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camillafanfiction · 2 years

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Love changes everything - Chapter 5

16th October 1975, London

The one minute silence following the second reading which was recited by The Prince of Wales was almost unbearable for Camilla. The silence drove her mad. She had cried and sobbed throughout the whole sermon - though she had tried more than hard to keep it together - , but she’d had her father and her sister holding her hands, which had given her comfort. This silence, however, made her want to scream. Why on earth had they decided on the church she and Andrew had gotten married in? Why on earth had Charles had to hold that reading? Why on earth did she wish he would wrap his arms around her to make her feel safe?

Charles had tried to brace Camilla for today. He had tried to brace her for the service, the reception that was about to follow and, especially, the media attention that would inevitably be around. But Charles had underestimated the amount of interest the press had. This was not just about the royal family, this was also about a British hero and his poor, young widow with a not even one-year-old baby - The Prince of Wales’s ex-girlfriend as The Sun had found out. Charles would have loved to scream at the press, at the many, many cameras, at the photographers and the reporters with their film cameras. Had they nothing better to do than to bring poor Camilla on the frontpages? He hated it. He hated that he could not protect her. He hated that he could not be by her side as he wished. Without looking or seeing her he knew she had cried through the whole sermon, though the priest was painting a picture of Andrew as a loving husband and father that couldn’t be more far away from reality.

With shaking legs Camilla staggered up from her seat and put on a brave face as she walked out of the chapel on her brother Mark’s arm, followed by The Queen Mother and The Prince of Wales and behind them The Duke of Edinburgh and The Princess Royal, a former fling of Andrew’s. Camilla almost stumbled down the stairs as she realised the press pack lingering outside. Luckily, Mark was clutching her arm tightly and Charles, too, was subconsciously ready to catch her any time. All his instincts were focused on her.

The flashlights were irritating and blinding, though it was only about midday. Camilla tried to block them and the reporters out. They terrified her. Why had all of this had to happen to her? Why was she not allowed to grieve in private? She knew she had to get on with it now, she had to keep her brave face on. But she couldn’t. Her teary-eyed face was most likely going to be in the papers tomorrow.

Camilla felt like a deer as she walked past the cameras to get into the car that would take her to St. James’s where the funeral meal was going to take place. The clicking sound of the cameras made her go mad, it sounded like a swarm of bees. “Will you be alright?”, she heard Charles whispering behind her. He touched her elbow softly and the cameras struck like lightning bolts.

She nodded as she turned slightly around to face him. “Yes.”

“You’re doing great.”, Charles spoke under his breath and, under the silent harrumph of his grandmother, leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Taken by surprise Camilla blushed and sunk down in a curtsey, well aware of the cameras. Luckily, Charles bid farewell to Mark, too, and Camilla remembered to say goodbye to The Queen Mother as well with a low curtsey.

It didn’t go unnoticed by The Queen Mother just how much her favourite grandchild rallied around Mrs. Parker Bowles during the funeral meal at St. James’s Palace. She had also taken notice that Charles had spent quite a lot of time with her since the week her godson Andrew had passed away and that Charles was looking at her in a certain way she did not approve of. She hadn’t approved of Charles’s first relationship with Camilla and she wouldn’t approve of any other relationship with her, no matter what he was dreaming about. It had been a relief for her when Andrew and Camilla had tied the knot, but now… Actually, it wasn’t that she disliked the woman Charles was so fond of: in another world and in another time she might have really liked her. But in this world she couldn’t like her. She had stolen her sweet innocent grandson. Once Camilla had stepped onto the scene, Charles suddenly hadn’t had time for his grandmother anymore, he suddenly had loved another woman more than his grandmother. The dowager Queen had felt an unknown kind of jealousy. She’d always been the most important woman in Charles's life - until Camilla came around.

After Andrew had finally married Camilla, Charles had had numerous girlfriends, but they hadn’t occupied him that much and he hadn’t had as much interest in them as he’d had in Camilla. She knew they still saw each other, but she didn’t think of Camilla as much of a threat anymore. Nonetheless… she should really invite her grandson for a tea time date anytime soon to get him back on track again. There were several girls on her mind she found perfect for Charles and for the role his wife would have to fill. She had to be careful, of course, but Charles would listen to her, she knew. She would be the one to decide on a future Queen.

