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sameheart-sameblood · 2 years ago

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Love in the Time of Cordyceps

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: when the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. joel miller makes that rule hard to stick to

words: 7.1k

warnings: mentions of gore (pretty tame but still), swearing, sickness, angst, fluff, two dummies not realizing they love each other until one of them almost dies 🙄

a/n: this was supposed to be more angsty but then i remembered life is hard enough already. and i just want soft joel soooo here we are. also i meant to write 2k at most but boy do i love to ramble

read on ao3!

After the world goes to hell, you promise yourself you’ll never love again. A person, an animal, a place, nothing. Only a fool would choose to make themselves that vulnerable, needing every fiber of your being one hundred percent devoted to your survival and nothing more.

Was a life without love worth living? Every time that question enters your mind, you swat it aside. It’s like a nagging fly that buzzes around you until your persistence finally drives it away completely. Of course you could live without love. You’d been doing it just fine these past fifteen years.

Living without attachment proves useful in the new world you find yourself in. It makes the countless people you lose along the way easier to move on from. In the early days, your heart still twinges as the people around you drop like flies. Most fall victim to the bites of clickers, some to raiders’ gun, a few by their own hand.

The first group you had travel with is filled with Midwesterners who see the terrors of the new world and still somehow have a smile and a joke for you. Their joviality can’t save them, though. Clickers swarm you one rainy night two years after the fall of civilization. The sight of Gail, a woman who reminds you of your grandmother, having her stomach ripped out by an especially voracious clicker cures you of your need for any connections to the living.

Over the years, you make your way to the East Coast. Smiles, defiant in the face of adversity are replaced by permanent grimaces etched into the faces of everyone you meet. It seems as though every survivor has lost the ability for happiness of any kind. Good, you think, they’re finally learning. You wonder what took them so long.

Tales of peace the Canadian wilderness has to offer reaches your ears. In your heart you know it is most likely a tall tale spread by desperate survivors. But the good thing about a zombie apocalypse is you now have nothing but time on your hands. Working your way north, if all goes well, you’ll reach Saint John by May, continue to Port Elgin and then decide if you’d try for Prince Edward Island or turn east to Nova Scotia.

Plans are made to be broken, though, and yours, along with your ankle, break clean through one day as you make your way through Boston. It would have been over for you if not for the two survivors that find you nursing your injury in a department store that will most likely be swarming with clickers by nightfall.

The woman, after she puts her gun away, introduces herself as Tess. The man doesn’t offer his name, preferring to keep the barrel of his shotgun pointed at you. As they argue quietly over what to do with you, you observe their faces. Both are etched hard with years of loss and worry. Even harder than your joyless face. It’s impressive albeit in a sad kind of way.

Tess had somehow persuades the man to help you back to the Boston QZ. Joel. You hear her call him Joel. “Fine,” he had grumbles as he places your arm over his shoulder for support, “but if she scans red, I will not hesitate to put her down.” Oddly enough his threat somehow makes you almost like him. You sense a kindred spirit. Another follower of the “no love, no attachment” way of life.

You do not, in fact, scan red and are allowed to enter the QZ. An apartment is assigned to you, a crappy little studio with faded lime green paint. The old you would have adored it, called it quirky and planned out how best to decorate it with your meager funds. The new you just appreciates a safe place to sleep.

After your ankle heals, Tess invites you to join her smuggling scheme. Thoughts of Canada flee your mind for the time-being and you gladly welcome something to keep yourself occupied.

“But what about the cowboy?” you ask.

“Joel? What about him?”

Your eyebrows arch, “He threatened to shoot me.”

“Only if you were infected. Just don’t get infected.” She says it like you’re discussing the weather.

Joel allows you into the group begrudgingly, probably because he thinks they can use you as bait or a distraction if needed. Fine. Let them label you bait. You’ve been called worse before.

The first few months working together are tense. Joel reprimands you for the smallest mistakes and warns Tess you’ll get them all killed. At first, you bite your tongue, reminding yourself of the part he had in saving you. But one night after he scolds you for the millionth time about not checking your blind spots for clickers, you snap. “Fuck off, Joel! I survived the clickers for fifteen years. I think I know what I’m fucking doing!.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, wandering off with a hurt pout like he wasn’t the one who was just being the asshole. You wonder why your victory leaves you feeling hollow.

After that, Joel keeps his mouth shut around you. No nagging, no “helpful” tips. Just the bare minimum of whatever he needs to convey. You’ll never admit that it hurts. You don’t have to, though. Tess, at the end of her rope, explodes one night as the three of you eat dinner in awkward silence. “Couple of fuckin’ babies I’m working with,” she seethes. “If you don’t grow up I’m finding a new crew.”

It’s decided that you and Joel will do the next supply run to Bill’s. Alone. No Tess there to act as buffer between you and him. Joel grunts at that but doesn’t argue, always deferring to your leader. The trip to Bill’s goes as well as you can ask. There are no arguments between the two of you at least. You’re sure you even see Joel crack a smile. Of course it’s when you clumsily tripped over a raised tree root…But hey, progress is progress.

With the supplies in tow and Frank’s compound behind you, you actually think this trip might be a success. A gang of raiders lying in wait to sabotage you dashes your hopes of that. They had seen the two of you lugging your supplies and thought it would be an easy win. At first, they are correct. They outnumber you and Joel in size and wickedness. The four of them aren’t content to kill you outright. They tie you up and discuss what to do with you next.

Of course their attention quickly falls on you. The man with an ugly gash across his face leers at you. “Maybe we should keep her around awhile. She looks like fun.” Try as you might to act tough, that sends the blood rushing through your ears.

You almost don’t hear Joel snarl at them. “You lay one finger on her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” The venom in his voice snaps you back to reality. While their attention is on him, you discreetly start ripping at your bonds with the little pocket knife you thankfully decided to stow in your back pocket.

They beat Joel senseless by the time you get free. You honestly think you’re too late as you stab the goon nearest to you in the thigh, by some miracle hitting his femoral artery. The others turn to you, blindsided as you go wild at the sight of your bloodied and broken companion. Gash-Face comes roaring at you, all brawn no brains. The look of surprise as you lodge the knife in his neck makes you smile with sickening glee.

The remaining two corner you, murder in their eyes. Your gun is just beyond them, taunting you to come retrieve it. The only “weapon” you have is the belt you’re wearing, it’s clasp heavy and silver. You undo it and swing it at the nearest man. He grabs it, cackling victoriously as he uses it to pull you closer. In their grasp, you become the target of their blows. You curl into the fetal position, angry that after all the near death experiences you’ve had, this will be the way you go out.

A shot rings out, then another. Two thuds on the ground next to you make you open your already swollen eyes. As you look up, you realize your savior is Joel. Back from the dead. His face is covered in blood, like some kind of ghoul. But in that moment, you have never seen someone look more like an angel. The two of you limp back to the QZ where Tess nurses you as she simultaneously curses the deceased thugs.

Joel corners you in the bathroom the next day as you study your bruised face. “You could have run,” he hisses at you, making you jump. You don’t know what he wants so you just shrug. He invades your space, making you back against the counter. “Why didn’t you run?” His voice has gone low, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Faces inches from each other, all you can muster is a weak, “We’re a team. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Several emotions flicker across his face in quick succession. Anger, fear, worry and something you can’t quite put your finger on. Pride? Maybe that was you projecting but you hope you were right. Joel studies you for a moment longer, then reiterates, “Next time, you run.”

******

After that, things change. Joel is still a man of few words but the ones he does grace you with are softer and more intentional. Instead of berating you for the knowledge and skills you lack, he takes them time to teach you. He shows you how to identify fake ration cards and to spot the kind of guard you can bribe. Nights are spent with you following behind him like a shadow as he shows you all the secret ways in and out of the QZ. When your hands shake during target practice, he places his calloused ones over yours. It steadies your hands but frays your nerves, threatening to awake a feeling long thought dormant.

It goes both ways. Joel lacks attention to detail in certain situations and you show him how to read people and ascertain their flaws that can be exploited. During your runs you point out the flora that can be consumed safely or used as medicine. At Flynn’s, the only bar in the QZ, you teach him how to play pool. An essential to survival? No. But it sure helps you win a huge stash of ration cards from your fellows survivors. It also gives you an excuse to sidle up behind him and mold your body around his, all in the name of helping him get the “proper pool stance.”

Your excuses to fleetingly touch one another became more and more common. They are all perfectly innocent but carry the weight of something elicit, at least to you. Joel is never one to give away his innermost thoughts, happy to wear a permanent poker face. For all you know he couldn’t care less about you. Maybe he just knows keeping you alive is good for business and that’s why he takes a particular interest in making sure you’re safe. Whatever the reason, you hope he never stops.

******

During one supply run, a torrential thunderstorm forces you to spend the night at Bill and Frank’s. You know it makes Joel nervous to be indebted to anyone for such hospitality but you can’t hide your glee. A night there means a cozy bed and a hot shower, something hard to find in your home where the water runs tepid at best.

Afterwards spending way too long in the bathroom, you curl up in your bed, toasty and content, only to find sleep won’t not come. Your hosts are dear to you, even the grumpy Bill, but their snoring through the wall you share makes hopes for a deep sleep impossible.

After an hour of tossing and turning, you decide to go make your bed on the couch. As you tiptoe down the stairs you run into Joel, on his way up . “Going somewhere?” he drawls, exhaustion making his voice deeper than usual. You shrug, “Couldn’t sleep. There are two buzzsaws in the room next door.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ve had that room before. Can’t say it was the best night of sleep I’ve ever had.” You lived for these little snippets into Joel’s life before you came around, always eager to hear more. But the trek to the house through never-ending sleet and over the turbulent river left you more tired than you had felt in years. Right now all you want is to get where you could pass out immediately. “I’m just gonna make camp on the couch,” you say, stifling a yawn.

Joel shakes his head. “You take my room. The couch is good enough for me.” This man. Hadn’t anyone told him chivalry is dead. You sigh tiredly and beckon for him to come back up the stairs with you. “It’s a big bed. We can share.” There is silence behind you where there should have been footsteps. Joel’s smile disappears as his forehead creases in thought. “Please,” you pout, “I can’t sleep in my room and I won’t get any rest knowing you’re crammed on that dainty little loveseat.”

It takes far more coaxing than it should but finally Joel gives you a little nod and follows you into his - your - room. You gesture to the bed, “Care which side you get?” Joel thinks, then shrugs. “Left is good.” You flop onto the right side, eyes immediately drooping shut. Once again, there is no movement from your companion. Without opening your eyes, you chide him, “If you’re gonna be weird and watch me sleep all night then you can go sleep on the couch.” That got him moving again.

The sound of the shower turning on lulls you to a sleep that is disturbed only when you feel the dip of the bed several minutes later. You watch through barely opened eyes as Joel does a strange shimmy under the covers. It’s clear he’s trying his best not to wake you. The sight makes you laugh softly and his head whips to you.

“Thought you were asleep,” he murmurs.

You hum, “I was. You woke me up.”

It’s meant to be a joke but Joel grimaces. “Sorry.”

