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alltheirdamn · 6 months ago

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Crush | Jackson Joel x f!reader

Song inspo: Crush by Ethel Cain

Summary: After sharing a late-night smoke with a stranger, you let him take you home to his place... Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: pure filth, porn with not a whole lot of plot, cigarettes/smoking, alcohol, flirting, light banter, oral (m & f receiving), deepthroat, rimming, anal play, spanking, rough unprotected piv sex, filthy talk, pet names (sweetheart, good girl), language, creampie, joel is a filthy bitch per usual A/N: If Joel isn't the most Ethel Cain coded man ever written I dont know what else to tell you.

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

“Got any t’spare?”

The deep, timbre voice jolted you from your peace and quiet. Footsteps crunched on the snow toward you, a tall older man dissolving from the shadows. The gray streaks in his hair shimmered under the twinkling lights that hung over the bar's roof, and you tracked his long, languid steps as they neared your shivering body. As he got closer, you could finally make out the unkempt beard growing on his jaw and neck. It was short and manageable but still messy as if he had no care about his appearance. What struck you silent, though, were his darkened brown eyes. The creases around them softened him in places, but there was a pain that lingered behind his irises that paralyzed you.

Biting your half-smoked cigarette between your teeth, you reached between your jeans and silken underwear to retrieve the hidden carton. Cigarettes were hard to come by in Jackson, and you knew how to keep your share of them a secret. But something about this man made the idea of lying seem dangerous, so you complied.

“Here,” you muttered, inhaling another drag.

He took the cigarette carefully, his thick fingers barely brushing over yours. Despite the snowfall above you, his hands were warm against your skin. You shuddered as you pulled away to dig your lighter from your back pocket.

You held the flickering flame to the butt of his cigarette, igniting the tobacco until a plume of smoke billowed into the air.

“I ain’t seen you ‘round Jackson ‘fore,” he said, his Southern accent thick and distorted from an inhale of smoke.

You dipped your head, fitting your fingers around the cigarette as you pulled it from your lips.

“Just got here this weekend,” you huffed.

“Who y’come here with?” He asked.

“Do you tend to go nosing around someone’s business before introducing yourself?” You smirked.

“Shit,” he muttered, extending a free hand. “Joel.”

You gave him your name as you wrapped your hand around his. Joel’s fingers squeezed your hand softly before he abandoned your grip and returned to his cigarette.

“I came by myself,” you finally answered.

He nodded slowly, and you both silently inhaled another pull, the smell of smoke swirling around you. You had gotten used to the tinged smell that followed a drag, the bittersweet ambiance that tended to linger on your clothes and hair. You let your eyes wander over Joel as he squinted up into the sky, the pout of his lips wrapped around the cigarette filter.

“S’not an easy trip gettin’ here,” he commented. “You’re a lucky lil’ thing.”

His eyes fell to yours as he said the final two words and something about the drop in his voice made you squirm. The tug of his lips told you he knew it, too. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked in a lung full of smoke, the cherry burning bright as it lit up Joel’s shadowed face.

“Lucky, huh?” You quipped. “I don’t think it’s luck.”

“Whadaya think it is then?” He asked, tilting his head.

You pinched the cig between your fingers, studying the thin filter as it dwindled closer to the butt. You were already craving another; the stress of traveling had really gotten to you, but you knew you’d need to ration your contraband if you planned on staying in Jackson for a while. You’d already sacrificed one to Joel, which was stupid, but you enjoyed the company of someone who needed it as badly as you did.

“I think I fought tooth and nail to get here. I learned to survive out there alone, and I did it all without luck.”

“Y’saw some scary shit out there,” he nodded, reading between the lines. “I know it ain’t easy. Did the same thing myself ‘few months ago.”

“You’re here alone, too?” You wondered.

“Came here alone, but I got family here,” he shrugged. “My brother, Tommy, he’s the one runnin’ the town.”

Your eyes widened, taking in the area around you. All the houses, the people walking by, the little bar nestled behind you… it was all because of his brother.

“Well, when you see him next, you better tell him thank you for me. I’m really grateful to have somewhere to stay.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he grinned.

A comfortable silence settled over you, and you both alternated between puffs of smoke. Joel glanced at you ever so often, his dark eyes staring intently at your mouth each time. After a while, your cigarette burned less, and you tossed it beneath your feet to extinguish it, the heat of it melting a hole into the snow.

“Y’know what tastes good with a cigarette?” Joel asked.

“What?”

He dropped the butt of his cigarette to the ground, following your lead and squashing it into the snow.

“Whiskey,” he said matter of fact. “Got some up at my place if y’wanna come over.”

“I won’t say no to that,” you smiled. “You owe me for the cig anyway.”

Joel’s home was nestled far into the woods at the end of town, its cozy space welcoming and warm. The steps up to the front door were covered in snow, and the front porch was adorned with a wooden rocking chair and table. He opened the door and ushered you inside, the bite of the night chill finally relenting once the door shut.

“Lemme take this,” Joel offered, his hands guiding your winter jacket off and hanging it on a hook by the door.

You were left standing in just a thermal and jeans, your body shivering as the cocoon of warmth disappeared. He shrugged off his heavy jacket, placing it beside yours. His green flannel stretched against the muscles of his body, and you ogled at him. You would have never guessed that he looked like this under the cover of his jacket.

“It ain’t polite to stare,” he joked.

You blinked at him, heat crawling up your neck and coloring your face red.

“Well, you’re not hard on the eyes,” you tossed back, giving him a playful grin.

Now he was blushing, the soft pink tint blooming under the scruff on his cheeks. With a subtle tilt of his head, Joel guided you to his kitchen, and you watched as he searched for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. It was hard not to fixate on his thick fingers as they dwarfed his mug, nor was it easy to avoid watching the muscles in his neck flex as he swallowed a long sip of the liquor.

“So, do you make a habit of inviting strangers to your home?” You asked, sipping the whiskey slowly.

“Only the pretty ones with tobacco,” he smirked.

The burn of the liquor down your throat coursed down your chest, warmth spreading into your limbs. Joel’s heavy stare was enough to make warmth bloom in other areas, too, the friction in your jeans becoming a problem that needed fixing. You had spent months all alone on the road trying to make it here, never once giving in to your desperate needs. You barely had the energy to fantasize about a man touching you, and now you were feet away from an opportunity to fulfill your needs.

“Ah, so you’re only interested in what I have to offer.”

You were gunning for a reaction, hoping he’d take the bait. Joel was a stranger; maybe that sentiment was part of the attraction. No strings, no emotions…just someone to fuck and blow off some steam with.

Joel finished the rest of his drink before stalking toward you, his fingers dancing up your arm. You squirmed at his touch, stepping into his space and letting your chest brush against his. His fingers squeezed your chin, tipping your head back so that you met his eyes.

“Y’got other things to offer?” He smirked.

“Depends on what you want.”

You grinned at him playfully, grinding your hips against the erection tenting in his pants. Joel exhaled a strangled groan, his fingers tightening around your jaw before traveling down your throat. You gave him a defiant look, arching your neck to allow his large hand to cover the entirety of your neck.

“Think I wanna see ya’ on your knees, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Wanna see those pretty eyes full of tears when y’try to take my cock down this pretty lil’ throat.”

You moaned helplessly, squeezing your thighs together to try and relieve the pressure building inside your core. Joel used his hand around your neck to guide you to your knees, your eyes still obediently staring up at him.

“God damn, you’re even more beautiful like that,” Joel exhaled.

He worked at his belt, letting go of your throat so that he could use both hands to free his cock. And the moment your eyes caught sight of his thick cock, you understood why he needed both hands. You wet your lips involuntarily, the aspect of trying to fit the girth of him in your mouth igniting a newfound excitement inside you.

“Stick out your tongue,” he ordered.

You quickly obliged, your jaw dropping open. You could hardly contain the grin tugging at the corners of your open mouth, arousal buzzing through your veins. Joel shoved his pants halfway down his thighs and bent over to meet you at eye level. With a brief grin of mischief, he spit into your open mouth, humming in satisfaction as he eyed the saliva coating your tongue.

“Mhmm,” he smiled. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel pumped his cock a few times before sliding it over your tongue, the stretch of your mouth around it forcing your jaw sore. You hollowed your cheeks around him, the salty taste of his precum dripping down your throat as you took him deeper. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock as it glided further into your mouth, your eyes twinkling as you watched Joel’s head tip back in ecstasy.

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart.”

You reached a hand up to caress his balls, stroking them in tandem with each bob of your head. Joel nearly buckled over at your soft touch, his hips snapping forward until your nose collided with the wiry hair surrounding his cock. You sputtered violently around him, saliva dripping down your chin while tears sprung from your eyes.

“There we go,” he grunted. “Lookin’ so pretty chokin’ on my cock. Y’like that?”