Later that evening - after endless goodbyes, a very tight hug from Princess Anne and a way too emotional kiss on the cheek from Charles - Camilla felt completely emotionally exhausted. She would spend the night in her parents’ London flat together with her sister and their respective sons Tom and Ben who had stayed at the flat with their nannies all day. She was glad it was over now, but she still couldn’t believe it. What should she do with her life now? It was a question that suddenly flooded her mind. A question she had no answer to. A question that made her cry waves of tears, though she felt like she had no tears left after today.

Neither did it help that Annabel tried to comfort her nor that Tom suddenly had a fit of cries as well. Only when Rosalind took the boys to bed, Bruce offered her a cigarette and Annabel turned on the TV, Camilla didn’t feel as bad anymore. At least until the 6 p.m. news broke and Camilla saw first her broken self walking into the church, then several photos of Andrew and finally - to top it all- Charles talking about Andrew as if they’d been best friends, about being a family friend and something about the armed forces that her shocked mind did barley notice. All while his grandmother was tucking on his sleeve, trying to get him into the car. What on earth had he been thinking?

“His Royal Highness still seems to be fearfully fond of you, darling.”, Rosalind remarked, a subtle tone in voice that Camilla disliked.

„I am very grateful for his support.”, Camilla remarked, her voice surprisingly calm. “He’s a good chap.”

“He certainly is, darling.” Bruce agreed and clutched his eldest daughter’s hand. “You and Tom are very lucky to have him.” His smile tried to imply something, but Camilla wasn’t sure what, so she ignored it. She didn’t have the nerves to discuss her friendship with Charles with her parents. Or anyone else for that matter.

The following weeks passed in a strange blur that altered between staying alive and seeing Charles. Camilla hadn’t wanted to, but Charles had become somewhat of a lifesaver for her. He was just so wonderful with Tom, with the horses, with the dogs… He was just so wonderful with saying the right things, cracking the right jokes, wrapping her into his arms… He still courted her, though, and that sometimes made her heart ache. She didn’t want to give in to his constant efforts, but she got weaker every time. But they hadn’t kissed again- she only allowed him to cuddle her, to wrap his arms around her to make her feel safe.

Her heart and mind tried to fight it, but Camilla had come to realise that she loved Charles. She had come to realise that she was madly in love with him. She had come to realise that she only wanted to be with him. But she tried to push these findings away. No matter how much she loved him and no matter how much he loved her – which she knew he did – their love was without any prospect. Charles had to find a beautiful, aristocratic bride without any ‘history’ and Camilla was none of such. And, most of all, she had no intention of one day becoming Queen. Or seeing Charles being forced to give up the throne. Only secondarily she noticed that she’d had all these thoughts before. It felt like in another life… lighter, without a care in the world… When she and Charles had been an item back in the very early 70s and they’d been madly and desperately in love with each other she had sometimes been afraid that Charles might pop the question at any time. She had been pondering about her possible reply and had come to the firm conclusion that she, out of all the girls in the world, was the most unfitting wife for Charles, The Prince of Wales. She might have been a good wife for Charles, the normal man, but the thought of her as a Princess made her laugh.

Why had life to be so cruel? Why had Andrew been a notorious philanderer? Why did he have to die? Why was she so torn concerning her feelings for Charles? Did she not deserve a little bit of happiness? Camilla didn’t want to be ungrateful, she didn’t want to be depressed, but the grey November weather didn’t particularly brighten her mood when she was all by herself. But she was looking forward to Friday: Charles’s 27th birthday, and he had promised to spend it with her and Tom. That, at least, was something to look forward to.

#queen camilla #King Charles III #queen camilla fic #king charles iii fic #royal fanfiction #royal fic #au #prince charles fic #duchess of cornwall fic

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mandoalorian · 2 years

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save a horse, ride a cowboy

pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

masterlist

warnings: EXPLICIT, no minors. m!masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism to some extent, riding, unprotected p in v. both so so touch starved. joel has a lot to teach the reader.

notes: 1000 notes on my last post— thank you. I haven’t written in a long time and get quite anxious to post new fics, but when the response is that great, how could I not? You make me feel way more confident with my writing and encourage me to post more often. I hope to soon get to a place where I can start accepting requests again and writing what you want me to.

Joel didn’t like you— that much was clear. He hadn’t spoken a word to you since daybreak, when he left Tess at the QZ to deal with ‘unfinished business’ and promised her to deliver you to the outskirts of Boston without Fedra knowing. It was a difficult journey with the soldiers scouting the area on every corner, but after around six hours of travelling on foot, you and Joel had reached the border of Cornwall, Canada, which is exactly where you needed to be.