The sight is sweet and your heart flips, his frown making him look almost boyish. “It’s ok. It’s your bed.”

As you burrow into your cocoon of blankets, Joel props himself up, a pillow behind his back. He looks from you to the bedside lamp and back again. “You mind if I read for a few minutes?”

That surprises you. In all your time together you had rarely seen Joel do something just for the pleasure of it. There was usually no time. But Bill and Frank’s is a sanctuary and even the hyper-vigilant Joel Miller is able to slow down here. You nod enthusiastically, perking up. “What are you reading?”

It’s like you had asked him what his darkest secret was. He reddens, then finally grabs a book from the table. Pride and Prejudice. He stammers, “It’s just…I never had a lot of time for reading before and this was a favorite of…it was a favorite of somebody I knew.”

“You can read out loud to me if you want,” you offer with a grin. Honestly it was half in jest and half a serious hope. It had been decades since anyone had read aloud to you. Joel, always thinking you were making some sort of fun of him, smirks sarcastically. “Not a chance.”

Your glower slowly melts away at the sight of him putting on his reading glasses and settling in. Silently you curse as you feel your hardened heart crack just the tiniest bit. Idiot that you are, you try to talk yourself out of your own feelings. You aren’t attached to Joel. How could you be? He’s just a handsome, rugged man who keeps you safe and reads Jane Austen in his spare time. Maybe some lesser fool would fall for him but not you. No, sir.

The next morning, you find yourself curled into him, chest pressed against his back and arm draped over his side. Like a bomb diffuser, you carefully try to extricate yourself from the position, every movement slow and precise. Joel, still asleep, lazily grabs your hand, keeping your arm around him. He sighs contentedly as you settle back down and you swear under your breath, nestling your head at the crook of his neck. You are so that lesser fool.

******

The thunderstorms of summer give way to the pleasant days of autumn. Those good days don’t seem to last long enough. You should have appreciated them more while they were there but so is the way of being human.

Winter in Boston isn’t fun. Ok that’s an understatement. It makes you long for the soul-sucking, never-ending Midwestern winters you had lived through for most of your life. There is something about being next to the ocean that makes everything feel colder.

The nights are especially hard, the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls of your apartment. No matter how many blankets you tuck around yourself, your body never truly feels warm. Runs to Bill’s or anywhere outside the QZ become less frequent and more difficult. Only those deemed truly necessary are attempted and even then there is always a long discussion beforehand weighing out the pros and cons.

Runs between the months of November and January are too risky and after much debate, it is decided you three would lay low in the relative safety of the QZ. In the meantime, you’d assess your stockpile, make connections over the radio and wait for the spring thaw. With less food smuggled in from the outside, you decide to put your energy into earning ration cards. Even though no one could argue you don’t pull your weight in the group, you often feel like the weak link. Making sure Tess and Joel have a hot meal every night is the least you could do.

Joel had always told you to stay away from sewer work. It paid double what the other jobs did but at a high risk. Besides not being able to wash the stink off for days, the tunnels under the city were treacherous. Many had gone down there only to be blindsided by a stray clicker or jumped by a loner who made their home away from society up above. Some just got lost in the labyrinth, never to be heard from again. Or at least you had been told. You hoped those were just myths.

You and three other desperate souls are sent down to the sewers with the task of clearing the rubble from a recent cave in. A hard day’s work definitely but you were optimistic that you could get it done in a few hours time and be on your way.

The first few hours go well, the biggest pieces of the concrete being cleared easily enough. Your back aches and callouses quickly form on your palms. But still, all of that you can deal with, mollifying yourself with the thought of the stack of ration cards you’ll proudly gift to Joel and Tess.

Maybe if you hadn’t been daydreaming you would have heard the shouts of your fellow volunteers sooner. Finally coming back to reality, you move just in time to avoid another piece of falling rock. You save yourself from being crushed but lose your footing, coming down hard on your shin.

A stream of bright blood instantly trickles from the gash and you swear as you try to keep the tears that spring to your eyes at bay. Wanting to prove yourself, you brush off your group’s insistence that you go get it checked by the doctor. It doesn’t matter if you complete ninety percent of your shift. You still don’t get your payment if you leave early. So you suck it up for another hour, slogging through the muck as you finish the job. It’s fine, you tell yourself, it’s just a scratch. You’ll wash it off when I get home and be good as new.

With the job done and ration cards tucked away in your pocket, you hobble back towards your apartment. The thought of a shower, as lukewarm as it will be, is the only thing keeping you upright. That is until you feel someone putting your arm around their shoulder. Joel helps you the few blocks to your house, his icy silence hurting you more than the cut that now throbs with every jostle.

It’s only after you get inside and are deposited on the couch that Joel speaks. He rolls up the leg of your jeans, cursing as he sees the already festering wound. “I told you to stay out of the sewers.”

You suck in a pained breath as he starts wiping away the dirt. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. Besides, it was worth it,” you pull out the stack of ration cards and present them to him proudly. The sight gives him pause. But the look on his face isn’t one of gratitude, it’s worried exasperation. His signature grimace returns, “It’s not worth it if you lose your leg.” And people claim you’re dramatic.

Pushing him away with a shoo, you rise, limping to the bathroom. “I just need a shower. Then I’ll be right as rain.” As you peel off your now ruined clothes, Joel hovers on the other side of the door. “I can hear you pacing,” you call over the sound of the warming shower.

Even through the almost closed door you can hear Joel sigh. “I just think we should take you to the doc. Make sure you’re alright.” The water hitting you makes you audibly moan, the filth on your body washing down the drain and with it, the memory of the hard day. You appreciate the concern but all you want to do know is forget about the day. You call out to a still pacing Joel, “I’m fine. You worry too much!”

******

It turns out Joel worries the right amount. Of course he does. As eager as you are to forget about your day, it’s not long before you can’t ignore your leg. The wound is an angry red and the area around it has swollen, leaving it tender and throbbing. Thankfully you have Joel there to dress it because, honestly, you can’t stomach the sight of it. These past years have been filled with much blood and gore at your own hands. But there’s something different when it’s your own blood.

In any other circumstance you would have reveled in the feeling of Joel holding your leg so tenderly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he wraps the bandage around you. It would have driven you insane seeing him crouched in between your legs as he is now. But at the moment all you can think about is how you much pain you’re in.

You try not to show your discomfort, but your poker face is nonexistent. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours as you slowly exhale, trying to keep calm. Avoidance has always been one of your favorite tactics when dealing with uncomfortable situations so you pipe up, overly perkily, “See? All better. Now about those ration cards, I was thinking for dinner-“

Joel rolls his eyes, standing with a groan, his knees audibly cracking. “The only thing you’re gonna do tonight is rest.”

You slowly turn your body to prop your leg up on a pillow as he watches. Pouting has never worked on Joel but you figure it never hurts to try. “I still have to eat,” you mope.

“You will. I’ll open a can of soup or something.”

The disappointment is real and bubbles to the surface quicker than you realized it would. “I just wanted us all to have a nice dinner. You and Tess do so much and I feel like…” Thinking how you feel is different from saying it out loud and you have to psych yourself up. Joel’s softening gaze helps you continue. “I feel like I’m useless. I just thought this was one thing I could do to really contribute.”

The silence between you feels heavy as you avoid his stare. Finally, he speaks, confusion contorting his features, “Of course you contribute. We wouldn’t have kept you around if you hadn’t.” It’s meant to make you feel better but it doesn’t, especially in your current laid up state.

“So are you going to get rid of me if I’m no longer useful?” you gesture at your leg, feeling your eyes beginning to sting with tears.

Joel sits down next to you. Your fear has made you defiant and you meet his gaze, wanting to fight. But Joel speaks in a soft, level voice, as if teaching a child a lesson. “First of all, you’re going to get better. You just need to be patient. Second, you’re thinking there’s only one kind of way to be useful.”

“I can’t shoot like you two can. I can’t fight. I can’t threaten people into getting what I want. I can go on runs and earn ration cards. That’s it. I’m too soft for anything actually important.”

Joel frowns, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. ‘Being soft’ in a world like this is an act of defiance. It’s brave as hell. What you consider important? I don’t want that for you.”

Warmth spreads through your chest as you observe him. He’s trying so hard to find his next words, to make you believe his truth. “Me and Tess, we let the world harden us more than it needed to. It was easier that way. But having you around reminds us there’s still innocence and good out there.”

The angry tears have turned to ones of gratitude. The sentiment is too much for you, unused to such vulnerability from Joel. You give him a small smile and he returns it, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. “You’re useful just being you.”

While you still wish you matched Joel and Tess’ levels of badassery, the conversation helps ease your mind. You might not think much of your survival skills but you remind yourself that you’ve stayed alive in a world that wants you dead. Fifteen years you’ve been fighting and surviving and that’s nothing to look down on.

“And for what it’s worth, “ he adds, “you scared the hell out of me the first time we met.”

You grin at him, shocked, “Really?”

He nods, smirking cheekily, “Really. Still do sometimes.”

******

Joel heats up a can of tomato soup for you to share. You try not to think of how old it must be as he prepares it. But actually, it’s not bad, the taste reminding you of your childhood.

It also helps that you’re sharing it with someone you care about. A part of you hates that how easily you’ve let him into your heart. The one thing you swore off all those years ago is now all you can think about as you watch him sitting across from you, ladling out the steaming liquid.

He catches you staring and breaks the silence, “Were you even going to tell me you got hurt today if I hadn’t run into you.” The fuzziness of your feelings for him makes your brain a little mushy and instead of having a grownup conversation, you reply with a childish, “No, I thought I’d let it be a soup-rise.”

Joel rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. You chuckle and continue eating your rapidly cooling dinner. You sober up a bit and add, “The extra ration cards will be good, though. Right?”

He nods, “Yeah. I think it’s soup-er.” His eyes flick up to yours as they crinkle, the only sign that he finds himself amusing.

After dinner, Joel excuses himself to go work his overnight shift. When he leaves and you’re left along, the throbbing in your leg returns with a vengeance along with a mild fever. Your usually chilly apartment now feels stuffy and you have to remove all of your layers except your t-shirt to be even somewhat comfortable.

Worry creeps in as you sit there, alone and increasingly unwell. You long for the company of Joel or Tess, anyone to reassure you that you’re fine. But you’re alone and the dark thoughts creep in, whispering in your ear that whatever is brewing is not good. Unsure of what else to do, you slip in to bed, hoping that whatever this is will be better by morning.

******

You don’t wake for two days. Or at least, you have no real memory of the past 48 hours. Later, when the worst is over, Joel will tell you the details of that lapse in your memory. He’ll recount how you faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes submitting to your fever for so long that he wasn’t sure you were coming back. His voice will waver as he remembers how bad it got and how fragile you looked…

But for now, he stays by your side, foregoing his own health to make sure you stay alive. The first thing you remember is waking up to the sounds of Joel and Tess arguing in hushed tones.

“We need to get her to a doctor. Now.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, like he’s trying desperately not to lose it.

Tess still maintains her signature composure. “We can’t, Joel. It’s too late for that.”