He shoved down your throat again, suffocating you with his musky scent and salty taste. You nodded vigorously, your mouth still full of him. Snaking a hand down your pants, you tried to squeeze your fingers between the fabric of your underwear, desperately seeking relief from the ache throbbing harder inside your core.

Joel tutted at you, ripping his cock from your mouth. You wailed in protest, a string of saliva still webbing from the tip to your mouth. A strong hand gripped your hair, and you stared up at him with swollen lips and lust-blown eyes.

“Y’gonna offer me a taste of that sweet lil’ pussy now?” Joel asked, quirking a grin.

“Take what you want,” you panted, grinning at him.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. He hauled you up and walked you toward the empty dining table, slamming your chest down into it hard enough to make you gasp for air. With your nails digging into the wood, Joel worked at ripping your jeans and underwear down your legs, the half-empty carton of cigarettes falling to the ground.

“That’s a cute hidin’ spot,” Joel chuckled.

“I like to keep them safe from strangers.”

“Ain’t done a good job of that tonight.”

Joel’s hand came down with a resounding thwack against your ass, a cry erupting from your lips. The sting of his palm on your skin radiated down your legs, the slick pooling further down your thighs. Jesus Christ, if he didn’t fuck you soon, you might go crazy.

“God, damn, sweetheart,” Joel exhaled, swiping a finger over your entrance. You jerked at his touch, chasing the pleasure coursing through your body. “Just drippin’ for me, ain’t she? Y’need my cock stretchin’ this tight pussy out?”

“Fuck,” you groaned. “Please, Joel.”

“Got you beggin’ for it already,” Joel laughed. “I think I like you.”

You ached for his cock, but you felt him shift behind you and gasped as his tongue licked a thick stripe up your center. You squirmed as his beard tickled your shivering skin, and your cunt fluttered around his tongue, each flick against your aching clit sending a ripple of tremors down your limbs. The bridge of his nose brushed through the crease between your entrance and tight ring of muscles, and you instinctively flinched away.

“Y’ever had someone fuck you here?” Joel muttered.

You wagged your head in protest, and he hummed in approval before his tongue traced around the tight ring. The sensation was so foreign to you, but his mouth on you felt too good to oppose. Back and forth, his tongue lapped up your juices and returned upwards, a consistent rhythm that had you gasping for more.

“Might have to stretch out this virgin hole if y’let me,” Joel mumbled, his fingers prodding up your inner thighs.

“Maybe,” you exhaled shakily.

Joel took your lack of words as an invitation to start annihilating you with his mouth, his lips suctioning over your clit, his tongue pulsating over your sensitive bud. It didn’t take much longer until your orgasm was cresting to the surface, a wail escaping your mouth as your body seized.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Joel groaned. “Think this sweet lil’ pussy’s ready for me now?”

You were too blissed out to formulate words correctly, so you only responded with a desperate whine and a slight shimmy of your ass. Joel straightened behind you, lining up with your leaking entrance. The thick head of his cock brushed against your wet folds, pushing in slowly, and you held back a whimper as your body adjusted to the stretch of him bottoming out inside you.

“Shit,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Just suckin’ me right in, ain’t you?”

“Feels so fucking good, Joel,” you moaned.

He drew back his hips, his cock nearly slipping out of you before he drove right back in. The table beneath you creaked, and your core fluttered around the girth of his cock, splitting you open. Joel’s hands groped at the plush skin of your ass, spreading you open for his pleasure. Any other man and you’d be embarrassed by how exposed you were, but for some reason… Joel was driving you insane.

“Takin’ my cock so well, sweetheart,” Joel praised.

You keened at his words, each thrust of his cock blinding your vision. Calloused fingers dug into your hips, and the smoky fragrance of his skin evaded your senses as he dipped over your spine, drawing his mouth close to your ear.

“Wish y’could see the way your pussy wraps around my cock,” Joel teased. “Gonna wreck you ‘til you’re a fucked out mess, sweetheart.”

“Use me,” you panted.

The pent-up desperation from months spent alone was clawing out of your throat; the harder he fucked you, the more you craved it. Joel’s hand wound around your hair, tightening it around his fist until he could pull your neck back. That’s when he really started ramping up the speed. His body slammed against yours, thrust after thrust, turning you into a blubbering mess of jumbled words.

“Desperate.” Thrust. “Lil.” Thrust. “Thing.” Thrust.

“Wanna—wanna cum for you, Joel,” you gasped.

Pain radiated up your neck the tighter he gripped your hair, but you couldn’t give a damn as the orgasm surged through your core. Joel kicked your legs out wider, the angle of his cock spearing into you the deeper he pushed.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Joel urged. “Lemme feel this pussy squeeze my cock.”

Hypnotized by his words, your body reacted on cue, a white-hot explosion detonating inside your core. You screamed out his name, your cunt turning into a vice around his cock. Joel choked on his breath, his movements choppy and off-beat as he pounded through your climax. The wet sound of your cunt around his cock was loud enough to echo through the empty house, and Joel exhaled in satisfaction as he reached down to pull one of your legs onto the edge of the table.

The new position sparked another fury of warmth inside your veins, his rough hand squeezing the underside of your kneecap as he broke you open wider.

“Gonna fill this tight lil’ hole with my cum,” Joel rasped. “Y’want that, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you pleaded.

Wedging your leg higher onto the table, Joel snapped his hips in repetition, carnal groans falling off his lips each time he sunk deeper. You tossed a glance over your shoulder, seeing his face scrunched up in concentration; his eyes were so fixated on his cock slipping in and out of your drenched hole that he didn’t realize you were watching. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and you could feel the sudden surge of tension paralyzing his body. Joel ground out your name as he emptied himself into you, white-hot ropes of release painting your insides.

“Jesus,” you exhaled, watching his features soften as his eyes fluttered shut.

Joel’s eyes snapped open, connecting with yours. A grin teased one corner of his mouth, beads of sweat coating the thick mustache covering his upper lip. Gingerly lowering your leg to the floor, Joel bent over your body, brushing a hand under your chin to guide your lips to his. He coaxed your mouth open, the sweet taste of whiskey and cigarettes still dancing on his tongue. You nipped at his plush bottom lip, drawing it between your teeth until he groaned.

“Want another smoke?” You asked, pushing your nose against his.

“Just gotta do somethin’ first,” he whispered.

Joel slipped out of you, the immediate trickle of liquid gushing down your thighs at his absence. He crouched behind you, pressing gentle kisses into the supple flesh of your thighs as he traveled higher. Two thick fingers plunged inside your gaping entrance, the stretch not nearly as shocking as it was with his cock. You chewed your lip to hold back another wanton moan, his fingers curling against the spongy spot inside your core.

“I need you to relax for me, okay, sweetheart?” Joel insisted. “Y’trust me?”

“I barely even know you,” you laughed. But you obliged, regardless, nodding your head eagerly.

Joel’s fingers worked their way out of you, trailing higher up the seam of your entrance until they prodded at your virgin hole. You buck your hips at his feather-like touch, the pads of his fingers pushing against the tight muscle gently.

“Relax,” he crooned.

You inhale sharply, letting your body sag onto the table. The initial stretch of his finger was uncomfortable, your body tensing as Joel worked you open. You whimpered quietly, shifting your body slightly as he slid another finger in alongside the first, your body sucking him in knuckle-deep.

“Attagirl,” Joel murmured. “Got both your holes stretched and filled now. Feels good, don’t it?”

You gave him a pathetic nod, your body on the cusp of overstimulation. Joel gently pulled his fingers from you, and you looked back to see him draw them between his lips, sucking them clean. Those dark brown eyes flicked up to meet your watchful gaze, a dangerous smile splitting across his face.

Oh, hell.

You and Joel spent the rest of the night on his porch, watching the snow blanket the ground between dancing puffs of smoke. There was minimal chatter after he cleaned you up, your clothes pieced back together, and the cigarette carton stashed away in its usual spot under your jeans. Ever so often, you’d eye Joel between drags, watching his jaw flex as he hollowed his cheeks. Under the pale light of the moon and flickering bulb over his porch, you made out the streaks of grey in his hair, familiarizing yourself with each curl that stuck to his sweat-dampened skin.

“You’re starin’ again,” he stated, his eyes locked on the snow swirling in the air.

You blushed, ashing the butt of the cig over the porch rails. The heat of his gaze on you was impossible to ignore, so you cooled yourself and turned to him with a shy grin.

“Guess there’s just something about you,” you muttered.

Joel’s brown eyes twinkled, and he smiled right back.

“You just sayin’ that ‘cause y’got my cum leakin’ out of you, sweetheart?” He teased.

“Christ,” you exhaled, rolling your eyes. “That’s definitely not why.”

“Y’gonna tell me then?” He pressed his shoulder into yours.