Unbeknownst to Joel, you wanted to be in Canada because that’s where your parents were. Or so, where you last heard they were. You’d do anything to reunite with them and make sure they were safe but you weren’t exactly good with a gun and you weren’t a particularly fast runner either. You needed someone like Joel to smuggle you out of the Quarantine Zone. He was your protector.

“You haven’t said a word to me all day,” you acknowledged when you couldn’t sleep that night. You lay next to Joel in your own sleeping bag, framed by a roaring fire and underneath tall, forested shelter. “Why?”

Joel huffed out a sigh and rolled over onto his back, now looking up at the starry night sky.

He didn’t reply.

You gave him a few minutes and tried to gather your thoughts, hoping he’d eventually cave and tell you why he’d hated you all this time. Had you done something wrong? You didn’t think so. Hell, you’d only met him earlier in the day. You’d hardly had enough of an influence on him to hate you. You liked to think of yourself as big and strong and apathetic in regards to people’s opinion of you. In the world that you lived in, you couldn’t afford to give a damn. And yet, you did. You couldn’t help it, it was just who you were. You got anxious about it if you thought about it too long and so you would desperately try and find a distraction or think of something else to focus on. The trees— the stars— the fire— Joel.

He was the epitome of ‘grumpy old man’. You briefly wondered if he was this grumpy before the apocalypse. Why was he so highly strung? Sure, life wasn’t exactly good or easy for him— but it wasn’t good or easy for anyone.

“I didn’t tell you why I wanted to go to Canada,” you said slowly, figuring that if you could open up to the man, then maybe he could at least offer you a few words back. “My parents are there. I think they are anyway. My father sent a letter over to the QZ months ago but I only just got it on Tuesday. I don’t know if they’re still there but I need to check. My mom is sick and I just… need to be with them… and I couldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t last two seconds out there with infected. So I guess, what I’m trying to say is, tha—“

“Okay.” Joel cut you off abruptly. He didn’t want your ‘thank you’s’ or your tokens of gratitude. He was doing a job and he was only here to get paid.

“Where are you from?” you asked him quietly. He shuffled but didn’t reply, and so you were prompted to follow on further. “You got an accent. Southern, there’s no doubting that. Tennessee…—?”

“Texas.” Joel corrected and you smiled to yourself. He may have been a man of few words but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you think he was from Tennessee.

“Texas huh?” you beamed brightly. Joel didn’t move his head, but he looked over to you and noticed your grin. “So you’re like, a cowboy.”

You giggled playfully and nudged his arm, but he only grunted and closed his eyes.

“You ever ride a horse?” you asked him.

“You’re annoying,” Joel sighed, rubbing his temples, but he supposed that— if he had to be honest with himself— he was somewhat amused by your plentiful questions. “But yeah. I’ve rode a horse.”

“I always wanted to ride a horse, but I don’t think I’d be any good at it,” you admitted sheepishly. “No co-ordination.”

“It’s all in the hips.” Joel explained and his interest in horses took you by surprise. This was the most he talked all day.

You pursed your lips together fighting back another smile. There was no denying the rush of blood that flushed to your cheeks as you felt them heat up over the thought of the Cowboy riding his horse. But then you remembered how he’d also just expressed his irritation with you and your abundance of pointless questions and you felt your heart drop in your chest slightly. A pang of guilt.

You told yourself that it was okay— no big deal— and it didn’t matter if he found you annoying. No, it didn’t matter that the extremely attractive Texan man who hadn’t uttered a single word to you all day, found you annoying.

You’d been so lonely recently. So lonely. You’d kill for a friend. A partner. Someone. And perhaps it was your fault for getting your hopes up when you met Joel. You figured that maybe you could finally have someone in your life who liked you back for you, and didn’t want to use you or hurt you in some kind of unexpected way.

“I— I don’t mean to be annoying, y’know. I just— I’m sorry,” you murmured, rolling over onto your side and facing the other way from Joel. “Uhm— good night.”

Joel wasn’t a heartless monster. He wasn’t as cold and calculating as he let off to be, but he sure as hell wasn’t innocent and pure-of-heart either. He was a broken shell of a man simply trying to get by, and the way he saw it, he couldn’t afford the time or effort to make friendships or have partners or even anything more than an acquaintance. It just wasn’t on his radar.

And although he was certainly taken aback with how beautiful you were, he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything he wouldn’t do with any other piece of cargo. This was a delivery, after all. A smuggle run. And he had to be professional about it.