Joel must make some kind of face because Tess sighs and re-words. “It’s too late to take her in because if we bring her to the hospital all they’ll focus on is her fever. They’ve put people down for way less. You know that.”

In your addled state, you wonder who they’re talking about. Your throat hurts to much to speak up though and ask.

“The doc will give us the meds. We’ve bribed him before.”

Tess shakes her head, “Antibiotics are on lockdown. Shipments have been delayed because of the weather. No one gets any without FEDRA knowing. Breaking in guarantees we get caught. We’re no good to her dead. ”

Joel scoffs, “So what do you suggest we do?”

“She rides it out.”

“She’s been ‘riding it out’ for two days. Look at her,” Joel’s voice gets closer as he peers down at you, “she’s fighting but she’s losing.”

Oh. Fever may have taken hold of you, making your brain fuzzy and concentration near impossible, but you understand now that you are the subject of their argument. For Joel to sound so forlorn you must look bad.

If you’re dead soon, you want to let them know to leave it and just let you slip away. Your well-being means nothing if it puts them in unnecessary danger. Rule be damned, they’re your family now and you care about them. If you’re being honest, you’ve cared about them since you met them. It breaks your heart thinking you won’t be able to tell them that now. It nearly kills you right then and there to know you won’t get the chance to tell Joel you love him…

Opening your mouth to articulate all of that takes great effort and when you do try and speak, all that comes out is a strangled groan. The two rush over, Tess sitting down beside you. She takes your hand, an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Yep, you’re dying.

“You’re ok, kid,” she whispers, “you just have to hang in there.” It would be easy to ignore reality and blindly trust her. But you’ve always been stubborn and so you shake your head and continue trying to speak. Again, nothing comes out but garbled nonsense as you writhe around trying to make your limbs do what your brain wants.

You must look a sight because Joel lets his anger overflow. “Maybe you can sit here and watch her die, but I can’t.”Heavy footsteps and Tess yelling are all that you can focus on as you fade back into oblivion.

******

Living is hard and unconsciousness is addicting. Peaceful and cozy are feelings you can scarcely remember having. It would be easy to stay in that enveloping darkness but the feeling of the back of someone’s hand on your clammy forehead pulls you back to the realm of the living. You grumble weakly as you’re made to come to.

Everything is painful. Stabbing jolts of electricity radiate up your leg from the cut. Your chest is tight, making breathing troublesome and your eyes can barely stand the dim, watery sun coming through the shades of the window. Someone places a damp cloth on your forehead to keep the fever at bay. Still out of it, you try and swat it away.

A gentle hand grabs yours, shushing you. “It’s alright. It’s only me.”

Joel. Maybe you have died and this is heaven. The man you love by your side, nursing you so tenderly. It’s more than you could have ever hoped for. This might be the afterlife believers talk about if only you weren’t in so much pain. The neurons in your brain begin firing more rapidly as your fever dies down. They remind you that you and Joel aren’t lovers. Your cowardice, disguised as intelligence, has kept you from telling him how you feel.

“What’s happening?” Your voice comes out croaky and soft but at least it’s intelligible. The bed dips as Joel moves closer to you. As you peer up through barely opened eyelids you can see him leaning over you. His tired eyes look down at you as he caresses your hair.

“You got real sick, honey. That cut you got festered and turned into a fever. We thought we were gonna lose you.” The slight falter in his voice makes your already tight chest contract.

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. We got you some meds, though. You’re gonna be ok.” He says it firmly, which does some good in easing your worry.

Trying to open your eyes a bit more you continue your questioning, “Where did you get the antibiotics from?”

Joel hesitates, “Bill and Frank had some.”

You try and sit up, angry that he made that trip and put himself in danger. Even now, you can see the snow whipping around outside your window. Knowing he made the trek there and back through that storm makes you curse. Joel tuts and puts a gentle hand to your chest, keeping you down and resting.

“It’s done. No use getting angry about it now.”

You glare up at him even though you’re really just upset with yourself. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

His smiles peacefully down at you, exhausted but eyes bright. “We’re a team, remember?”

It’s too much for you to handle. You cover your face just in time to hide the angry, relieved and grateful tears that spring to your eyes. Silent sobs wrack your frame, making you seize with pain.

Joel pulls you into him, shushing you as he resumes stroking your hair. You hide your face in his side, trying to regain your composure. Crying shouldn’t be something you feel the need to earn. But you’re all sorts of broken, so you take this rare opportunity to not judge yourself and weep with abandon. You almost died, for Christ’s sake. Surely that warrants some show of emotion.

After a few minutes, the tears stop and your breathing calms. Peeking up, you see Joel has his eyes closed. His face is the most serene you’ve seen it in ages, most of the worry lines softened. There’s still a few that refuse to relax, though. The crease in between his eyebrows remains stubbornly indented. You gaze up at him as he continues to run soothing patterns along your back.

Feeling the weight of your stare, he opens his eyes. Coward that you are, you glance away. “Thank you,”is all you can mumble out as he gazes at you. After a moment, you add a shy, “I would do the same for you. You know that, right?”

Joel pulls you gently into him, almost to remind himself you’re still here with him and that the danger has passed. He nuzzles into your hair, murmuring an affectionate“I know, honey. I know.”

******

After a few more hours and another dose of antibiotics, you begin to feel more like yourself. Joel still won’t let you get out of bed yet, except for a trip to the bathroom for a quick shower. Even though you’ve been dead to the world for much of your ordeal, you’re quickly getting bored with bed rest. But you’ve learned long ago that resistance is futile with Joel. So you shower like a good patient, scowling as the water hits your scabbing cut.

Once you finish, Joel hops in and washes the grime and worry of the past three days off. As you settle back in bed, you can hear him singing softly to himself. Through the patter of the water you can hear his soft rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird. It’s one of your favorites, too, and you hum along as you settle back into your pillow.

After a few minutes, sleep still won’t come. You toss and turn as Joel finishes getting ready for bed. He comes in to find you still awake. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.” He says it like a loving mother gently scolding their rebellious child.

You flail as you try and get comfortable. You shoot back a moody, “But I’m just not tired.” Joel chuckles as he sits down into the arm chair next to your bed. He smooths back his wet hair and gives you a faux stern look. “Your body’s been through a lot. You need rest.”

“What are you doing?” you ask.

Joel looks confused, wondering what he did wrong. “Sorry I just thought I’d sleep here tonight in case you need anything. I can leave, though.”

“No!” you yell out, completely abandoning any hope of looking cool. You give him an apologetic smile, “I want you to stay but you’re not sleeping in that chair one more night.”

Joel glances to the spot on the bed beside you, then looks to you for confirmation. He sighs, a smile playing at his lips. “If I stay will you promise to go to sleep?”

You nod very seriously. “Of course.”

Joel grins, knowing you too well to believe you. “Liar,” he chuckles but still gets up and makes his way to the other side of the bed. You pull back the blankets so can get in, then cover him up. Settling on your side, you watch as he suddenly looks lost, unsure of what to do now. It’s cute, this powerful man rendered helpless by something as innocuous as sharing a bed.

You can’t help but laugh at him and he looks down at you, eyes wide. Taking pity on him, you make a suggestion. “If you’re not tired you could read to me.” Joel opens his mouth to refuse but you blurt out a quick, “I did almost die, you know.” He glares at you but his lip quirks up. He grabs the book from the other room then flops back down in bed, opening to a spot in the middle.

Frowning, you reach out to touch Joel’s arm. “Do you mind starting from the beginning?” He rolls his eyes but flips back to the first page. You grin triumphantly as you settle into his side. Joel places his arm around your shoulder as he begins to read. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife…”

His southern drawl mixed with the Romantic Era style of writing makes for an amusing but pleasant combination. After a few chapters, your eyes get heavy and Joel feels you nodding off against him. Jane has just been invited to Netherfield Park but even that can’t keep you awake. Joel puts the bookmark in to save your spot and places the novel on your bedside table.

You grumble in weak protest as he tucks you in and turns off the light. “We can keep reading tomorrow. But right now you’re going to sleep.” Joel lies down beside you and with the pale light of the moon through your curtains you can see him studying you. He caresses your face and you close your eyes, delighting in the sensation.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispers.

You force your eyes open, needing him to see the truth of it when you pledge a soft,“I won’t. I mean it.”

Joel nods gratefully and you reach out for him. He slides into your arms and you rest your chin on the top of his head. He’s watched over you for long enough. It’s your turn to take care of him and reassure him that, in this moment, you both are safe.

For most, an outright admission of affection is needed to understand how you feel about the other person. But you and Joel are cut from the same cloth, stubborn and slow to reveal your feelings. In this world, for people like you, ’I love yous’ are rare and replaced with actions and deeds.

You realize that even though you've never told Joel that you love him, you’ve shown it. Joel has been showing you all this time too and you were just too dull to realize it. While you know you’ll long to say the words to him soon, for now it’s enough to have him in your arms.

Joel’s breathing deepens and you feel him completely give himself over to sleep. Looking at his face bathed in the moonlight he looks like a new man. His edges soften and his vulnerability brims to the surface. It tugs at your heart and you understand how rare of a sight this is for Joel to allow anyone to see.

Smiling sleepily, you close your eyes and nestle into him. This feeling coursing through you is something foreign but familiar, an old friend you thought you had said your final goodbye to long ago. The love you have for Joel will leave you vulnerable. But it’s a price you’re willing to pay a thousand times over.

******

#im on a mission to make joel as soft as possible lol #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #allie writes

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oo-delallymrcrow · 7 months ago

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Ride A Cowboy

A/N: Hii idk if you take requests or even write smut but if you do could i request pre war coop teaching the reader some cowboy stuff like maybe how to ride a horse or lasso tricks. While hes teachinf her he cant take his eyes of her body and how cute she looks when shes focused. Then He like pulls her into a barn or something then teaches her how to ride a cowboy 🤭

This was my first request, and I was so excitied about it that I immediately got to writing! I hope this lives up to your expectations, anon!

18+ no minors

In the studio's corral, Y/N watched as Cooper trotted around with Sugarfoot. She watched in amazement as he maneuvered her around barrels. Jumping over a few planks. He was a natural as he slowed and came to a stop in front of her. He gave her a sly smirk and a wink as he tipped his cowboy hat to her.

“We'll howdy darling. Is there anything this ol’ cowboy can help you with?”

Y/N laughed as she shook her head at him. She felt warm as her cheeks went red and she looked down. She's always had a crush on the moviestar and it didn't help when he acted just like his on screen character.

“Oh nothing I was just admiring you on Sugarfoot.”

She always admired the grace and freedom of horseback riding but had never dared to try it herself. He smiled down warmly at her as he patted the side of Sugarfoots neck.

“Well, how about you hop on up and I'll take you around the corral.”

“Oh, I don't know,” she drawled out as he get down and stood before her. Y/N’s gaze fluttered around his face as he took a step closer.

“You know I won't let anything happen to you sweetheart.”

The way his voice got low as he leaned into her made her shiver and bite her lip. His eyes dropped down to her lips before looking back at her gaze with a grin. He reached down to grab her hand.