You returned the playful shove, letting your arm brush against his. Flicking the end of your cigarette into the yard, you straightened your body.

“You owe me a pack of Reds,” you laughed. “Then, maybe I’ll tell you.”

“Just tell me when y’wanna come and get ‘em,” Joel smirked.

He drew you in for a soft kiss before urging you to head home, both of you reluctant to leave the porch. As you walked through the gate in his fence, you glanced back one last time to capture his attention with a small wave of your hand. Hidden in the shadows, you saw Joel’s hand lift to his mouth, blowing you a kiss that drifted past the lingering haze of smoke and falling snow.

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ameagrice · 2 months ago

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percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-six | everything in its right place

It wasn’t a real spider. Not completely. But it moved like one over your hands, and so you’d thrown it so far away with one almighty shriek that the spider jumped—a tiny automaton thing, built by Hephaestus himself.

The whole thing felt like one, big joke on you.

It begun as a silver chain previously in Eurytion’s possession. He said he didn’t need it, and had no need to go into the Labyrinth or make contact with Hephaestus. If you needed to find the god, this would lead you right to him. At first, turning it over in your hands, you felt grateful that finally somebody was helping you properly. Until you pressed down on the tiny button in the middle, and it turned into a spider.

The good news: it led you straight to him. Right to Hephaestus’s doorstep. Or, entryway, for a better word. The spider had been scuttling and crawling along the tunnels for a good distance, enough so that you were starting to get tired. Percy had been nearly bouncing in place, both with anticipation for what you might find, and eagerness to get this over with; he wanted out as much as you and Grover.

If you weren’t so good at running, you might have lost the creepy little thing. By the time it finally stopped, all eight legs perched like broken wires, you were hot on its trail and pretty breathless. Grover slowed to a pace at your side, raising his hands to run over his sweaty t-zone from the exertion that was chasing the mechanical spider. Percy slid into your back, and brushed himself off like nothing happened.

You could have described it as developing a funny feeling that something was about to happen.

You stopped only because of one thing.

The giant cave, a spectacular hole in the ground inches away from the tips of your Converse. You watched from the corner of your eye Grover settling back from the jagged edge, and became aware of Percy’s fingers winding round your backpack. Human nature or stupid curiosity, you dug for your flashlight in your pocket, and leaned forward over the abyss. Percy tugged violently on your strap.

“Hey, come on, dont.” He sighed. “If you fall down there—”

“I’m not gonna fall down there!” You protest.

“Do you see with your own eyes right now? You’re literally leaning over a cavern.”

“I’m not gonna fall. But if I did I’d just take you down with me. For company ‘n all.” You drawl, turning to face him with a sly smile. Your brows jump, and Percy huffs, giving your bag one last tug until you avail, and step back.

“How kind,” he deadpans.

“I try my hardest.” You shrug.

“I think we have bigger problems than falling right now,” croaked Grover. He raised his flashlight and flicked it on and off to highlight the problem: a series of metal bars strung up to the ceiling, half-corroded.

You bark a sudden laugh at your luck. “Hope everyone’s had their tetanus shots!”

Between the rotting bars jammed into the cave roof, the tiny spider was swinging across with its strange silky webs, and crawling with its sticky feet across the ceiling. Unless you wanted to stay stuck down here at this junction, you’d have to follow it. And heights were not your speciality.

You clap your hands together; it echoes in the vast space. “So, any first takers” Neither boy answers you. “Brilliant. So, the thing is, I’d rather die than do the monkey bars. Do you guys see my arms? They weren’t made for this shit.”

“Have a little faith,” gulped Grover. “If a mechanical spider with no physical brain can do it, we totally can!”

“I like your enthusiasm!” Percy snapped his fingers. “It’s just the kind of leadership style we need!” He leaned forward and clapped Grover on the shoulder. “Onward, my friend!”

Grover tittered on the spot, and a nervous belch boasted loudly in the air. All the while he argued back and forth with Percy over how he should go first, you decided that it was best to shove down your nerves for the sake of the ever-furthering spider, and stepped back twice. The boys hardly noticed, caught up in their silly back-and-forth debate. You made your choice, and decided to make a run and jump for it.

The second your hands touched the first metal rung, they stung from the impact. You couldn’t prevent the shriek escaping your throat, but everything after that was blocked out. The brain has a funny way of focusing when it senses danger; it blocks out everything it deems unneeded. In this case, you knew though you couldn’t hear them that the boys were probably yelling something. You focussed on the strain in your shoulders, reaching forward for the next bar with halfway decent momentum. Halfway across, your palms started to sweat, and the panic set in even further.

“Guys—” you swallowed, choking on it. “What are the chances I die on impact? Don’t answer that—I already know the answer. It was in this book I read a while ago. It was 31,000 people in 2000. That’s the last time they looked at the statistics. They’ll probably go up—”. Your hand slipped from the bar, and you wiped your palm on your pants before reaching for the next one. You take deep breaths as your body is suddenly hit with panicked sweating and heat, and you know you’re not too far from a panic attack. There’s nothing anybody can do to help you here—it’s all on you. And it’s a horrible feeling knowing that.

It’s hard to move when your fingers start to tingle and grow stiff, another oncoming sign that your body has had enough, it’s working too hard. The brain works in tandem with the limbs—the control centre tells everything else what to do. If it says calm down, it’s going to calm down everything else; even hundreds of feet above a plunging cavern.

When you touch the ground again, you feel rather shaky. But there’s no proper time for rest, or to wait for the boys. The spider is scuttling further away, and it’s literally a race against time to catch up to it. With legs like jelly, you bolt as fast as you can after the spider, the tiny clicking of its mechanical legs sounding through the narrowing tunnel. It’s dark and damp, and your flashlight is beginning to flicker as the batteries run out. You lose all sight and sound of Percy and Grover, and your chest screams with the exertion of holding yourself above ground for so long and then moving instantly into a sprint.

The spider really doesn’t care, though.

You run and run, until something crunches under your feet. You ignore it until you can’t anymore, and gradually slow down, as the crunching becomes too loud. You bend down to inspect the pieces: wood chips, like from…pencils? There’s a shard of lead from the end of one just laying around, and another a bit away from it. Who the hell needs pencils down here? Is somebody else lost, too? The pieces slip through your fingers as you get to your feet, falling back down.

You pick up your flashlight from between your neck and shoulder where you’d been holding it, and twist it in your hand. The light still flickers, except this time it has enough of a glow to show you just who left the pencil scrapings.

Skeletons. Dead, very dead skeletons.

And they look a little different to the ones in gothic movies.

Some are white, like they’ve been bleached, but mainly they’re a weird yellow-brown and mottled, rotting away. They don’t smell, weirdly. They could almost be props. You’re not naive enough to believe that though.

A set of footsteps is growing louder nearing your position. It’s Percy, calling your name. And when he falls to step next to you, a hand on your shoulder, you can’t help but nodding grimly to the skeletons he hasn’t seen yet. You flash your light on them, and he gags.

“Let’s keep going,” you say, and nod to the literal light at the end of the tunnel. You can already see it opens into a big room. “I don’t wanna meet the thing that left those.”

You wait for Grover to catch up before you move on towards the bright light at the end of the tunnel. It feels weirdly intimate, all quiet and settled as you near it.

But��yeah, you take that back. Because you meet the thing that left those skeletons pretty quickly. Just when you thought things couldn’t get weirder down here.

You stop short, and can’t help your jaw dropping in disgust at the creature perched on the glittering dais on the far side of the room. With the body of a lion and the head of a woman, you quite honestly feel like vomming. She wore makeup like a clown, and her stringy hair was tied back way too tightly—how the hell did she even do her hair, with paws?

Grover gagged. It echoed. “Sphinx.”

You scrunch your nose in response. “Ooooh, are we talkin’ that weird thing that does riddles?”

“Funny way of putting it, but yes.”

You want to reply to Grover, but you’ve lost sight of the spider, your only way forward. You can hear it in the quiet, tapping away down the only exit: right next to the Sphinx.

You try your luck; you suck in a deep breath and make a run for it, but the creature is quicker than you are, and it dives down to block your path, roaring in your face with such ferocity that you’re left only with shock. Your face stings with the heat. You gag, and step back. Metal bars slammed down across the exit, and the way you’d come in, blocking your way out indefinitely. Looking longingly through the bars, you lost sight and sound of the spider, heart sinking.

When the bars were settled, the creature smiled. Somewhat horrifying, the voice to leave its mouth was on par. “Welcome, lucky contestants! Are you ready to play…GUESS THE RIDDLE?!”

Spotlights cranked into place and blinded Grover, who slapped a hand over his eyes. Canned applause blasted like there were a dozen soundbars in the room. Something popped from the ceiling, and glittering rained down, sparkling purple, pink and silver in the spotlight.

