen counter?”

Leaning around the doorway, she looked for it, “Yes, you did.”

“Would you mind bringing it to me?” He asked, “I would normally just get something here, but I was looking forward to the leftovers.”

Eva sympathized with him. If she hadn’t eaten every scrap of food on her plate, she would be looking forward to the leftovers, too. “I can do that,” she replied, already reaching for the phone book to call a cab. “You’re at your office today?”

“Sí,” then, “Gracias, Amorcita.”

Eva smiled wide even though he couldn’t see her, “You’re welcome. I’ll come right over.”

After hanging up with Horacio, Eva dialed a cab company and very carefully asked for a ride from her home to Horacio’s office. The person on the other side of the line didn’t seem bothered by her stilted speech and gave her a wait time of twenty minutes. It was plenty for Eva to get cleaned up and make herself presentable.

She knew that there was little that she could do about the fact that she stuck out in a crowd. Eva was a foreigner and too new to the country to effectively hide how American she was. She just had to try her best to make a good impression wherever she went, especially if she was going to Horacio’s office. As long as she was polished and polite to his coworkers, it probably wouldn’t matter too much that she was from an entirely different hemisphere.

She selected her outfit with care. Her sartorial choices were limited, but she had enough accessories to add a little flash here and there. After stepping into her heels, she put some money in a handbag and went to the kitchen to grab Horacio’s lunchbox.

The cab pulled into the driveway and Eva gave the address to the driver. Along the way, she attempted to memorize the route. It was further away than she’d been, aside from the first trip from the airport. The neat houses gave way to a highway flanked by trees until the car reached the outskirts of the city, proper.

Most of the buildings were uniform concrete with official looking signs. Eva made note of a medical center about half a block from where the cab eventually pulled to a stop. There was also a post office and general store. In the distance, Eva spotted a small park with children running through it.

She paid the driver and got out, smoothing her skirt nervously before climbing the steps to the front door. While she walked, Eva practiced the translation for ‘hello, I’m looking for my husband, Captain Carrillo’ in her head. The closer she got to the doors, the more nervous she became. When she cleared the stairs, Eva made herself stop and take a deep breath. She was just a wife dropping off lunch to her husband. No big deal.

Another fortifying breath and Eva breezed into the lobby as if she belonged there. She found a secretary who patiently listened to her inquiry. A moment later and she was standing in an elevator staring as a sticky note with short directions written on it. The doors opened and she stepped out, looking both ways to find an office number.

At the end of the hall, Eva dropped down a short set of stairs to an open floor littered with desks. The sound of people talking was muffled by the click of typewriters and the loud scratch of a fax machine printing in the corner. Eva paused at the base of the stairs so that she could scan the room for Horacio. It didn’t take her long to spot him.

Moving quickly through the spacious room, Horacio’s purposeful steps carried him alongside another officer. He was speaking to them in words she couldn’t hear, but the tone was clear: This is what I want, and this is how I want it. It was a tone that she knew intimately and just hearing it made her skin prickle.

Other officers noted Horacio’s approach long before he got there. Eva watched their bodies stiffen and move out of the way to let him through. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him part a crowd just by walking towards it and Eva had always assumed that it was a Diego thing. That the danger Diego represented was telegraphed so acutely that anyone could sense it.

Evidently, it was a Horacio thing.

Eva quickly calculated where he might be going and easily found her entry point when a group of officers scurried off down another hallway. She put herself in Horacio’s path and waited for him to spot her.

She waited about seven seconds.

Horacio locked eyes with her and the ambient sounds of the room dimmed. His mouth pulled up into a smile and he seemed to completely forget that he was speaking to someone. The even stride shortened and quickened as he made his way towards her. When he got close, both hands reached out to grasp her hips.

He kissed her cheek lightly, “You brought lunch?”

Eva held up his lunchbox, “I brought lunch.”

The officer he had been talking to stood off to the side, watching their interaction with interest. If the expression on his face was anything to go on, Eva thought seeing Horacio kiss someone in public was a rare event that would later result in gentle ribbing between them.

Horacio took the lunchbox from her and stepped to the side, “Eva, this is Officer Trujillo. Trujillo, this is my wife.”

Like the last time he introduced her, Eva’s heart fluttered at the way he said ‘my wife’. No hesitation. No stumbling over the word. No derision or sarcasm in his tone. Just a simple statement of unequivocal fact.

“Mrs. Carrillo,” the officer greeted, “its nice to finally meet you.”

Eva smiled, “Its nice to meet you, too. And, thank you for finding the house for us. We’re very grateful.”

Trujillo dipped his head in acknowledgment, “You’re welcome. Besides, what else was I supposed to do when I heard the Major went to America and got married without telling anyone.”

“Major?”

Horacio shifted on his feet, “Ah. I got promoted this morning. I was going to tell you when I got home.”

“That’s wonderful!” she gasped.