“Now,” he turned and tugged her along as he stopped next to Sugarfoot. “Let's get you riding.”

Nervously, Y/N let Cooper maneuver her infront of him. He let her pet Sugarfoot to calm her nerves as he murmured. “Good girl. You're being so good for me.”

Y/N swallowed as her eyes got wide. Surely he was talking to the horse. She shook her head and let out a nervous laugh, of course he was talking to the horse.

“You alright sweetheart?”

“Fine just fine,” she murmured but jumped as his hands settled on her hips.

“Whoa, easy there girl,” he chuckled, his breath hitting her ear at how close he was to her. “Just gonna help you up here.”

With patience and guidance, Cooper helped Y/N mount the horse. She reached up to grab the saddle and Cooper helped guide her foot into the stirrup. She let out a squeak as his other hand was placed on her ass to help push her up and swing her leg over. He chuckled and glanced up as she stared down at him.

“Sorry about that sweetheart,” he winked at her and grabbed the reins. He handed them to her and she grabbed them with shaky hands. He grabbed the reins where they were hanging down and looked up at her with a smile. “Ready?”

She smiled and nodded with a shaky breath, “ready.”

He smiled and clicked tongue, tugging the reins to make Sugarfoot start walking. Cooper walked alongside them, offering gentle words of encouragement.

"Keep your heels down and your posture straight," he instructed. "You're doing great sweetheart."

As they circled the corral, Y/N's confidence began to grow. With each passing moment, she felt more at one with Sugarfoot, the rhythmic movement of the horse beneath her soothing her nerves.

After what felt like hours but was only minutes, Cooper called a halt, a proud smile spreading across his face as he looked at Y/N.

"You did it," he exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration. "You're a natural. How about going around by yourself?”

“Yeah. Id like to do that,” Y/N nodded and he stood back to lean against the fencing. She made the same clicking noise that Cooper made earlier and a slight kick of her heel, Sugarfoot began to move. Y/N's grinned beamed as she moved around the corral.

“If you do that again she'll trot around!”

Cooper shouted as Y/N got halfway around. She did it again and was going a little faster. She grinned at Cooper as she passed him. He grinned back as shouted at her.

“There you go sweetheart! Doing some damn good ridin’!”

She laughed as she pulled on the reins to slow Sugarfoot down and came to a stop as Cooper walked up to her.

“I did it!”

He chuckled as he helped her dismount. She threw her arms around him as he picked her up and twirled her around. As he sat her back down, their faces got close as the excitement shot through them. He brought his hands up to cup her cheeks and swiped a thumb across a cheek.

“Sweetheart-” He started but was caught off as Y/N pushed herself up and kissed him. He groaned into her mouth as he ran his hands down her body to grab her hips, pressing her into him. She gasped as she broke the kiss.

“Are you hard?”

He chuckled as he kissed her neck, “can you blame me sweetheart? Seeing you ride my horse makes me want you to ride something else.”

Her eyelids fluttered close with a moan as he nibbled her ear. She let her hand brush against his erection straining his jeans and it made him moan. He pulled away and looked over to the stables before taking her hand and tugging her behind him. It made her giggle with how fast he was walking and and quickly turned into a gasp as he crowded her against the open door in the stable.

He slammed his lips into her and ground his hips into hers. She shuddered as he licked against her bottom lip and opened her mouth to him. He pulled the bottom of her shirt up and unbuttoned her pants. He slid his hand down into her underwear and brushed his fingers against her pussy. It made her throw her head back with a cry as he laughed at her.

“Look at you, pretty girl. Gonna let me finger your wet pussy huh?”

Her head did a lazy nod as his fingers brushed against her hole before pushing into her. She grabbed onto his shoulders and brought her head forward to cry into it. The intrusion felt so good and she couldn't help but move her hips against his hand.

He clicked his tongue and it made her look up into his dark eyes. His eyes were half lidded with a smirk on his lips. She pulled his shirt to bring him down to kiss her. She could feel the heat in her belly burn and the coil start to tighten. She pulled away to kiss his neck as she whined.

“Cooper, I'm close.”

She whined in disappointment as he ripped his hand away. But quickly shut up as he unbundled his belt and started to take off his jeans.

“If you're gonna come sweetheart. It's going to be on my cock.”

He walked backward onto a bale of hay and pushed her jeans down until she kicked off her shoes. She finished undressing from the waist down and stood straight up to stare at Cooper. He had his cock out and was stroking himself as he watched her undress.

He smirked, “now how about you come up here and ride me.”

She quickly climbed on top of him and hovered above him before he lined himself to her and pushed inside. She scrambled to hold onto him as he held her waist and continued to move until she sat flush against him. She moaned out as she circled her hips against him. She let out a strangled yell as a hand slapped her ass. She looked down at Cooper as he smirked up at her and slapped her ass again.

“Let's get riding girl.”

She nodded before moving up and dropping back down. They both let out a moan at the feeling. Y/N placed her hands on his shoulders and held on to him as she started to him faster. The sounds of their pants and groans filled the stable.

Cooper threw his head back and watched her through half lidded eyes as she moved on top of him. His hands gripped her hips so hard she was sure there were going to be bruises and she couldn't wait to see them tomorrow. She shifted her hips to hit her sweet spot just perfectly. It made her jaw drop open and roll her eyes back. Cooper wrapped an arm around her waist, placing his feet on the bale to start fucking up into her.

She fell forward and cried into his shoulder again as he hit that spot over and over again. Her toes started to curl and couldn't stop the cries flying from her mouth.

“That's it sweet girl. You're doing so good for me. I want you to come on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” She cried out as she felt the coil inside of her begin to pull tighter and tighter again.

This time however, Cooper placed his thumb on her clit and rubbed fast and hard as she felt the coil snap. She screamed out his name as she gushed all over him. He groaned as he felt her tighten around him and he came with her name falling from his lips as she collapsed against him, letting him just use her body as he finished inside her.

He huffed as Y/N rose up and down from his heavy breaths and grabbed the back of her head. She sighed as their lips connected with slow, long kisses. He pulled away to smile at her.

As she went to speak up a loud huff came from behind them and she glanced back to see Sugarfoot standing near the doorway. Cooper laughed as Y/N huffed.

“Alright I'm embarrassed if a horse watched us.” She pulled up and off of him as he hissed from the cold air before laughing.

“Really sweetheart?” He laughed as Y/N made a face from the mess dripping out of her. “Embarrassed by a horse?”

“I don't like animals watching me. It's awkward.”

Cooper shook his head and pulled her into a kiss. She smiled into it and felt his lips quirk up to do the same. They pulled away and she knelt down to pull her panties and pants back on.

“What are you doing tonight?”

She stood and watched as Cooper stood, putting himself away and fixing his hat that got knocked up.

“Nothing, why?”

He smiled and scratched the back of his head.

“Want to go to dinner? I should have wined and dined you before all this but you know.”

He glanced down and smirked as he caught her eye again. “I couldn't resist.”

She smiled and leaned up to kiss him, “I would love to have dinner with you, Cooper.”

Taglist: @danveration

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout #first anon request #im so excited #i hope you love it ❤️#anon ask

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fairyhaos · 1 year ago

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[16:33 PM] — woozi .

454 words, idol setting, est. rs, woozi appreciation™

It's a quiet day.

With nothing better to do, you're lying on the couch in your boyfriend's studio, head on the armrest, watching him upside down as he hums and works on his latest composition.

Jihoon's face is illuminated by the light of the screen, flashes of colours making his cheeks and eyes glow pink or blue or red depending on the things he clicks. You're not really sure how it works. Jihoon, and his ability to compose, basically makes him a god in your eyes.

From your position on the couch, you can't really see him that well, but whenever he makes small noises of contentment you feel your own lips tug upwards, face warming.

"Jihoon?"

"Hm?"

"You're so pretty," you say, averting your eyes away from him, shy, even though he can't see you. "Like, really pretty."

Jihoon chuckles. "Thank you."

"You're the prettiest person in the world," you carry on, insistent on getting Jihoon to realise how beautiful he is. "Your smile is pretty. Your eyes are pretty. When you do that thing where you laugh really hard and your mouth goes wide and your eyebrows go up and your eyes scrunch up, it's so pretty. You're pretty all over, you know?"

Jihoon doesn't say anything, but you're barrelling on anyways, hands gesturing as you ramble.

"And your voice is simply the prettiest," you say dazedly, smiling. "When you're speaking, when you're singing, whenever. It's just… your voice is like a pink river, gurgling and bubbling and sparkling with life and magic. It's so beautiful."

You sigh, clasping your hands together, crossing your ankles over the other armrest of the couch, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "You're pretty everywhere, Jihoon, and sometimes I don't think you realise it. But you are, and I love you so much, for everything you do and all that you are."

Silence rings through the studio. There's no more clacking of keyboards. Jihoon doesn't even seem to breathe.

"Jihoon?" You look up, but the angle is still awkward and you still can't see him properly. "Jagiya? Wait, are you crying?" You sit up properly, and Jihoon has his face buried into his arm over his keyboard.

"God, Y/N," he sighs, sounding exasperated, but when he looks up at you, his eyes are bright. Even in the weird lighting of the studio, you can tell his ears are red.

"What? What did I do?"

Jihoon stands up, walking over to the couch, and he leans over you, cradling your face in his hands. He's smiling, that slight smile that makes him look so, so beautiful. "Love me too goddamn much, that's what."

And then he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms

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lethalchiralium · 1 year ago

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Raindrops | Simon “Ghost” Riley

a/n: 🫶

summary: It’s the first night home with his little one, and he’s trying to remember every moment.

| >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s raining outside and for once in his life, Simon Riley is grateful for it.

It rained almost every day he was tortured by Roba, it rained the day he dug himself out of the grave. It rained when his family was killed; it rained when he buried them - and himself. And it rained the day he lost Grace.

He stood in his bedroom of his stuffy studio apartment in Manchester, curtains opened to watch the cold rain patter against the old glass. It created a soft melody, calming and soothing - because in his large arms sat Winter Grace Riley.

She was a little bigger now, a lot less red than when she was born. Almost a month and a half of hospital visits had gone by since she had came into this world, now his baby got to sleep in his cozy arms instead of an incubator. The mask was discarded at the door, his shirt somewhere in the room because all of the nurse spoke about how skin to skin helped premature babies keep warm and helped him bond with her. So now, in her elephant onesie, she slept soundly to the melody of the rain instead of the steady thrum of machines.

The only light in the room was a far off street light, his studio kept dark for a multitude of reasons. He had tried to clean before she came home with him, but it slipped his mind. The second she passed with flying colors, all he thought about was getting her home in the pretty pink bassinet he had bought, dressing her in all of the animal onesies he thought were nice, and the best of all, Winter sleeping in his arms. She was a little thing, could barely fit in newborn clothes as a seven week old premie, but Winter was his. She was finally home in his shitty apartment, and that made his world turn upside down.

It was scary for Simon. He found it terrifying that such a little thing could sway his view on the world, but he would never change having that little girl.