The Sphinx prowled the room and flicked back her head like you would tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Pass the test, demigods, and you get to advance! Fail, and I eat you for dinner! So! Who will be our contestant tonight?”

“Grover,” you point instantly, and then feel terrible because he looked rather sick. Coincidentally, both boys looked at you. “What, you think I’m smart enough for this shit?” You hiss.

“Absolutely!” Percy encouraged. “And we’ll be right here to fight for you!”

“Totally!” Nodded Grover. He reached into his pocket and produced a stick, and began munching on it instantly. A nervous habit, you’ve come to realise.

“How romantic,” you roll your eyes to Percy, but inside your stomach says SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! You deflated at the shoulders, and squeezed your flashlight between your fingers. Approaching the CONTESTANT podium, it wasn’t difficult to notice the dusty skeleton in a school uniform still leaning over the platform, jaw hanging open.

Holding your flashlight by the very end, you gave the skeleton a shove, and then a kick for good measure. It toppled off the side and clattered to the ground, bones rattling. You side-eyed it and quickly looked away. “So sorry, man.”

“Welcome, daughter of Athena!” The Sphinx cried in a cheesy, televised tone. “Are you ready for your questions?”

You point your flashlight at her. “Uhhhh—no.”

“I need an answer!”

“Sure, yeah. Give me the question, then.” At the side of the room, Percy sends you what is supposed to be an encouraging set of a thumbs-up, and a large smile, nodding his head.

“Riddles, actually, get it right dear. Anywho! Twenty riddles coming your way!” A drumroll sounded overhead, rattling your organs the bass was so deep. There may as well have been a band up in the ceiling. Hell, maybe there was. “What is…the Capital of Bulgaria?”

Embarrassingly, you almost fall flat. “Pffttt, I know this.”

“You know this!” Encouraged Percy from his place, except when you turned to look at him, he was leaning against the wall and sweating. Very encouraging. “You’ve got this, B!”

“Isn’t it, like Sofia, or something? And that isn’t even a riddle, that’s just basic knowledge—”

Applause screamed above. The Sphinx smiled too sweetly, and her sharp canines showed. “Correct! Now, mark down your answers in the booklet with the yellow pencil.”

You eye your empty hands. “What pencil—?” With a solid POP! the pencil, sharpened to a point, appeared on top of the little booklet like magic.

“Now,” said the Sphinx. “If you need to erase an answer, be sure to do it COMPLETELY! Or else the machine is unable to read the answers.” She smiled with closed eyes. A horrible sight, really. The nightmares will be anticipated, when you’re out of here.

Waving around your pencil, and growing slightly annoyed with the creature, you huff. “What machine?”

With a large paw, the Sphinx made a pointing movement to the giant bronze thing situation to the side. It had appeared under a spotlight, and was covered in the Greek letter Êta. If you weren’t wrong, that was Hephaestus’s mark.

Another nail in the coffin of life being a total joke.

“Now!” The Sphinx clapped her paws. “Next question!”

“Shit question,” you mumbled. You set your hands on either side of the podium and waited.

“I beg your pardon?” The Sphinx grew still instantly, clearly annoyed.

“Nothing. Continue.”

“What is the square root of sixteen?”

“Oh. I cant do math. Uhm…”

“Ten seconds on the clock!”

A loud and irritating ticking began with an audible countdown from invisible voices, making your eyes ring. Suddenly uncomfortable, you dip your head and discreetly look at Percy, whose hand moves at his side.

“Four?” You frown.

A bell rang off. “Correct! Which United States president signed the Civil Rights Act?”

“Lyndon. B. Johnson? I th—”

“Correct! Which planet spins clockwise?”

“Venus?”

“Which part of the human body is incapable of healing itself?”

“I think it’s your teeth?” You shift on your feet, feeling way too under pressure.

“Need a definite answer!” The Sphinx pointed to the ceiling with a paw, and the countdown began.

Tiredly, you drawl, “It’s your teeth.”

“Correct again! What comes into the world with more bones than the adult human?”

“A baby?”

“Correct!”

The questions go on, and on until your mind feels like a battered sieve, bent out of shape and a little corroded. You passed twenty questions, and stared at Percy, unimpressed, as a dozen layers of glitter and confetti rained down upon you. A techno electric song began blasting over the invisible speakers in celebration. Grover was taking deep breaths, mumbling under his breath, probably thanking the gods. When you found your place next to Percy, he huffed a laugh, and glitter shifted from your face as he did.

“Oh, you did great!” He offered. The metal bars ground out a horrid noise as they rose back to where they came from. “I knew you could do it.”

“You offered me up like paint at an artist’s house.”

Grover, still praying, took off with his eyes closed, doing a little jig. The Sphinx took a seat at dais, eyes closed. She looked somewhat frozen, barely breathing. When Grover passed on by, it was as if she’d never moved at all.

Clapping a hand down on your head, Percy shook the confetti and glitter like dust from your hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, though he said so with a humoured smile. “I’ll never do it again. Friends?”

“Suppose so,” you shrug, and glitter dances to the ground.

“Let’s go, disco ball. We need to find that spider.”

You skedaddled past the Sphinx whom paid you no mind, and out the tunnel way, leaving a trail of glitter. After a few wrong turns, and following Grover’s voice, and finally managed to locate your friend and the spider, which threw itself at a metal door, a little bit of light spilling out underneath it. In the middle of the door, old and creaking despite not touching it, was nailed a big sign, wilting like it had been melted, dashed with the same sign as the answering machine ten minutes ago: the Greek Êta.

“Are we ready to meet Hephaestus?” Grover asked nervously.

“I’m ready to ask why he spends his time down here,” you grumbled. “Why not somewhere nice?”

Deciding you’d done enough today, Percy reached out around you for the door handle, and gave it a good push. The door screamed, slowly opening, revealing all inside.

The room was bigger than words could describe. It was filled to the brim with machines and makings, some working, some not. There were cars, half-built just lying around, and bits of mechanical animals waiting to be put together. A fire burned in the corner of the room, not tended to though. A dozen tools hung from the walls and were splashed across work tables.

Nobody noticed him until the door slammed shut, you screamed, and he shifted out from underneath a car. A giant man in dirty work pants, and a leg in a metal brace.

“Well, what do we have here?” He boomed. Maybe it was wrong to be so terrified, but you were, and you found yourself shifting slowly, subtly, taking your place beside Percy.

Unfortunately, your slinking act didn’t last for long. When Hephaestus stood properly, he towered way over the three of you.

“I didn’t make you demigods, did I?”

Percy coughed. “No, sir.”

He was tall, and his beard was smoking. The metal spider perched on his head.

“Good. Terrible workmanship.”

“We’ve met, sir,” said Percy.

“Have we, now?” His tone indicated that he couldn’t care less. “Well, if I didn’t get rid of you the first time I won’t need to now, I suppose. And a Satyr. Wow. You’re all far from home. There better be a good reason for disturbing me.”

“We’re looking for Daedalus—”

The god’s beard flickered ten times brighter, and he seemed to get taller. “Daedalus?” He roared.

“Yes, sir, please.” Grover pleaded nervously.

“You’re wasting your time.” He stomped over to the corner of the room, and began to tinker with some pieces of metal. “I understand you met my mother.”

“Yes, sir,” Percy nodded.

“What did you think of her, daughter of Athena?” You jolt at your place, and wish the ground would open up and take you. Side-stepping, you remain half behind Percy, grimacing. “She’ll smile to your face and talk about important values, family values. Didn’t stop her pitching me off of Olympus.”

Why me? You wish you could ask. Why are you asking me?

“I thought that was Zeus?” Percy tries to deflect.

Hephaestus spun on his feet like a top, facing you. “She likes telling that version. Makes her more likeable doesn’t it? The truth is, my mother loves families, but only certain types of families. She influences, and she lobbies. She likes to get involved.”

Finally, he looked up from the metal in his large hands, and focused on Percy. “Oh, this one doesn’t like me. I’ll bite, demigod—what do you want?”

“We told you,” Percy snapped. “We need to find Daedalus. It’s important. There’s this guy, a son of Hermes, and he’s working with Kronos. They’re trying to find a way to navigate this maze to take over everywhere. If we don’t get to Daedalus first—”

“And I told you, son of Poseidon—you’re wasting your time. He won’t help you.”

Hephaestus shrugged his heavy shoulders. “Some of us are thrown off of cliffs and some of us learn not to trust people. Ask me for gold, or a new sword. I can grant you those things. But a way to Daedalus? Well, that’s an expensive favour.”

“So you know where he is?” Asked Grover. “He’s down here at least?”

“It isn’t wise to go looking.”

But isn’t looking the nature of wisdom?

Hephaestus made a deep, rumbling sigh. “If I help you, there will be a price. I need a favour, too.”

“Name it,” demanded Percy.