But you were so— so beautiful. During the hours of hiking you and Joel did through the fields and forests, he often lagged behind you and consciously allowed you to take the lead when he thought it was safe to do so. Really though, he just liked to take a few seconds to admire you when you weren’t looking. You were funny and smart and although you couldn’t aim a gun to save your life, you might’ve been able to charm a Clicker away from you if you tried hard enough.

Joel enjoyed listening to you babble on, despite displaying no signs or signals to show that he had any interest in you. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t want to lead you on or give you the wrong impression. He really did like you, but if he dared to open his mouth, Joel was certain he’d slip up and say the wrong thing or embarrass himself. And so to him, it was better to not say anything at all. However, his heart would warm when you would get bored along the way and start humming— and eventually singing. You were in no way melidous, but still, you weren’t trying to be. Joel wondered what it would be like in another universe where your lives weren’t constantly at stake. Maybe then he’d grow the courage to actually have a decent conversation with you.

But this wasn’t another universe. This was reality and Joel had lost all hope in humankind a long time ago. Joel allowed himself to get lost in his own thoughts for a long time and by the time he’d snapped out of it, you were already fast asleep next to him, emitting light snores. He watched you, watched as your chest rose and fell with every breath. You looked so peaceful.

Truth was, Joel wasn’t entirely sure he could fall asleep here next to you. There was no way of telling if this forest was safe. Certainly he found it difficult to imagine there’d be signs of infected around but people? That was certainly plausible. Making sure his rifle was close enough to grab in case of an emergency, Joel took another glance towards you.

So goddamn pretty.

Joel didn’t know when, but at some point in the night, he’d gotten hard. Probably because he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you all night. He felt like such a creep for watching you sleep, but even under the pearly white stars and the sunset orange embers bouncing from the campfire, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever saw. And he wanted you.

Now, Joel probably wasn’t as touch-starved as you were, but still, it had been a helluva long time since he last got laid. Without drawing his gaze away from you, he reached his hand down into his sleeping bag and dipped it into his boxer shorts began to pump at his already throbbing manhood. His eyes snapped shut at the shock of the thrill which raced through his body. There was something so erotic about doing this outside, with you laying next to him, unbeknownst to it all. Stifling a groan, with his free hand Joel gathered the material of his sleeping bag and squeezed it with pleasure.

The coarseness, roughness, of his hands was never ideal, but he had no trouble imagining the softness of yours. Your hands were a lot smaller than his, and your fingers were a lot thinner, and as he stroked his cock, his toes curled at the thought of you in between his legs, playing with him.

He hissed your name through his teeth as he begin to feel a knot tie in his lower stomach, indicating that he was close. God, he’d only been at himself for a few minutes and he was going crazy for you. You stirred slightly at the mention of your name but Joel wasn’t paying attention anymore. Now his eyes were shut and his entire body was tensed up as his hand movements became faster. He guessed it wouldn’t be so bad if he finished quick because the longer he touched himself, the more chance you’d wake up and discover him.

But for some reason, that only stirred Joel on even more. Of course, he wasn’t trying to wake you up, but there came a point where he was so enveloped in his own lustfilled thoughts, he didn’t even notice you whisper his name softly through the night.

“Joel?”

Briefly, Joel registered the sound of your voice but he thought nothing of it. So deep in thought— he was close. He moaned your name back.

You stilled, your eyes widening when your gaze dropped to his crotch and you noticed the movements of his hands underneath the thin material of the sleeping bag.

“Oh… Joel.” you mumbled, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you nimbly slipped out of your sleeping bag and quietly crawled over to him.

He still hadn’t noticed you, but between the tinnitus in his right ear and being so lost in his own thoughts, you couldn’t blame him. On your knees and by his side, you placed the palm of your hand on his chest and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, alerting him immediately.

His movements stopped and his eyes snapped open in horror, only to be met by your wide smirk.

“Hey cowboy,” you teased, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Shit.” Joel cursed, looking away from you. “I— you shouldn’t have saw me— I’m—“

You hushed him by placing a soft, chase kiss upon his lips. Joel froze and softened under you, completely feeling at ease under your touch. It has been years since he had been kissed. You hovered over him, finding his gaze in the dark before pressing a harder, more intimate kiss to his lips. Joel moaned underneath you and brought out his hand from under the sleeping bag, releasing his cock and bringing it to cradle the back of your head.

“Let’s get you out of here,” you giggled, unzipping Joel’s sleeping bag and bringing yours next to his, giving you both some kind of barrier between the grassy ground.

Joel’s belt was already undone and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.

Still beaming, you straddled Joel, positioning yourself over his lap and continued unbuttoning his shirt before before peeling it off his torso and discarding it into the corner.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joel asked softly and his tone of voice took you by surprise.