He pressed a kiss to her head, the baby softly hummed in her slumber. Both arms holding her and he never took his eyes off of her, even as the thunder barreled through Manchester. He memorized her eyelashes, her nose, her mouth, her ears… everything. Because if he were to lose her, he would be destroyed.

It was bedtime for them now. He was meant to put her down in her bassinet, the one with the pink polka dots and pastel stars, but he couldn’t. The rain that finally soothed her came down harder, shouting at him to let her rest, let her be, take her out of his arms so she could sleep.

All he could do was memorize his daughter’s face because he knew that one day… one day she wouldn’t be this little anymore.

#lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #dad!simon ghost riley #dad!ghost #happiness series #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon riley mw2 #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley cod #simon riley headcanons

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jeridandridge · 1 year ago

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Hello!

If your requests are still open I would like to request a Mel x reader when they went to college together but after Mel came back to Philly and the reader to California. They never lost touch but now the reader is coming to work in Philly and Mel revisits old feelings. Can you make it with a happy ending? Thank you!

This is long, I hope you dig it as much as I had fun writing it. 🩷

All I Wanted

youtube

It started decades ago in a dorm room. You and Melissa were inseparable and were part of a friend group dubbed the ‘brat pack.’ All these years later you still had those same feelings for the red head.

“I dunno, Red. He was kinda boring.” You hum from your spot on the floor. You went on a date earlier in the night, and of course it didn’t go well. A date can’t go well when you’re in love with someone else.

“Maybe the next one will be it.” She gives you a half hearted smile. She felt relief hearing it hadn’t gone well, a burning feeling in her stomach arose whenever you had a date. She knows she’s selfish. She’s with Joe after all. She shouldn’t have these feelings.

“What about you?” You question looking up from the magazine you were thoughtlessly flipping through. “Is Joe the one?”

Melissa bites her lip not meeting your eyes right away. She wanted to wait until after graduation. She wanted just a little bit more time with you.

“He asked me to marry him.”

You’re certain the pain in your chest is your heart breaking. Never the less, you school your features and plaster the best fake smile on your face.

“I’m happy for you, Mel.”

Today you walk around your studio in California instructing movers where to put things as you hold your phone to your ear.

“Hey, Red. Miss me?” You grin into the phone when Melissa answers.

“Where the hell you been? I’ve called and texted you a thousand times. You’re lucky I didn’t get on a plane and come out there.” Melissa smiles into the phone.

She loved the almost daily phone calls you two shared, never missing a day no matter what time zone you were in or what was going on in your lives.

“That’s why I’m calling you.” You laugh. “I’m moving back to Philly.”

Melissa lights up nearly dropping the bottle of wine she’s holding. “You better not be playing with me, y/n.” She scolds and she leans against the kitchen counter.

“I’m serious. I’m the new director of the Philadelphia museum of art. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while, Red.”

Melissa’s eyes are watering at the knowledge of you coming back. She’d missed you the last four years that you were in California and now, she feels like she’s getting a second chance with you.

A week later you’re grinning like an idiot when you see Melissa pull up to the curb to pick you up. She immediately gets out of the truck running over and barreling into you.

Your entire body relaxes when your arms wrap around her and the scent of her perfume hits your nose.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She squeezes you.

“You can’t get rid of me for too long, Mel.” You beam rubbing her back before you pull away.

With your bags loaded up you can’t take your eyes off of her as you two talk, catching up about the last few days.

“You got a place already or what? You’re coming back to my house anyway.” She smiles not leaving you room to argue.

“I have an apartment downtown. Right down the street from the Eagles Stadium.” You grin.

When you get to Melissa’s you look at the house realizing joe lived here before their divorce. You never came back to Philly after they were married. Your friendship with Melissa had been full of phone calls and post cards sent from wherever you were working at the time, and her coming to visit you.

“Dang, Schmmenti. This is nice.” You smile as you wheel your bags in.

“Not bad for a teachers salary, eh?” She teases.

“Hey, you know I was about two seconds away from being a teacher too.” You remind her.

Melissa can’t help but shake her head with a smile. After all this time you were standing in her house, your bags by the door.

“Cmon, make yourself at home, I have a fresh bottle of wine for us.”

Kicking off your shoes and hanging your jacket up you follow her into the kitchen, smiling sadly when you see a photo of you two from graduation day on her wall. The smile hadn’t really reached your eyes even though Melissa was clinging to you. You knew by then that she was marrying joe and you would be going to Portland for a job.

“Hey, we have to drink before we go down memory lane.” She smiles handing you a glass.

You laugh happily taking it.

“I was admiring the layout. This place is very you.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a while to make it my own.” She nods before she takes your hand to drag you to the couch. When you two plop down you two are so close you rest your hand on her thigh as you sip your wine.

“I’m so glad you’re back. I couldn’t take another trip around all those hippies.”

You laugh gently squeezing her thigh. “Everyone in Californias a hippie?”

“The ones you worked around? Duh.”

You’ve missed this so much. Over the phone it’s just not the same. You were ready to settle into life in Philly again.

Almost a week later you’ve gotten into the swing of things again, happy to be in familiar territory. You fall into work easily making friends with your new colleagues and finding the work fascinating. On top of all of this, you go to Melissa’s almost every night for dinner and tonight would be no different except you’re meeting Melissa’s friend Barb.

When you get to Melissa’s you walk upto the door stopping in your tracks when you hear the two women through the screen door.

“Melissa it’s been long enough, don’t you think you deserve a chance at being happy? I haven’t even met the woman and I know she loves you more than joe ever did.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before you knock on the screen door and go in. When you do Melissa shoots up from the couch with a smile. “Hi, hon.”

“Hey, Red.” You beam holding up a bottle of wine. “I brought the good stuff.” You joke, “You must be Barbara, it’s so great to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, y/n. I feel like I know you already from what Melissa’s told me about you.”

“Oh no,” you laugh. “I hope she hasn’t talked your ear off. I’m pretty boring.”

Melissa scoffs as she takes the wine from you. “You’re not boring. Come sit down, I’ll get the food out.”

“Let me help you,” you follow her resting your hand on the small of her back.

Dinner goes just as amazing as you thought it would, although thanks to some of Barbara’s comments you have questions.

“I swear I’ve gained five pounds this week just from all the home cooked meals.” You laugh before taking another bite of Melissa’s freshly made garlic bread.

“You need it, all that kale and green juice crap out there.” She rolls her eyes. You can’t help but laugh and smile at her adoringly.

When the night wraps up, you start on the dishes and miss the look Barb gives her friend before she leaves.

“You’re Barb approved.” Melissa grins coming up beside you.

“I’m glad. I’ve been wanting to meet her for years.” You beam. “I was happy knowing you had someone here for you while I couldn’t be.” You try to make it sound as casual as possible, but the guilt you’ve felt all these years is bubbling to the surface. You want her to admit to what you heard.

“But you were there for me, hon. I had the phone bills to prove it.” She smiles reaching over to take the plate from your hands.

“I was cleaning that.” You chuckle.

“Leave it, c’mere. I wanna talk to you.”

She’s turned around and over by the couch before you can say anything. As you dry your hands you take a deep breath. Everything would be fine you told yourself.

Sitting down you curl your legs under you and eye your friend. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, ya know?” She hums playing with one of the gold rings on her finger.

“Uh oh.” You tease wanting her to relax a bit.

“Shut up.” She laughs. You reach over entangling your fingers together when she meets your eyes. God she was beautiful.

“Do you remember when I was angry at you for not coming to my wedding?”

The question hits you like a brick. Your mind snaps back to that time over twenty years ago. Instead of going back to the Philadelphia area you hopped on a plane to London, drinking and fucking your feelings for the red head away.

“I do.” It comes out hoarse and almost scared.

You’d never seen Melissa so nervous before in your entire friendship.

“I wanted you there to talk me outta doing it.” She admits with a soft look.

“Does this admission have to do with what Barbara said before I came in?”

“You heard that?” She nods like she knew. You smile squeezing her hand.

“I’d like to make you happy, Mel. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since we were in that shoe box of a room. I couldn’t watch you marry Joe. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t have been able to interrupt it either. If I walked in there I would’ve been brought out in handcuffs.”

Melissa’s eyes are glossed over, a tear slides down her cheek.

“All I wanted was you.”

You can’t take the sight of her crying. Scooting closer you practically pull her onto your lap and brush the tear away with your thumb.

“You’ve always had me, Red. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Melissa doesn’t waste any more time. Cupping your cheeks she leans in meeting your lips in a kiss she’s wanted to share for a long time.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #Lisa Ann Walter #lgbt fiction #wlw #college years

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dark-is-d3ad · 1 year ago

Text

OK, I'm moving soon, and I'm currently sitting in the middle of my ravaged flat surrounded by boxes, jars, and all sorts of things you never know you even had before it's time to go pack them up.

So here's a bunch of soapghost headcanons about moving in together.

• They end up helping each other to pack things. The flat they chose is a two-bed in Epping, really close to the forest. Easy to get to when they come back for a break, technically still in London, but in a quieter area on the outskirts of the city. Ghost checked for a multitude of things, including ways to get in and to retreat, hidden cameras, and he's making a custom surveillance system for it. You can never be too safe, right?

• The second bedroom is going to become Johnny's art studio. Ghost has dibs on the living room, he's got a huge TV and a PS5. And his humongous bookshelf will also go in there. They plan it out perfectly, so that they can spend time together, but also can have their alone time without bothering each other.

• Ghost refuses help at first, but then Johny just shows up with his portable speaker, and hangs out with him. It's a little distracting, and he has way too many books, they run out of boxes. Ghost never tells him, but he's grateful, it was getting overwhelming.

• Ghost's place looks neat, if not a little barren, his things are all sorted to perfection. He's got a collection of shotguns, too. And a huge table, perfect size to work on them comfortably. Cleaning and servicing guns never fails to calm him down. His favourite is an older one, a Benelli M2. It's in pristine condition albeit a little worn, its barrel needs to be changed because it can only last through so much shots, but Ghost kinda wants to keep it as it is, even though it's not practical. He's sentimental about it. They spend a lot of time packing them all up carefully.

• Johny actually asks him to come over, because his adhd gets unmanageable when he goes through all his things, and it's easier if a very specific person makes him stay on track, otherwise he'd be still stuck there reading his diaries and going through his pile of sketchbooks, and oh, the drawing supplies, he has the urge to use that beautiful box of designer gouache his sister gifted to him literally right now because he forgot about it, and now it's so tempting. Ghost thinks of it as of a mission, so he comes up with a strategy and keeps it tactical. And he makes Soap take breaks every once in a while.

• Soap's stuff doesn't fit into the van. Even with the furniture dismantled and packed, he's got so much things, a lot of them art supplies, a huge easel, half-finished paintings, canvases he forgot about or he hadn't had time to come back to. And his bed is freaking huge. They finally cram it in, but it's a really tight squeeze. Comparing to this, Ghost's was half-empty. Thank god their new place is on the bigger side.