“You heroes! You like making your promises. How very…refreshing.” The god reached out with a giant hand to push a button in the wall, and it instantly changed. The concrete and metal combined twisted and glowed until it became a television screen, showing mountains, and a forest. Smoke bellowed from the background.

“One of my forges gone, but this used to be my favourite.”

“But that’s Mount St. Helens!” Pointed out Grover. “But you said it used to be your favourite?”

“Well, the monster, Typhon, is trapped there.”

“What do you want us to do? Fight him for you?” Ah, Percy; ever the brave.

Hephaestus snorted meanly. “Well that’s suicide. Someone or something is using my forges there. They sense me coming, and they go, when I try to search it. There is something ancient and evil waiting there, and I want to know who has invaded my territory.”

“You want us to find out who it is.”

“Correct!” Your brain aches, thinking back to the Sphinx. “Find what you can and report back to me, and then I’ll tell you everything I know. Promise.”

“Fine,” Percy nodded. “How do we get there?”

Hephaestus clapped his hands together, and the mechanical spider fell from the rafters, right at your feet. You jumped about ten feet in the air, and screamed so loud it was bolstered by the metal walls. “My creation will show the way. Try to stay alive, young ones. Humans are much more fragile than automatons.”

For a while, you followed the spider without any trouble. The paths seemed unusually normal, just straightforward tunnels of concrete, or metal park slides the whole way down. But the ground began to change to dirt, and trees sprouted in the darkness, and a singular tunnel led away from the original path—Grover was headed straight for it, as if in a trance. He slowed, and slowed and stopped, just before the entrance.

“Come on,” you groaned. “Let’s go, man, It’s not far.”

“This is the way, guys!” Grover mumbled. “This is it! I can feel it!”

“What way?” Probed Percy. “You don’t mean…you know he’s there? Pan? Really?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, suddenly reinvigorated. “This is it, guys!”

You followed after the spider, intent on not losing it, but held back when neither Grover or Percy followed.

“I have to follow this. I won’t get this chance ever again. You know that, right?”

On the one hand, you wanted to tell Grover to not be selfish. This was the original quest and it was important. But on the other, saying that would mean you were being selfish, holding Grover back from the only thing he wanted. He’d gone along with your plan for a while now, and outwardly telling him that he shouldn’t be doing the one thing he’d ever wanted would feel like stabbing him.

“Percy,” said Grover, “we will find each other again. We have the empathy link, remember? I have to do this. I have to; he’s…so close!”

Because, at the end of the day, this was all Grover had wanted for so long. Really, it felt cruel to tell him no.

Percy sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I hope you’re right.”

“I swear it, I am.”

“Just be careful, yeah? And find us, afterwards.”

Maybe it was to be your last sight of Grover. Perhaps you’d never see him again, although you really didn’t want to think so. You looked after him, as he wandered into the tunnel surrounded by darkness and tree roots winding from the ground until finally he’d gone completely.

It left a strange feeling that something was going to happen.

“We shouldn’t have split up,” you shake your head. “This is a horrible idea!”

“We’ll see him again…” Percy tried to sound confident, but even he fell a little short. He chewed his cheek, still looking at the tunnel Grover had left through. “Don’t worry. Come on, let’s catch up with that spider. It won’t wait for us.”

And it didn’t. The tiny spider scuttled through tunnels and tunnels, down slopes and up them. They grew tighter, and hotter, until your face dripped with sweat. The flashlight slipped in your hand, and you’d been forced to put away your dagger for fear of it slipping away.

More than once you had to stop in place and wipe the sweat dripping into your eyes, sticky and slippy. Your hair grew damp, uncomfortable around your face.

Percy seemed to be struggling the same way. When you turned back to him, his cheeks were bright red like cherries, highlighting the green in his eyes. Somehow, he managed a smile, nodding encouragingly. You swallowed hard, throat as dry as anything.

“Keep going!” He urged. “It’s not far, now, I know it.”

You didn’t want to tell him that he was a little too optimistic for it to be true, but who were you to burst his bubble?

It realistically didnt take a long time, but it certainly felt like it did. Eventually, the spider stopped short and curled into a ball, rolling down a little decline before it popped back open, and crawled a small distance. At last it waited for you and Percy.

The room before you now was the size of a large football stadium, times two thousand. It was so big you could scarcely see each end. The worst part, when you pushed aside the fact that you couldn’t really see properly, was the fact the floor was not floor at all but a plaza of bubbling lava, and your only way to get across should the need arise was two lengths of metal bridges, which ultimately, if the pool of lava was anything to go by, would be too hot to walk across for human beings. Here and there on little platforms were machines bigger than you, rumbling, whirring. Perhaps they weren’t the weird things though—the creatures, dark and shapeless and moving around the solid concrete platform around the lava, paid you no mind. Maybe they’d yet to see you.

“Let’s go, while they’re not looking,” hissed Percy. He snatched up your hand and pulled you along, despite how sweaty you were.

“Hold up!” You pulled back on him, but he persevered. “Percy, wait! We need a plan.”

“We don’t need a plan. We just need to get some information and get out of here.”

“Exactly why we need a plan!”

Your eyes began to burn from the heat of the lava, and your lungs ached from the smoke. It became difficult to even see, so it didn’t take long at all for something to go wrong.

“Agh!” Percy screamed, and you reached out blindly in the smoky haze to slap your hand over his mouth—you missed, and your palm found his eyes instead. “Ow!”

“Shut up, idiot!” You couldn’t help but laugh. “What did you do?”

“Kicked a cart by accident. I can’t see a damn thing with all this smoke.”

Near enough four years ago, when you met Percy, you wouldn’t have thought you’d be creeping around a pit filled with lava and carrying a deadly weapon in your backpack. At most, you’d believed you’d go through high school and eventually Percy would find other friends. You would see each other in hallways in brief glances and walk on by. Maybe in another life. In a normal life, if you’d been born to both mortal parents. You might have even had a dog in the mix. It was strange to think about, as he pulled you down behind a crate, not caring even a little bit about your sweaty palm, or the fact that you’d accidentally slapped him in the face. Life worked in funny ways. The Fates certainly chose you two for a reason, though you couldn’t be sure what that reason was, yet. Maybe, when you’d asked to be born again, the Judges in the Underworld decided you needed some more excitement in your life. Or maybe they hated you, and you’d done wrong before, whoever you were before, because to be here now you’d have to have been here once—after seeing the Underworld with your own eyes, there was no more questioning life after death. Did you reach Elysium? Were you a nice person?

Being a demigod had its pros, its cons, and its questions. It enabled deep thinking.

“Come on, just go around it,” you nodded to the sight up ahead. Percy went to climb to his feet…

That was when you heard the voices.

“Shit! Get in the cart!”

Pulling back the tarp, stinging your fingers, Percy clambered over the edge and into the pile of metal pieces, flat and smooth between the hot cart. He raised his hands, holding up the tarp as you shot a hasty look in the direction of the voices; shadows were growing bigger on the wall. You flopped into the cart in an uncomfortable position of squashed-up legs, Percy’s longer set digging into your side. You tried to move over as far as you could to make room for him but really there wasn’t much point. He flipped the tarp over your heads, and together you held your breath.

It turned red. With the tarp now covering the pair of you, light from the flowing lava pit illuminated the red tarp, casting an amber glow.

Riptide? you mouthed to Percy. Your dagger sat in your backpack, crushed under your weight and between the cart.

He raised his hand ever so slightly, and twirled the pen in response.

“Bring it in?” One voice asked. It was deep.

“Yeah, movie’s just finished.”

Lowering your gaze from the side of the cart, you meet Percy’s. Movie?

Suddenly, the cart jerked, and tipped forward. You jostled into Percy, and thrust your hands out to either side of the cart. The metal was warm. You slammed your mouth shut, hoping nobody heard the surprised squeak.

“Hey! Thought you said this was a small load? Thing weighs a ton!”

Rude.

“It’s celestial bronze, idiot,” the other voice laughed. “What did you think, it’d be light? Hurry up and set it in the back, for crying out load. Hey, younglings! Watch the damn movie. I’ll answer your questions later.”

Had you found some secret school? Were people living here? Younglings didn’t sound very human, however. Nobody in their right mind would use that language.

But a movie did play. You strained your ears, trying to make some sort of sense of where you were. Growth spurts, and hygiene working in the forges.

“And lastly, don’t neglect your flipper hygiene!” The soapy voice rang over speakers. “Good flippers equal good mind!”

Percy spun Riptide between his fingers, dashing back and forth and swapping hands. His dark brows furrowed in concentration, tired eyes pinned on nothing in particular. They seemed brighter in here, somehow. More ‘calm before the storm’ rather than their usual ‘storm’.

“So, younglings, what is the correct name of our particular species? You, at the back!”

“Sea demons!” A voice cried.

“No,” the ‘teacher’ flatlined. “You?”