Trujillo stepped forward and slapped Horacio on the shoulder, “I’m looking forward to hearing how you managed to bring down that American doctor. We could use some new strategies.”

Eva felt her smile freeze in place.

Horacio, bless him, noticed, “I’ll let you know when I’ve scheduled the training. Right now, I’m going to have lunch.”

Trujillo waved him off with a grin and Horacio guided Eva away with a hand on the small of her back. They walked to an office that was in disarray. Boxes and filing cabinets were half opened. The desk was covered in accordion files that were bursting at the seams. On the far wall was a couch that had even more boxes stacked on top of it.

Horacio closed the door behind them, “Sorry about…”

Eva shook her head, “He doesn’t know. Its fine. Just caught me off guard.”

He looked at her a moment more before he seemed to accept her answer. Eva watched him walk around his desk and kneel down. The sound of rustling preceded the distinct chime of a microwave starting.

“So, new promotion and a new office?”

Head lifting so that he looked at her from just above the edge of his desk, Horacio replied, “Something like that. I’m supposed to head a task force to hunt down drug dealers.”

She huffed an amused laugh, “I’d say you have a head start on the job.”

He stood, “Yes. I think so.” A tilt of his head, “I doubt it will be nearly as exciting as playing a drug dealer. But, I’ll manage.”

Sauntering over to him, Eva said, “I wouldn’t toss Diego aside so quickly. You might need him back someday.”

There was something in his expression that flinched, but he covered it smoothly by pulling his mouth into a very Diego-like smirk, “I’m sure Diego would be thrilled to hear you think so highly of him.”

Eva turned her shoulders coyly and scrunched her face, “Have to say: When I first met him? Total asshole. But, he grew on me.”

Horacio took her hand and held it loosely, “You’re right. He was an asshole. But, he was efficient. And, I never would have met you without him.”

He was right. If Diego hadn’t stormed into her life, Eva would still be living in that stupid fucking house surrounded by pretty things and slowly dying inside.

“I’m glad I met him,” she murmured.

“Me, too.”

The microwave dinged. Horacio knelt down and carefully pulled the Tupperware from it and cleared off a space on his desk. He sat in a rolling chair and gestured for her to take on of the two chairs opposite.

“We’ll share,” he announced, picking up the fork.

Eva sat and leaned her elbows on the desk, “That’s very gracious of you.”

With a bright hum, Horacio passed her the fork so that she could take a bite, “I’m glad you liked the restaurant. We should go back soon.”

“We should,” she agreed, “We have a promotion to celebrate.”

“Its not a big deal.”

Eva pointed the fork at him, “It is a big deal. You said it, yourself. The whole point of going to Louisiana was so that you could get this promotion. And, look, here it is. You did it.”

Horacio took the fork from her, “I had help. Your help, actually.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I was a big help while I had a complete mental breakdown and cried for, like, six months.”

“It wasn’t an easy situation.”

He had a point, but Eva refused to allow it, “And, I didn’t make it any easier.”

Horacio chewed thoughtfully, “I don’t need the promotion to be happy with what happened. I got something better.”

How was she supposed to argue with him when he was saying such sweet things? Eva shook her head ruefully, but let him have the win. He forked another bite into his mouth instead of gloating.

Eva’s gaze shifted to the mountain of files on his desk, “Are these your first cases, Major?”

Before he could answer, her eyes caught the familiar Ardent logo. She laid a hand on the file and looked at him in question.

“I,” he began in a long, drawn out syllable, “got an update faxed in from Javier. Its about the trial.”

Her chest clenched, “Oh?”

“The evidence we gathered was very, very good and the DA was suggesting a minimum sentence of twenty years.”

“That’s good, right?”

He nodded, “But, a few days ago, he fled. They’re not sure where he went—he covered his tracks pretty well.”

Eva couldn’t speak around the fear that began to bubble up from her stomach and into her throat. The food in her mouth suddenly felt like lead.

Horacio caught her attention, “He won’t get close to you. I’ve already flagged him at every airport in the country. That’s if he figures out that you’re here, which he won’t.”

She remembered the extra measures he took while they made their way to Colombia. Meticulously, Eva walked through them, looking for weaknesses that Josh might be able to exploit. They were few and far between, but they were there.

The best plan would be for the authorities to catch up with Josh and put him behind bars. But, where…?

“I know where he is,” she said.

Horacio’s brows rose, “You do?”

Eva nodded, “He’s in Mexico. Before everything went to shit, he said that he wanted to move the operation.”

Picking up a pen and notepad, Horacio began to write, “Did he say where in Mexico?”

She shook her head, “No, but I would look for manufacturing towns—places where he could create a new company and start over. Somewhere that he could export the product back into the US.”

He wrote down her words with bullet points and set down the pen, “What was that about not helping, again?”

#Shadow and Veil #Narcos #Horacio carrillo #carrillo #maurice compte #au #A/B/O dynamics

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