• Ghost gets distracted, too, when they pack the paintings. He's not an artsy kinda guy, yet they are so good, he's entranced. It's Johnny's turn to make him focus. Soap doesn't think much of his art, and Ghost makes a mental note to compliment it more often. He really wants to see more. Hell, he'd even pose, if Soap ever asks for it. He won't tell him though.

• There's a "do not touch" black sketchbook with a little white scull drawn on the cover, and Soap flushes deep red and packs it away in record times. Ghost is intrigued beyond measure. He has assumptions of what's in there, and he sneakily checks it out when Soap goes to pack his clothes. It's full of sketches of him. Soap actually took his time to study him, he thinks, even the tattoos are all looking exactly right. The ones from the shower make him wonder if Soap actually memorised him that well or he got some sneaky reference pics (how did he manage that, the bastard). It's got notes, too. It takes an effort not to read them, but Ghost feels like he already intruded a bit too much, so he puts the sketchbook back where it was. Just in time, because Soap pops out with an absolutely ridiculous coat in his hands, and goes "hey, look what I used to wear when I was 18!"

• Ghost has a freaking lot of random jars. They're all empty. When asked about it, he confesses that he wanted to make jam, his grandfather used to make a lot of it every summer. It's one of the good memories he has, and there's not so many of them. He tried to make it once, but failed, and had to throw away the whole batch. They keep each and every one, although it seems stupid.

• Johnny's art stuff is a whole lot. He's got tree branches and clay, and a fucking mannequin (it scares Ghost every time he walks in Soap's living room, because his side vision registers it as a person, and he can't get over it). The mannequin has a crooked smiley face drawn on it with a sharpie. There's sheets of metal, fabric, a lot of acrylic, and a ton of instruments. He was trying to get into modern sculpture, Soap says, it didn't really work out. Needs more 3d thinking. Ghosts proposes to try again after they move. He's good at fixing stuff, and he's really good at guerilla warfare, they'll find a way to make even the weirdest thing Soap comes up with hold together.

• Soap's got little led garlands wrapped on every vertical thing at his place. At first Ghost thinks it's stupid, but when the night comes, and Soap lights all of them up, it actually feels almost magical. They sit on the floor with mugs of tea and coffee, and, although it's messy and everything is moved out of place, it's still beatiful, and it feels so safe. Ghost finds himself feeling more like a 5 y o than he probably ever did, sitting there just watching lights slowly light up and fade. He's never been good at making his places cozy. He'll ask Soap to work on their new flat to make it more like that. He really wants the lights there, too.

• Johnny's mugs are all different. He's got the "guns and coffee" with a redrawn Starbucks logo, the mermaid holds two pistols. Ghost gets the "under all your tattoos you're still a mainstream cunt" one when it's Johnny's turn to make tea. He pretends to be offended. There is a pink one with "unt" on it. It makes sense when Soap turns it, and the handle finishes the word. There's one with lots of bees, and it reads "bear daddy". Ghost makes the stupidest jokes about it.

• Ghost hasn't got a lot of kitchenware, and all his plates and mugs are white, the cheapest ones from IKEA. And he's only got one chair. No guests - no need. Johnny finds it a little depressing, but says nothing.

• Johnny's spicerack is probably the second biggest collection he has after his art stuff. He likes cooking, and he likes trying new recipes. His favourite go-tos sit separately on the kitchen counter. Ghost has to admit that he's really good. Ghost's spices are just salt and pepper, which gets him "and you live like that? Lt!" from Soap.

• When they finally move their stuff in, a call from Price comes. There's things to do like right now, get ready in 5, be at base in an hour and a half. Ghost likes his work, yet he can't help but get a little grumpy. He really wanted to get it over with. And to see what comes out of it with all things in place. And to have a chill evening with Johnny, watching these little lights again with some quiet ambient playing on the background. "It's OK," Soap says, "we'll get it sorted when we come back."

OK, that's gonna be it for now, I have a sad option and a silly option to go for, but I'd rather make a part two and separate them.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #headcanon #moving

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pocketfullofpearlies · 2 months ago

Text

RISE OF RED: A TALE OF HEADS AND HEARTS

(Descendants: Rise of Red Fanfiction/Re-imagining)

Chapter 4

“Where is that insolent girl?” the Queen of Hearts roared.

Tarrant stood quietly with Maddox, who still had evidence of his brief makeout session with Red on his neck.

“You’ve got a little something there, son,” Tarrant whispered.

“And do you have a problem with that, Dad? I’ve seen worse on you.”

“Touché.”

“You!” the Queen snapped, pointing at one of the guards standing outside with them. “Go get Princess Red down here now!”

“That won’t be necessary,” came Red’s voice as she stood in the doorway.

The Queen squinted in anger.

“What are you wearing? And what the hell did you do to your hair?”

Red smiled, running a hand through her locks.

“You like?”

“You look stupid.”

Red rolled her eyes as her mother turned round and began walking to the car.

She caught sight of Maddox who was scanning her from head to toe, surprised but ultimately attracted to her new look.

Red had cut up two different jackets and stitched them together to form a new one, which she wore on top of a black top with a red heart in the middle and black leather pants with red sides that hugged her legs perfectly and she had cut bangs and layers into her hair, and added some black to it.

Her makeup was dark and smudgy, matching her outfit and giving her an elevated, sultry look that was different from her usual style.

“Wow, Princess,” Maddox said, coming over to meet her. “You look enchanting.”

Red smiled. “Why, thank you. I really hope all this hides the fact that I’m more scared than a cake troll on his unbirthday.”

“There’s nothing to hide Princess; you’ll do great.”

He bowed before her slightly, taking her hand and planting a kiss on it, making Red’s head swim with sensations.

“I got you something,” Maddox whispered as he stood straight, Red’s flustered expression making him smirk.

He pressed something rectangular into the hand he held and Red looked down, only to see a phone.

“I know Her Majesty never let you have one, but I figured since you’re headed somewhere new without your special mirror, you could use this. I’ve already saved my number and installed a bunch of hacks and stuff; it’s good to go.”

“Maddox, I-“

“RED! IF YOU’RE NOT IN THIS CAR RIGHT NOW, SO HELP ME!”

“Go on, Princess. We’ll talk later.”

He winked at her and walked back to his dad, as Red stuffed the phone in the bag slung on her shoulder, sprinting down the stairs and into the car where her mother was sitting down cross-legged on one of the elaborately upholstered couches, absent-mindedly shuffling a deck of playing cards.

In true Wonderlandian style, the car looked normal on the outside, but was the size of a studio apartment on the inside.

Red sat opposite her mother and the driver started moving.

“Um, mum, do we even know the way to Auradon Prep?”

The Queen gave her a snide glance. “Your enchanted invitation card serves as a GPS for the driver and grants us entrance into the school. Do try and keep up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She turned to face the window and Red did the same, watching the huge Wonderland castle disappear as the car picked up speed.

They were approaching what seemed to be a dense forest and Red frowned in suspicion.

Her suspicion turned into fear when she saw a hole open up directly in front of the huge tree they were barreling towards.

“Mum! What’s that?” she cried in alarm.

This time the Queen groaned and glared at her daughter in frustration.

“Are you really this stupid, Redwina? You’re the Princess of Wonderland and you don’t know a rabbit hole looks like?”

Red’s face rivaled her name in colour as she shrunk into herself with embarrassment.

Of course; a rabbit hole. They were the entrances and exits to and from Wonderland, but fear curbed her tongue from admitting to her mother that she had never actually seen one because she had never had the opportunity to leave the kingdom, as they were basically locked.

She sat back and watched as the hole grew bigger and bigger till it was able to accommodate the car.

Once it was car-sized, they went through and Red saw darkness and swirls of undecipherable colours for the few seconds it took for them to get to Auradon.

Immediately the car starting moving on the Auradonian road, Red was struck by the stark difference between the general colour scheme and athmosphere of this new kingdom and the one she had called home her whole life.

While Wonderland was all rich, vibrant tones and deep, saturated hues, Auradon was all light pastels and bright, airy flushes of colour.

Red looked in amazement at the clean stretch of road in front of them, as well as the perfect, bright green trees on either side of it, which matching bushes and pretty little flowers that didn’t seem alive in the slightest.

They drove for a while before stopping in front of a very tall set of gleaming gold gates, surrounded by guards in crisp blue and gold uniforms.

The driver rolled down his window and held out her invitation letter to one of the guards who took it, scanned it over with a device and gave a hand signal, causing the gates to roll open.

The car began moving on a cobbled path that lead to the driveway directly in front of the castle that held the school’s main building.

The place was packed with parents, students and staff, bustling about and buzzing with the excitement of resumption day.

The car came to a stop and the doors were opened by footmen who helped the Queen and Red come down.

Red gasped as she got a full look at everything.

The castle was huge and imposing, made of grey stone that was clearly weathered, a testament to the decades it had been in existence. Right in the middle of the grounds in front of the cast was a statue of King Adam, the former leader of Auradon. Around his statue was a circular bush arrangement with flowers, and there were similar arrangements on either side, forming wide walkways that lead to the open door.

Everything was decorated with blue and gold ribbons, drapes and balloons, and there was a large banner hanging over the door that read: “Welcome to Auradon Prep.”

Red turned to look at her mother who had even stormier expression on her face than before, if that was even possible.

That was when she noticed the stares and side glances being thrown their way, coupled with not so subtle whispers.

Before she could make sense of that, a girl with glasses and a clipboard approached them, visibly shaking despite the friendly smile on her face.

“U-um..welcome, Your Majesty,” she said, head down to avoid eye contact with the Queen, who ignored her like she wasn’t even there.

Red smirked at that. There were times when her mother’s nasty attitude was funny, especially when it wasn’t being directed at her.

“And w-welcome Princess Red. We’re pleased to have you.”

Her sugary sweet tone made Red cringe and roll her eyes. “Whatever, thanks.”

“I’m Dizzy, and-“

“-Sit down then?”

Dizzy adjusted her glasses with a nervous giggle, almost dropping her clipboard in the process. “Uh, no, m-my name is Dizzy, it’s short for Dizzerée, my mum’s name is Drizella and-“

“-Okay, I really don’t care.”

“Right, yes. So I’m here to assist you since this is your first time in Auradon. Welcome, again. Just follow me and I’ll get you started.”

As Dizzy finished her statement, the Queen started walking away.

“Your Majesty, if you could hold on…oh dear.”

Red laughed as Dizzy attempted to catch up with her, and followed behind them at her own pace.

She had almost caught up with them when she bumped into someone and came crashing down on the ground.

“What the-?”

“I am terribly sorry!”

Red looked up, rubbing her sore elbow as her eyes settled on the culprit, who was very, very good looking.

“Here let me help you up,” he said, his voice deep and musical.

He got up in a squat position and extended his hands to Red who squinted at him in annoyance and suspicion.

“I mean, I got you on the ground, the least I can do is get you back on your feet again.”

Red pushed herself off of the ground and onto her feet, dusting her hands off on her trousers.

He stood up as well, towering over her.

She looked at him, still suspicious. He was really tall, built like an athlete and his brown skin glowed, complimented by his bright hazel-coloured eyes that crinkled as he offered her an apologetic smile.