“Telekhines!” Another voice grumbled.

“Brill! And why are we here, guys?”

“Revenge! Revenge against the Greek god Zeus, for casting us down to Tartarus!”

“Indeed! And only after we created their weapons, might I add!”

So, you were dealing with a bunch of salty monsters. Great.

“Zeus cast us away,” the teacher continued in a mocking, sad voice. “Down to Tartarus. We had no control in this, young ones, no choice! Which is why now is our perfect time for a takeover! We will start here, in the very forges of Hephaestus! And soon after, the undersea furnaces, too!”

There was a huge uproar of applause and yells, some barking, some screaming. Terrible noise, honestly. And that was only the very tip of the iceberg.

You’d done your research after being at camp for so long. You’d come across their names, the Telekhines, but the gross result of the previous Titan takeover remained a subject to be avoided. To you, even reading about the ugliness of that period was enough, never mind looking at pictures of the creatures produced then. Maybe Ares was right, so long ago—you valued prettiness and vanity so much that you may as well have been a daughter of Aphrodite rather than Athena. Is that why your mother wouldn’t connect with you? Did she see her sister, rather than her daughter? Brains and beauty go hand-in-hand, but the Gods have their own set of values and expectations. You didn’t live up to too many of them. Maybe you were vain—perhaps a little too much. Probably ignorant, too.

On your head it was, then, that you had clue what you were up against.

“Who do we serve, Telekhines?”

“Kronos!”

“And when you all grow to full maturity, who will you serve? Whose army will you fight for?”

“Kronos!”

“Lovely. Now, at the back we have brought some scraps for you to practice making weapons with. Go ahead and take a look—but share! We don’t need any arguments today.”

You scrambled in place. Percy’s elbow kneaded into your stomach as he tried to set up Riptide early. Reflexively, your foot shot out at the feeling, and booted his knee cap. Your hand fell to his shoulder, urgently whispering, “backpack. Open my backpack!”

Alas, you both prepared too late. The tarp was thrown away by…human hands. Except the creatures they belonged to one-hundred percent were not human beings. A dozen faces looked in, with snouts like dogs, wet and slimy, and bodies of sea lions, all black and shiny.

“Demigods!” One growled.

“Eat them!” Cried another; from the back of group, there was a sound like nashers clashing.

Fortunately for you, they had also prepared too late. Riptide appeared in full form, and in one strong swoop, Percy decapitated the whole row. They disappeared in puffs of dust, sent straight back to where they came from.

“Back off!” Percy yelled, jabbing at another one.

You swung your arm back with your torch still in hand, and swatted one on the snout. It barked, but retreated, giving you the room you needed to clamber out of the cart.

You came face-to-face with a hunched over, crouching Telekhine with the features of a Doberman, snarling. Your shoes squeaked the further you backed up, right to Percy’s back. The back of his head very briefly knocked the top of yours. He had your back, and you most definitely had his. Very slyly, his free hand rose and made contact with your side, following the strap of your backpack and skimming across it blindly. What was he doing?

“New lesson, class,” said Percy. You clutched the flashlight harder, as the six-foot Telekhine began to advance, its fangs making an appearance briefly. The zipper of your bag jingled, and—ah, Percy was trying to get your dagger. “Monsters tend to vaporise when slashed with a celestial bronze sword. Just like this—!”

The Telekhines dove, driving Percy into gear. He abandoned your backpack, taking one firm swipe to the next set of monsters. They dissolved instantly, little clouds of ash and dust sending puffs in the air. The warm handle of Riptide was pressed into your palm straight after, and you dropped your flashlight. With both hands around the hilt, you swung the sword over your shoulder and back again like you would a baseball bat. The speed at which you did so enabled you to get a surprise hit on the advancing, taller monster, and you split him down the middle. Its essence went up like a bomb. The rest of the monsters were backed up, but you didn’t have long.

You threw the sword back to Percy blindly. Turning, he reached out a hand for yours. “Let’s go!” With eyes wide in anticipation and adrenaline, still furiously red in the face, he pulled you along. In tandem, you made a dive for the exit tunnel, where a door had been placed.

Bingo. Sliding into the safe space, you threw your body back against the door and held it in place while Percy’s deft hands made quick work of the wheel handle, spinning it until it locked. Monsters thudded on the other side, the sound like thunder in this winding tunnel.

Back in the open lava room, you noticed a couple of things that weren’t there before: one, four sea demons even taller than the rest, at least nine-feet; two, the statue and work of which they hammered away at in the middle of the room by the first bridge; three, the harsh language they spoke did not register in your mind. An old language, then. Old as hell.

“What are they making?” You muttered, trying to get a good look without exposing yourself. Sparks flew from the large piece of metal between them.

Percy sighed. “Whatever it is, it isn’t good. They were banished to Tartarus by Zeus for a reason. Now, I don’t like the guy, but I’m pretty sure he’d have a good enough reason for doing something like that.”

You’d nearly forgotten about the locked door at the end of the tunnel, until the creatures came falling through. Crawling over each other, they began to run towards you.

Percy grabbed you by the shoulders, sword dangerously close to your face. He’d never let it touch you, you trusted, but even the aura of it was unsettling so close to your skin. “Start running. Get a head start.”

You shook your head and scoffed. “Ha, no. We leave together.”

“We don’t have time to leave together!” He exclaimed, “I’m gonna hold them back while you get a head start. If you get to Hephaestus first, he might help us. Tell him what we found out, and I’ll be right behind. Got it?”

You liked to think, later, that the final look in Percy’s eyes was determination. It certainly seemed that way, storming bright, his mouth set firmly. You weren’t to fight a whole army with a flashlight and a dagger stuck deep in your bag with no time to grab it.

“Just go!” He ordered. You took a single step back, unsure, until he reached out with one strong hand and gave your shoulder a confident push. “I’ll be right behind you. I promise.”

The army advanced and by this point, the taller, grown ones had taken notice of what was happening. More of those came out of the walls, too, and the dark shapes from earlier finally paid attention to the two of you.

In one movement, not thinking at all, you threw yourself forward, and threw your arms firmly around Percy’s neck. He smelled like sweat and boy and dirt from being down in the maze for so long, but you didn’t care one bit. He was warm and solid and sure and here, and his free hand touched your back, before tugging on your shirt. You moved away, to see something not unlike real desperation on his face.

“Now go,” he ordered, one last time.

And you listened.

You made a run for the way you’d came, and the sounds of the forge were drowned out the further you ran away. At first, it was fine—lights like the metal ones of an old Cold War bunker lit your path. Nausea reigned, until you and your heaving chest took a break against a wall just for a second. You hadn’t gone too far, but the Telekhines weren’t here yet. Percy said he’d be right behind. You’d wait here for him.

Or you could go back.

Kneeling, you slid your bag from your back and unzipped it. Percy had moved the zipper not even halfway in his mission to get your dagger for you. It sat between your jacket and your packets of food. You pulled out a water bottle and sipped slowly. Shrugging your bag back on your shoulders, you waited a second on weak legs, trying to regain some strength.

The tunnel remained silent if you excused your laboured breathing. The lights on the ceiling began to flicker, dimming and brightening again, probably trying to move you along and change itself. It wouldn’t have been unsettling if Grover and Percy were with you, but they weren’t, and you felt completely alone in this maze despite knowing they were still down here too. You laid your hand on your forehead and ran it through your sweaty hairline, trying to wipe the remains of your overheating from your face. As you did, and slowly got to your feet, the lights flickered even more intensely.

That was just before the ground began to shake. At first it was a tiny amount of trembling, and soundless, beneath your feet. Its intensity grew in size pretty quickly, from a little shaking to full-blown rumbling, like an explosion was popping off and heading your way. You stepped back once, trying to make sense of the direction, and only looked up the way you came just as the lights went out silently. It was like a bomb exploded, or some part of the tunnel had blown apart. A fierce gush of wind blew, so forceful you had no choice in being shoved to the wall, hot air hitting you square in the face. Bits of debris and dirt were blown in your eyes, gritting and painful. Just as it began, it ended, and the sound of the maze changing again came through loud and clear.

Which left you with two bouts of knowledge:

One: Percy had definitely just been killed.

and Two: you were totally, utterly lost, without even a flashlight.

Standing in the aftermath of hot, diffusing air from the direction of the forges, breathing in bits of explosion, there was absolutely no denying that your best friend had just been blown to smithereens. Nobody survived an explosion like that. Nobody.

Even so, your mind turned on autopilot. What happened after the explosion was numbed and distorted, like looking through murky water and only half-awake.

“No,” you mumbled, “no, no, no. Not happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.”