“If I didn’t want to be doing this, I wouldn’t be grinding on you already, cowboy,” you giggled, thrusting your hips over the material of his jeans and getting a feel for his bulge.

Joel swallowed and nodded his head in agreement. Hastily, he brought his hands to your waist and guided you over his hips. You tossed back your head and let out a moan.

“Oh, I need you.” you whimpered, bringing Joel’s hands to your breasts and letting him feel the hard pebbles of your nipples under your t-shirt.

Growing impatient, Joel tugged on your shirt and you let him pull it off your body. He then smoothly unclipped your bra and let it fall off, before using his large, rough hands to cup and fondle your breasts.

“Joel,” you gasped, pushing back onto his legs and taking the hem off his jeans in your grip. “I need you,” you repeated. “Need you inside of me.”

Joel choked out a wanton groan at your words and nodded his head again. You took his signal as confirmation that he wanted this too, and tugged down his denim along with his underwear.

You removed your own pants and then sunk down ontop of him, sighing an air of relief when you felt the skin on skin contact. Joel adjusted himself and gave you a questioning look.

“I’m ready.” you whispered and leaned down, pressing your chest against Joel’s. Joel pushed himself inside of you and you tensed up, digging your nails into his shoulders as you adjusted to him. He was so big and thick, and yet he felt like he fit inside you perfectly. Like he was made for you.

Joel slowly thrusted upwards and into you, stretching you out. When you felt comfortable enough, you sat upright and rested your hands on his tummy.

“Show me how to ride, cowboy,” You urged. “You said earlier, it’s all in the hips? Show me.”

Joel looked up at you with wide eyes and extended his arms around you. He held onto you, and you felt like putty under his grip.

“Show me what you got, girl.” The handsome man demanded, his voice having dropped an octave.

You began to roll your hips over him, and Joel squeezed his eyes shut. “That feel good for you?” you taunted, letting a giggle escape your lips. Joel wordlessly nodded.

“Try— try circle your hips.” Joel requested, and immediately you changed your movements. You’d do anything to please him. You felt yourself get increasingly wet, making it easier and more comfortable to move freely. “That’s good.” he praised under his breaths.

“This is how you ride?” you enquired, raising an eyebrow as you continued to circle your hips.

“This is how you learn,” Joel corrected. “It’s all a process, baby girl. You go straight into the ridin’, you’ll get hurt.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed himself into you, the curve of his cock hitting you in just the right spot, You held onto him, gripping onto the broad of his back and this time, Joel kissed you. He yearned for your lips— for your affection. He dragged his tongue along your collarbone and planted sloppy kisses up your neck, along your jaw, and finally to your mouth. He slid his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entry, which you quickly granted him, and started to make out with you.

“Joel,” you whispered against his lips, and he pulled off you, allowing you to speak. “I need more.”

“Think you’re ready for your next lesson?” he quizzed, pressing his nose against yours.

“Mhm.” you replied. “Teach me.”

Joel leaned back again and brought his hands down to your hips. “I want you to bounce on my cock sweet girl, show me what you can do.”

You grinned with excitement and began to move yourself up and down, grinding on his cock so you could feel every ridge and vein against your walls.

You felt yourself clench around him, indicating that you were close.

“Shit, like this I won’t last long.” Joel admitted bashfully, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Me neither,” you replied, and began to speed up your movements. “Joel— please. Please cum inside of me.”

Joel panted, bringing his hands up to massage your tits. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, oh— please.” you begged him. “Please cowboy.”

With those two words, Joel spurted ropes of his warm seed inside of you, painting your walls a milky white. Feeling him fill you, you clenched one last time around his cock and let a blinding hot light envelope you as you rode out your own high.

You rolled off the man and laid next to him, catching your breath. “How was that? Did I pass the test?” you nudged him playfully.

Joel let out a laugh and you felt your heart flutter at the sound of him displaying genuine happiness. “You passed the test,” he chuckled. “But— there’s still plenty more for you to learn.”

“Well,” you shrugged. “You do make a pretty good teacher.”

Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his chest. “Sun will rise in a few hours, you should go back to sleep.” he hummed into your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, still in sheer bliss, and smiled.

You couldn’t believe that just a few hours earlier, you were so sure that Joel hated you.

You’d never been so wrong.

——— Taglist: ———

(I’m working on rebuilding a brand new taglist ever since returning to Tumblr. Let me know if you want to be added!)

@pedrosprincess

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #smut #tlou #the last of us

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