“I’m really sorry, Miss…”

“Red.”

“I’m sorry, Red. I hope you’re not hurt or anything.”

She folded her arms. “I’ll live.”

“My name’s Amir, by the way. I’m a student here…though I think that’s kinda obvious.”

“I also happen to be a student here…I think. I just got here.”

“Oh, that’s great. Where’d you come in from?”

“Wonderland.”

Amir gave a low whistle. “Wow. I’ve never met anyone from Wonderland before. Are they all as cool as you?”

“Well, I am their Princess, so definitely not.” Red smiled a little, finally warming up to Amir as he laughed at her joke.

“Princess Red?” Dizzy called out from ahead, waving her clipboard.

“I gotta go,” Red said with a sigh.

“I’ll see you around then, Red. It was nice bumping into you.”

Amir did a little cordial bow as Red turned to catch up with Dizzy and her mum.

“Where were you?” the Queen asked sharply.

Red opened her mouth to speak, but was dismissed by a wave of her mum’s hand.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re here now; let’s get you signed in.”

“Okay?”

She was once again surprised at her mother’s passive aggressive enthusiasm.

They got in line behind another girl and her mother who were almost done.

“Great! Chloe this is your dorm key and your student pass. You’ll be given every other thing you need during the general orientation tomorrow,” the pretty dark-skinned girl with colourful braids and makeup behind the table said, a friendly yet very bored expression on her face.

“Thank you dear,” the woman accompanying her daughter said before she turned around.

On sighting the Queen of Hearts, she gasped and grabbed her daughter’s arm.

“Mum?” Chloe asked in concern, following her mother’s line of vision which was fixed on Red and the Queen of Hearts.

“Bridget?” Queen Cinderella’s was quiet but quite audible and The Queen of Hearts paused immediately.

“Ella?”

“Oh, mon Dieu, it is you! Bridget, I-“

“-It’s The Queen of Hearts, now. You understand, right, Mrs. Charming?”

Queen Cinderella’s face fell in sadness. “Come on, Bri- Your Majesty- you don’t have to be like this.”

“Like what?” The Queen of Hearts retorted stunning Queen Cinderella into silence.

Chloe shifted to meet Red who was watching the interaction between the two queens.

“Um, hi, I’m Chloe,” she whispered.

Red eyed her, scoffed and pushed past her.

“Come on, Mum.”

She held on to mother’s arm and turned her round to face Celia, effectively ending the conversation.

The Queen snatched her arm out of Red’s, trying to hide her flusteredness with anger.

Celia coughed awkwardly and shuffled some papers, presenting them to Red.

“You can start filling these out, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

********************************************************

Queen Cinderella turned round, embarrassed. “Come on, Chloe.”

“You can head up to the Courtyard to wait for the Welcome Ceremony,” Dizzy said. “I’ll meet up with you later Chloe, okay?”

“See ya, Dizzy.”

“I need to sit down,” the Queen said, walking towards a nearby bench and balancing elegantly on it.

Chloe sat on the bench too, facing her.

“Maman, c’était quoi?(Mummy, what was that?).”

“Ça fait rien, bébé(It’s nothing, baby).”

“C’était pas rien! Qui était cette femme? Pourquoi elle t’a aggressée comme ça? Et sa fille, elle faisait la même chose?(It’s not nothing! Who was that woman? Why did she speak to you like that? And her daughter; why was she acting like that?).”

Queen Cinderella sighed, shaking her head. “C’est trop compliqué pour expliquer(It’s too complicated to explain).”

“There’s still some time; I’ll take the short version for now.”

For the first time ever, Chloe was witnessing her mother in a state of nervousness unknown to anyone she’d ever met, and it scared her.

”Well, Bridget- The Queen of Hearts- and I attended this school together, way back when all the Kingdoms were still divided and it was called Merlin Academy, a school that allowed all who came to attend it, despite still being one of the most prestigious in the world at the time. I was there with my step-sisters and she was there with her older sister, Princess Mirana. She was sweet and super nice to everyone and she became popular quickly; I was honoured to be her friend. But, not everyone liked her. And she was pranked…cruelly.

“It shattered her; she was never the same. She only attended half a semester after that before running away with her boyfriend. I tried reaching out to her, but I was also caught up with my relationship with your father. I mean, we were planning to get married after school, and as soon as we passed that milestone, we had your brother. Last I heard was that she had received the crown of Wonderland, not her sister, and that she had become an even worse dictator than their father. I didn’t even know she had a child.”

“So all that happened because of a prank?”

“It wasn’t just any old prank, my love. It was…torture.”

“Torture that turned her into a tyrant….figures.”

“I wish I’d tried harder to get to her. Maybe helped her? I don’t know.”

“Mum, it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what happened in her life or how she chose to act because of it.”

The Queen sighed again, looking down at her sparkly shoes.

“I guess you’re right. It’s probably too late to even want to do anything, anyway. Time is cruel in that manner.”

Chloe stood up, shook her curls out of her face and held her mother's hand. “Let’s get to the Courtyard. Aunt Faye might be there already, that’ll cheer you up.”

Queen Cinderella smiled at her daughter. “It will.” She stood too and smoothed out her gown. “Let’s go.”

***********************************************************************

"So you went to Auradon Prep with that lady?” Red questioned her mother, who was equal parts angry and flustered as they headed to the Courtyard.

“No, I went to Merlin Academy with her. That was what it was called before Adam came in and decided he wanted to lord it over everybody. I still don’t know how everyone just stood aside and let do all of this. Crushing all the kingdoms of the world into a singular authority, and casting out all the villains to a wretched island across the sea from his territory.”

“What of Wonderland? Why aren’t we part of the United States of Auradon? The Hatter wouldn’t teach me; he said you’d tell me everything when the time was right.”

The Queen pursed her lips and clenched the cards in her hands.

“What I will tell you now is that my father refused Adam’s silly offer outright. He wasn’t going to let some half-baked animal of a King tell him what to do. And since Adam had no proof of villainry in our lands, he couldn’t cast us all to the Isle. He just barricaded all the rabbit holes.”

"Wait...King Adam did that? I thought that was you."

"Nope, that was all him. He couldn't lock us up so he locked us in."

Red shivered, wondering how they must’ve hidden the evidence of some of the real things that went on in Wonderland, like the White Rabbit Gang and their crimes, the constant flow of drugs and hallucinogens in the markets and of course the yearly killing spree her mother embarked on which claimed not less than a hundred live each year, not to mention all the casual killings that happened every other day.

She had grown up seeing those things as normal, but knowing deep down that they weren’t right in the slightest. If King Adam had found out back then, they would have been put somewhere much much worse than an island of delinquents.

“But why’d you have it out for the lady? She seemed nice enough. Her daughter was an annoying piece of work, though.”

“Ella is one of the people I knew while I went here. They were all awful, awful nasty creatures who posed as the beloved monarchs and respectables of the world. But she didn’t pose in the same way they did. No, she took on the act of the poor little step-sister who was being treated poorly by her family, and I was there for her every step of the way. But when I needed her, where was she? Off with the prince that her damsel in distress act had won for her.”

They were in the Courtyard now, which was gradually filling up with students and their parents, people from all kingdoms and walks of life.

Red spotted the lady, Ella, and her daughter. It was almost impossible not to, with the shiny blonde hair and beautiful gown she wore, as well as the fact that everybody seemed to be going up to greet her.

The Queen of Hearts took a seat on the side opposite from them, and Red sat beside her.

They were near the front and she observed their surroundings, noting even more blue and gold decorations and a sort of stage set-up in front of them, as well tables on each side laden with fancy snacks and drinks.

“Mum, if the people here are so terrible, why’d you bring me?’

Her mother gave her a side glance and a small smile. “You’ll see in quite a bit, daughter dear.”

The uncomfortable feeling that had been festering in Red’s chest became stronger and she gulped.

Before she could say anything else, a pretty, petite woman in a dark blue gown with puffy bow-like sleeves and a sequined belt came up on the stage.

“Good afternoon everyone,” she said into the mic. “Oh, it’s such a pleasure to see you all. Do come in, grab a snack and get seated, we shall be starting this Welcome Ceremony in just a minute.”

The Queen of Hearts scoffed, her expression clouding over again as she glared at the new lady on stage.

“Who’s she?” Red had to ask.

“Fairy Godmother. Another piece of Auradonian scum.”

Red watched as the Fairy Godmother left the stage and immediately went to that Ella woman and her daughter. They hugged and laughed like family.

For a split second, Red wanted to imagine herself and her mum in their position; laughing, smiling, seemingly adored by everyone around.

But that would never be the case: even in their own kingdom people hated her mother, and her by extension.

She turned her head to get a glance of the other people filling up the seats and caught sight of Amir. He was talking to a beautiful woman with long, shiny black hair who was decked out in jewelry and wearing an opulently bedazzled blue sari and had the same perfect brown skin as him, as well a bearded man who had the same hazel eyes and dashing good looks, albeit his being more rugged. He laughed at something the man said and in the process saw Red looking at him. He smiled at her and the girl responded by internally shrieking and whipping round with speed.

Beside her, the Queen was still playing about with her cards, shuffling them between her hands and performing a few tricks.

That stirred up a memory in Red, of how her mother had taught her to flip and shuffle cards when she was younger. Cardistry was an art form well recognized throughout Wonderland and her mother had wanted her to be exceptional at it, leading to many teaching sessions that were quite fun to young Red and a somewhat compensation for all the instances that they didn’t spend time together. Unfortunately, Red picked up the skill too quickly and mastered too exceptionally that there was nothing more for the Queen to teach her, and that lead to the end of their sessions. What she would give to spend hours flipping cards with her again.

Suddenly the stage lights came on and a fog machine started blowing, immediately changing the vibe of the Courtyard.

A song started playing on the sound system as people who Red recognized as pirates came in dancing from all sides and corners.

The crowd gasped in surprise and awe as they performed their tricks and stunts, but Red and her mother were unimpressed.

This was like a typical entrance in Wonderland, nothing to get excited about.

After all the pirates had made their way to the front, Fairy Godmother got back up on the stage, taking hold of the mic again, but this time she had her magic wand, an equisitely designed instrument, with her.

“Auradon Prep, it has been my greatest pleasure serving you all these years, but times are changing and we must change with them. And so it is with immense joy that I announce and welcome your new Principal, Uma of the Isle!”

Applause and cheers began as the young woman strutted down from the entrance to the stage a smile on her face the whole time.

Red watched as she got on the stage and waved at everyone.

She was gorgeous, with deep brown skin that went with her long sister-locs that were a combination of blues, greens, silvers and black and matched her pirate style outfit; an aqua blue leather vest atop a scale designed top and leather flared pants of the same colour, with net-like tassles draped all over. Her black hat and boots had starfish accents on them and her jewelry was made of seashells with a stunning holographic colour effect.

If this was going to be her Principal, maybe life here wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Maybe this was why her mum wanted her here.

Uma looked out at the cheering crowd of students and parents and smiled.