Horror began to sink in, and you felt suddenly extremely, permanently wounded. Percy was, without a doubt, very, very dead. You scarcely moved, scarcely breathed. Staring at a wall replacing what you thought was where you came from, but now couldn’t be completely sure, because you’d dropped your flashlight back in the blown-up cavern, and your best friend was lying in bits and pieces of body somewhere you couldn’t reach. The mind runs rampant in panic. All you could think of was blood, and bones.

You might have screamed. You thought you did. Your throat turns sore and raw, and you figure you’ve been screaming for a while in the darkness on your own.

How strange it was that Percy had been the only thing keeping you safe this whole time. Without him, you feel exposed even when nothing can see you. They can definitely sense you. You hear something coming, like a body being dragged along the ground, and decide now would be a good time to get up and go. But your hands and feet are numb and tingling, evidence of a panic attack. Your head swims without sight, and you can’t feel the wall when you touch your fingers to it.

Your feet hurt when they take step after step until you’re running, dragging your fingers blindly along the dark tunnel as some semblance of a path finder. The walls change, and twice you fall. It’s embarrassing, scraping your chin on brick, eating dirt. You stumble up stairs, walk through cobwebs and feel things crawling up your neck, and scream now and again out of sheer annoyance, sheer exhaustion. You begin to pray, muttering insanely under your breath to anyone who will listen: first your mom, and you beg her to forgive any doubts you had. Then you beg Hermes, the patron of travellers, to at least give you direction here. And finally Ares, because the only thing fuelling your body is determination to not die down here.

Someone has your back.

Just as you’re beginning to freak out again, you feel the wall begin to curve around, and dip. And…grow…lighter? And it is, growing lighter. There’s a glow coming from a door at the end of the tunnel, and you’ve seen this door before.

You’ve made it back to Hephaestus’s workshop in one piece.

You think about knocking. And then you realise how stupid that idea is, and burst right in.

Heaving, sweating, and rubbing your sore chin, you stand wilting in the doorway of his workshop. He’s hanging from the ceiling on some sort of platform, but jumps down when he notices you.

“Ah,” he cleared his throat. “It’s you.” Hephaestus raises his hand to his beard and pats at it, putting out a great deal of fire burning there.

“Percy’s dead. And Grover is as good as.” You swallow, and kick the door shut blindly. “I want a way out of here, and you’re going to help me.”

“Look at you, making all the demands!” He laughs. It’s bellowing, and it rumbles the room. “Little demigod. Get a hold of yourself. You’re getting tears on my floor.”

You flinch in place at his cruelty. “My best friend just died!” You yell out. “Percy’s dead, because you told us to do something. This is your fault.”

Hephaestus looks up from the screwdriver in his hand, to meet your eyes head on. It’s like tiny fires are burning there. “Hold your tongue, daughter of Athena. It’s unbecoming. And I didn’t kill the other one—whatever was in there did that.”

“Telekhines,” you spat. A gritty tear rolls down your cheek. “That’s what’s in there. Or, was. It’s all blown apart now. So we went there for nothing. I hope you know they’re all against you. Kronos’s army is rising, and they’re coming for you.” And I can’t say I blame them.

He paused, raised a brow briefly, and scoffed. “Demigods don’t scare me.”

“No, but Kronos does. And he’s still coming whether you like it or not. You killed my friend. So I have a request.”

Hephaestus threw down the instrument in his hand, colliding with a metal worktop and echoing somewhat off the walls. You cringe, but refuse to back up. “Look at you, demigod, making all the requests.” He pauses for a moment. “But I cannot deny you, I suppose. You did as I asked. You want a way home.”

“Of course I want a way home,” you seethed.

He cocked his head and huffed. “Go out of here. Follow the tunnel left, and all the way down. You’ll find your way home, daughter of Athena.”

Without a ‘thank you’ you find yourself marching out of his workshop, abandoning the door. You do as he says, and it feels ridiculously easy, hand on the wall again and sliding your fingers across to follow the way it bends. Left, and all the way down. Your fingers hit a bump in the wall, and that little bump instantly begins to glow dark blue.

It makes you think of Percy, but you have no energy left to cry with.

Hephaestus wasn’t misleading you, then. Stepping away from the hole opening up over your head, dirt caves in and crumbles around your feet. A dirty ladder begins to shake its way out of the dirt wall, all the way up to the new gap in the earth.

You hear voices, as you heave up the ladder. It’s short, and doesn’t take long to reach the opening at the top, where a hand has reached down to help you up, a face peering in—Clarisse.

Her expression is one of apprehension, and it’s as serious and firm as ever. Her muddy eyes flick over your face, and you imagine you must look a state. Your chin still burns with your ground collision, cheek smarted.

For a second, as she pulls you with a strong hand from the Labyrinth, she doesn’t say anything. You barely look at Clarisse, crawling out of the hole. A distance away you can hear voices.

“They’re all patrolling that way,” she grumbled. “Bit of a stupid move on our part. You’re lucky I was here, and not…” she trails off. You’re not quite short who you were lucky she wasn’t to be, because you can’t find anything in yourself to question her.

Instead, you shake your head. Clarisse pulls you to your feet, and you’re vividly aware of the smell of camp, strawberries and the smell of the trees. The air is a cold shock above ground.

Finally you look up. You meet Clarisse’s somewhat concerned look. She stares expectantly.

“Percy’s dead,” you swallow. Clarisse’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, then everything falls from her face. “Grover’s gone. And I need to talk to Chiron.”

“Wait—” you stumble past her, tearing your arm from her grip. The world feels blurred. “They’re—they’re both dead?! They’re gone?”

“That’s what I said, Clarisse!” You snap, raising your arm to wipe your eyes.

“We all thought that you’d be fine down there!” She follows after you. “You’re—capable, at the least! I don’t understand!”

You walk quickly through the woods, tearing past groups of people on guard, and some kids playing by the cabins. Up ahead is the Big House, your destination. People call your name when they see you, but there’s nothing left to answer them with.

You wished you could smiled, walking into the house. You wished Grover and Percy were right behind you, laughing at something stupid as usual. You might have been greeted by your friends with cheers, quest completed successfully.

Murphy’s Law says anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. If you have a handful of opportunities of things that can go wrong, the one most likely to cause damage will occur. You’ve deducted that Murphy’s Law is charging your life.

So, you walk the creaking, fading steps of the Big House and along the porch. You thought of Percy at the very beginning of all of this, recovering on this porch. It made you think of returning here after Bianca passed. You throw open the door, bordered by white drapes, met with silence.

“Hey,” calls Clarisse. “Hey, look, I know how you feel. But we should get you to the med bay first. You look about to pass out.”

And you feel it, too. But you can’t rest until you’ve settled this.

Chiron’s face lights up when he hears you, standing in the doorway. Brown eyes warm and welcoming sadly fade, like he knows.

You choke on a sudden flow of tears, the back of your hand flying to your mouth. “He’s dead,” you tell him outright. “Percy’s dead.”

That’s the most important thing to tell. Not that you didn’t find Daedalus, or that you insulted a god down there, nor that you abandoned Nico. After all, it is the worst thing imaginable, in your eyes. All-consuming horror, taking over every inch of you. Your best friend, your longest friend, is dead.

“He saved me,” you whisper shakily.

There’s a lot of hush on camp, after that. The daylight was already fading when you came up above ground again, and it’s nearly gone now, the sky a dull, sad shade of dark-blue. Clarisse declared the time to be six o’clock in the evening exactly when you climbed out of the Labyrinth. You spend two hours going over everything in excruciating detail, from the second you stepped foot in the maze and the meeting with Hera, the blown-up forge, and what you saw. Everything feels strange after spending, as Chiron tells you, a week in almost complete darkness, with no way to tell time, in a setting altering itself every few minutes. The distant sound of laughing campers and the kids playing by the lake are long gone, as if the whole camp knows what has happened—maybe they do know. But nobody can feel the grief you feel, the struggle to really accept what happened. Logically, Percy is very, extremely dead and gone. Your heart is beginning something to change.

You don’t sleep well that night. Chiron writes down every little thing you say, and has Clarisse bring up some food for dinner for you. It’s kind, and unusual for her. She keeps her gaze lowered the whole thing you’re there, but she isn’t mean, so that’s something.

It’s nearly nine o’clock, and you’ve washed and dressed, ready for sleep in the spare room on the third floor of the house. There’s absolutely no way you can face company tonight—you’re drained completely, and know the second you hit the pillow you’ll be out. Nursing a cup of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows per Chiron’s sympathy, you settle at the table, swirling around the pink and white delicacies in your mug with a teaspoon. It’s a kind thought to make it for you, but you don’t need hot chocolate; you need to scream. You need to grab the nearest bat, and smash up the kitchen. You notice a rolling pin hanging from the wall…

“We need to talk about the maze,” says Chiron in a low tone.

It’s late and you want to sleep. “We already did.” You clink the spoon against the mug.