A couple years ago, these people had all been deathly afraid of her and her crew of pirates, but now Harry was in charge of the Auradonian Sea Charter, Gil ran a gym and played for the tourney team at AU, and here she was, Principal of a school she had once vowed to tear down.

“Good afternoon, Auradon Prep! And welcome to a new era, an era of change- just like Fairy G graciously said –and acceptance. I never went to Auradon Prep, but I know the importance of looking past people’s faults and flaws. Which is why my first act as Principal was to invite a new kingdom to school here. We’re starting with one student now but in time, everyone who wants to come here will be able to.”

Red tried to stop the smile spreading on her face, but couldn’t. She was experiencing a happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time.

But that happiness was short lived.

Her mother’s card shuffling was making quite a bit of noise and Uma noticed it.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Uma called out directly to The Queen of Hearts. “Do you mind?”

Red glanced at her mother franctically, fear building within her.

The Queen had a snide smile on her face, her reddish-brown eyes lit with ill intent.

It was a look Red knew well and that tripled the anxiety she felt.

“I do mind, actually,” she said, looking Uma dead in the eye as she shuffled her cards even more, performing elaborate tricks.

“Mum, what are you doing?” Red asked in worried concern as her mother slowly rose to her feet.

“Why, I’m playing my favourite game of course…”

She threw her cards in the air in a circular motion, caught them and then threw them again, this time giving a loud cry as they took to the air.

“WAR!”

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fadingreveries · 9 months ago

Text

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch1: Once Upon a Time (Pt. 2)

Click here for the TRR retelling series masterlist for more chapters! 🏰

Story Summary: In this novel-style retelling of TRR, beloved scenes with original commentary from the Choices stories including your favourite group of royals and friends will be expanded upon. Contains extended commentary and scenes from the original story, in-depth descriptions of bonus scenes, and premium choices and outfits.

Chapter Synopsis: Love awaits in the royal court of Cordonia as Riley competes for the Crown Prince! Will she accept his proposal, or will someone else win her heart?

Word Count: 2k

Disclaimer: All rights to original commentary, scenes, and characters from The Royal Romance series reserved to Choices and Pixelberry Studios. No copyright infringement intended.

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A short time later, they all found themselves outside the restaurant address Maxwell provided. He promised Liam and Drake nothing but the best for his two best friends, so they had no choice but to trust in his plan and follow him to where the night would supposedly begin.

However, it was an odd location to have a restaurant, considering it was squished in between a car dealership and a gas station. They thought it would have at least been surrounded by other well-known, swanky restaurants.

“I know this looks like a closed auto shop, but I’m sure it’s part of the theme,” Maxwell added, as they gazed up at the building wondering why it wasn’t busy at this time of the night.

Liam had never seen a restaurant with decor for that specific theme. New York was filled with surprises. “How intriguing.”

Drake banged on the door, but no one answered. The building’s windows provided a chance for them to peek inside and see the cars, tools, and tires inside. Something wasn’t right about this so-called “restaurant” Maxwell had bragged about on their way over. Where were the people? Where was the food?

“These rust stains are so authentic,” Liam remarked, brushing his hand over one of them. The attention to detail was very admirable for the authentic auto shop environment.

Maxwell glanced down at his phone with confusion, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t get it. I searched for ‘Michelin,’ and this came up…”

Of course. Now it made sense. Drake looked at Maxwell, slowly saying, “You do know Michelin also makes tires.”

“Why would the same company that controls the most prestigious food ratings also make tires, Drake? That doesn’t even make sense,” Maxwell answered, a bewildered look on his face as he scratched his head.

Drake sighed. What did a man have to do to get some whiskey at that moment? “I’m too hungry to explain this to you, and I don’t want to eat a tire for dinner.”

Looking around in their surroundings, Drake spotted a hole-in-the-wall bar on the other end of the street. There were a few patrons heading in and out but compared to the restaurants further down the road, it didn’t seem as crowded or stuffy as he would have thought for a Friday night. Plus, it was the closest one they could find, anyway.

“That place is open and empty. Let’s go,” Drake suggested, gesturing to Liam and Maxwell to follow him down the street.

__________

In the host area of the bar and restaurant, the men all met up with Tariq. The restaurant had a rustic feel to it with exposed brick and pine panels around them on the walls. There were numerous booths with shiny red leather seats and oak tables.

Several French wine barrels served as decor on the walls. There was a particularly large sign listing the establishment’s special of the month was plastered near the main bar area where the beer taps and shelves of alcohol were set out on display.

“You know, I’m not sure this is the best restaurant in New York,” Maxwell remarked. The place wasn’t bad or anything, but he expected a place with more ear-splitting tunes and drunk partying for a bachelor party. How else were they supposed to let loose?

Taking note of the relatively smaller number of people in that building compared to others nearby, Drake simply said, “I didn’t say it was the best. I said it was open and empty.”

Liam, on the other hand, was fascinated by his surroundings and smiled to himself. While the bar had its charms that not everyone would have valued, he thought it was rather refreshing. Very different from the polished palaces and mansions he had grown used to, almost like it was a brand new place to discover. “I find it charming… Shall we—”

But whatever he was about to say was cut off by his phone ringing. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Liam peered down at his phone’s screen. At the sight of his father’s name on the caller ID, he knew it might have been an urgent matter. It didn’t feel right for him to ignore his father for his own night out. What if something had happened back home? What if he was needed?

“Go on ahead, I’ll be there in a minute,” Liam insisted to his friends, walking away briskly to take the phone call.

Meanwhile, Riley glanced at the door as a group strolled in. Tariq was dressed in a luxurious dark grey suit and tie with a lavender dress shirt that most likely cost more than Riley’s monthly earnings. Maxwell was the definition of a smooth, polished man dressed in his long-sleeved black shirt, dark brown khakis, and brown derby shoes. On the other hand, Drake gave the impression of being both down-to-earth and dignified with his light denim shirt done halfway up, a white shirt, black pants, and mahogany dress boots.

“Waitress, there you are. We need your best table!” Tariq called out, spotting Riley with an excited grin.

Drake chuckled, running a hand through his chestnut-coloured hair. It was easy now to get excited about the bachelor party when there was a very humble place serving his favourite drink of all time on their menu. “Forget the table. Just bring us whiskey, and lots of it.”

Riley headed to the main counter of the bar where she swiped a few menus from the shelves underneath. When she popped her head back up, she was met face-to-face with a stricken-looking Daniel who briskly typed away on his phone.

“Riley, please take this one. I’ve got a date tonight, and I’ll never make it out of here in time.” Daniel pleaded, glancing down at his watch as if he was tracking down the seconds to his date.

“You really want me to take the bachelor party?” Riley asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise. Then she snuck a peek back at the group of men animatedly talking to one another as if the night had only just begun for them. She grinned. “I’m on it. The tip will be insane! I’ll have those guys eating out of my hand in no time.”

Daniel let out an enthusiastic whoop, before placing his hands on Riley’s shoulders with a sigh of relief. “You’re the best!”

“Are you still talking? I’ve seated them already. Now get over there before I dock your pay!” The manager threatened, his mouth turning down in another stern frown.

Once past the front doors, Liam was outside by himself. The streets were fairly busy on the side of the road they were on with groups heading to different bars and restaurants. Many of them appeared to be intoxicated and caused ruckus by hollering out lyrics to songs he had never heard of. It made him smile, however, seeing how carefree they were and how they didn’t have to overthink their responsibilities to simply have fun for one night.

Liam answered the call on his phone, pressing his phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Son, I’m so happy to reach you. The news coming off your American tour has been quite positive,” Liam’s father, King Constantine, greeted him. “Though, I’m surprised you’re not back at the palace. Your team said your flight was leaving this morning.”

One month earlier, Liam had been sent to America to embark on a tour on behalf of Cordonia. Now that he was the new Crown Prince, his father insisted that he have a hand in international affairs by meeting with various American ambassadors and leaders to forge more alliances between America and Cordonia.

For weeks, he had sat through endless conferences, meetings, galas, and dinners all in the interest of improving Cordonia’s relations with other American dignitaries. The one positive shining light in it was he had Drake and Maxwell by his side the entire time, but he had never been able to put his responsibilities in the back of his mind until this night.

Liam pursed his lips together, attempting to word his answers properly. “I know I was supposed to be back earlier, but…we took a detour to New York.”

“A detour?” Constantine asked in surprise. Liam heard the sound of a chair’s legs screeching against the floor, a sign his father had stood up from his spot in shock.

“Nothing to be concerned about,” Liam quickly brushed off, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.

He had gotten very good over the years learning how to mask his emotions to maintain stoicism, a skill he used frequently in times of distress and danger. His father’s worrying was harmless but if he heard of any potential danger, Liam knew he would be ordered immediately to return to Cordonia.

Constantine, however, remained unconvinced at Liam’s response as he solemnly commented, “You’re the Crown Prince of Cordonia. Anything unexpected is a concern.”

“Not in this case. Trust me, I can handle myself,” Liam reassured his father. He knew his father was merely looking out for him, and he loved him very dearly. The last thing he would want was to worry him from halfway across the world.

“Of course you can. But be cautious,” Constantine advised his son. There was a brief pause on the phone, then he spoke again, “I’m proud of you. I just want you to know that.”

“Thank you, Father,” Liam beamed, a grin on his face although his father couldn’t see. He wanted nothing more than to be a son worthy of his father’s praise.

Constantine continued, “I know you won’t do anything to disappoint me or the Crown.”

Liam stiffened, almost as if the guilt ate at him for disobeying orders and going out on a whim with agreeing to this bachelor party the guys had planned. He politely answered, “Of course not, Father.”

“That’s always been your brother’s specialty, as you know,” Constantine remarked.

At the mention of his older brother, Leo, Liam was no longer in the mood to make conversation. Constantine rarely praised Leo anymore as much as he did before he abdicated, which made Liam feel conflicted. Leo was his roguish older brother who had his back at every moment when they grew up in the palace together.

He admired Leo and Constantine more than anyone could ever know. He knew the three of them had always been so close before and to see the bond weaken between Leo and his father knowing he couldn’t do anything to mend it was hard on him.

Liam thought to himself once more, before saying, “Mm. Well, I must get back. Take care.”

With that, Liam hung up the phone. For a moment, he stood underneath the pale light from the streetlamps and imagined himself as one of the young college students he saw passing by had he been in an alternate universe where he wasn’t born as a prince of Cordonia.

He pictured himself walking freely around campus to go to classes with Drake and Maxwell, not having a bodyguard on standby 24/7. Liam imagined going out to clubs with the two of them without asking for permission and being able to enjoy himself without worrying about how it affected his representation of his country. It would be much easier for him to meet more people of his age over an unsupervised drink or two compared to how many other noble ladies he’d met before at previous formal dinners.

A dull ache filled Liam’s chest, the way it always presented itself whenever he dreamed of a distant universe where his life was not his own. In previous therapy sessions, he had learned that dwelling in the possible outcomes in the past had no place in his busy life as a Cordonian royal as it only brought him stress and disappointment. With a shake of his head, he sighed and headed back inside.

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