“It’s just��my dear, nobody navigates the maze like that. The way you described, coming back in the dark… Chris Rodriguez and Clarisse were down there for weeks, separated, and neither managed to find a way out alone. Someone found them. Alone, they might have been stuck down there for a lot longer than they were. They were the last people to go down before yourself, Percy and Grover. You walked alone, and found your way not only to the workshop, but back out of the maze again in one short go.” He pauses. “How did you do it?”

You swallow and breathe in order to ebb away the annoyance you’re feeling a lot of. You shrug. “I uh…I just knew what to do. Hephaestus told me which way to go before Clarisse found me but—well, I just walked the rest. Couldn’t see a damn thing.”

“You just knew?” He repeats. Raising your head, Chiron is frowning deeply. “To me, it doesn’t seem right. Put it this way, my dear—nobody has been able to navigate the maze like that since Luke.”

You slam down the mug in an instant on the hard wood table, spilling the contents all over the table, dripping to the floor. “Alright, so you think I’m working with Luke? Because I walked a couple of tunnels alone? If you really believe after my best friend was killed by the very people Luke is working with, that I’d work with that guy, your head needs a good tap, no offence.” You stand up swiftly, knocking the chair back. He calls your name but you ignore it and stomp up the stairs to your temporary bedroom.

In there, you lock the door, get on your knees, and pray. Your tears soak your clasped hands at the side of the bed. You get on your knees, and you beg.

I’ve added the song ‘everything in its right place’ by Radiohead to the capsize playlist on Spotify if you want to give it a listen! Figured it worked well with the end of this chapter. After all, these things are Fated to unravel whether our main gal likes it or not ☺️ the song absolutely hits me in the gut. It’s the epitome of ‘oh, it didn’t go the way you planned? tough. it’s meant to be this way’ and the realisation that things are falling as they should.

taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl @tojismassivemantiddies @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138 @obxstiles @mxltifxnd0m @cxcilla @itzjustj-1000 @sp00kcanwrite @randomesthings @fratbrochrisgf @prongsflower @bugszi

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something-tofightfor · 1 year ago

Text

All I Ever Needed

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (Just Too Good To Be Gone pairing)

Word count: 12,330

Rating: NSFW / E. You’ve been warned.

Warnings: Spoilers for the end of TLOU / TLOU season 1 - and the timeline that follows before the 2nd game.

Summary: While on patrol and looking for the source of a distress call received by Jackson, you and Joel take a much needed detour.

Author’s Note: Six and a half months later, and here we are with a Joel story that I’ve been picking away at the entire time. Sorry I stepped away for so long but now that this is done ... all bets are off.

This takes place just before TLOU 2′s timeline begins, and if you’re familiar with that, you’ll understand the significance of something mentioned in this story.

This was directly influenced by conversations I had with @stealyourblorbos, who encouraged me by providing some of the most *appealing* Joel visuals... so I hope you enjoy it, Jules.

Fun fact: the location mentioned in this chapter actually exists, but the way it looks today is much different than it was in 2013 - see the link on the masterlist for more info!

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Just Too Good To Be Gone Masterlist

Song Suggestion: “Enjoy The Silence” by Depeche Mode

“We should find somewhere to spend the night.”

Looking to your left, you watched as he eyed the road in front of you, his horse’s reins held tightly between his gloved fingers. As always, Joel was entirely focused on what he was doing, the man on alert despite the fact that his posture was loose and you hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary in hours. Not hours, days.

“There are some houses at the 89/191 split, but a lot of ‘em are on the other side of the river, and I’m not sure we can cross.”

He turned his head to look at you, the man’s eyes sliding over your face and then down before they rose once more. “We just need a roof and some dry wood to build a fire. We’ll find something.” You knew that he was right - that even if it was little more than the hollowed out husk of a gas station or one of the small houses, you and Joel would make do together - because you always did. “That leaves what, ten miles to get back tomorrow?”

“A little under fifteen, actually.” Shivering at a sudden gust of wind, you nodded. “There should be a place for the horses there, too, just to keep them from being in the open.” He nodded once, in reply, a knit hat pulled down low over his ears. With a quiet click of your tongue, you eased your horse to a slightly faster gait, Joel following suit as he caught up.

You were out on a long patrol, but that was nothing new for either of you. Tommy and Maria felt comfortable sending you further south than anyone usually went - Jackson to Bondurant, the two of you searching for the source of a call for help that had come in over the radio a few days earlier.

You’d found nothing, despite a thorough search of the area. After a day of exploration, you decided to head back, armed with the knowledge that even though you hadn’t found anyone, all of the bridges and roads you’d traveled were still intact, even after the brutal winter you’d experienced.

It was still cold - the thick blanket of snow on the ground just beginning to melt in places, ice in patches making it important to carefully lead the horses each steep of the way. But the company was good, and you weren’t about to complain.

Especially when Joel broke the silence of the ride with quiet humming and occasionally sang a few verses from the songs, too. Especially since you knew that when you did stop for the night, you’d have the warmth of him to lean into until morning, the two of you trading off shifts of wakefulness and sleep until it was time to head back to Jackson.

It had been four days on the road together. Even though being near him in the quiet of Wyoming’s rolling hills and valleys with the Tetons as your backdrop wasn’t much different than being with him in Jackson, you liked it.

You liked the quiet and calm. You liked the solitude. You liked the fact that it was just you and Joel, and that while he could have had anyone else go with him on the patrol, he’d asked for you.

It wasn’t a surprise, but it still made you feel good about yourself - about the fact that he considered you an asset to the assignment, that he trusted you to take care of yourself and him if necessary.

And you knew that there was more to it, too. You knew that if you had found the people that you’d picked up the call from, he’d wanted a face friendlier than his to be present - someone that would inspire trust and decrease concern in strangers in a way that even after a few years in Jackson, Joel couldn’t.

But the point was moot because you’d found nothing. Even though the two of you had been wary of the distress call being a trap, it didn’t seem like it had been. You hoped that whoever had called had found safety, and that they were alright - that you wouldn’t be finding bodies during further patrols after the spring thaw. They probably aren’t, you admitted to yourself as you passed a sign for Hoback Junction, the tiny town coming into view on your left.

Neither of you spoke as you bypassed the first section of it, Joel raising one arm and pointing to your right and the remains of a gas station and market. You’d stopped there a few times in the years before you’d known Joel, and it didn’t look any worse than it had then, aside from the increasingly weathered appearance of long abandoned vehicles.

A few minutes later, Joel dismounted, telling you to stay on your horse, his voice quiet enough that you barely heard it. He handed over the reins and reached for the gun he kept tucked into his waistband, but you weren’t worried. Maybe we can sleep upstairs.

You eyed the building as he advanced toward it. He kept the gun held loosely in one hand, his steps careful and measured. The market had been on the bottom level, and though the contents were long since gone and cleared out, there were a few rooms upstairs that had proven useful in the past when it came to staying there overnight out of necessity.

They offered little more than a bed and a roof, but the heat from the two of you and your sleeping bags would keep you much warmer than being outside would, even if a fire wasn’t possible. And we wouldn’t have to keep watch because we could just drag the mattress against the door.

The twinge of unease you felt as you watched Joel’s broad shoulders disappear through the main doors turned into a quiet anxiety for the long moments he was gone. The feeling buzzed in your chest and gave you the urge to reach for your gun, too. But when he reappeared a few minutes later, his weapon lowered, you knew that you could finally relax. “All clear.”

He rolled his shoulders out as he headed back for you, pointing over his shoulder with one thumb. “Looks like someone already tied up horses in there at some point, because there’s a good place for it. We can walk over an’ get some water from the river before feedin’ ‘em.”

“OK.” Nodding, you gestured toward the building with your chin. “Anyone been in there recently? Maybe those people that -”

“Nope.” He stuck a hand on his hip, shaking his head. “Everything was dry and closed up. Took the stairs and checked on the second floor, too. Nothin’. If they were here, the cleaned up real good after themselves.” He paused and then frowned. “You’re shivering.”

“It’s barely spring, Joel. Wasn’t so bad when we were moving, but now…” You shivered again, wrinkling your nose. “Come on. We should get these horses stowed while we’ve still got light.”

And so you did, Joel taking his reins back and leading his horse ahead of yours and through the doors, the two of you working in silence to get them situated before Joel spun in a slow circle, chewing on his lip.

“I’m gonna go get that water. Looks like there’s a place by the window to make a fire, we can open it a little to let the smoke out. Saw a woodpile out back, if you wanna use it.” Telling him that you would, you waited until he’d left the room again to move, feet carrying you out through the back door and to the wood he’d mentioned.

You chose the driest pieces you could find and carried them inside, setting them in the location he’d pointed out. By the time he got back, you had a fire ready to go, kindling stacked and arranged in a way you hoped would quickly catch.

Joel stepped next to you and then crouched down, hands hanging between his bent knees as he stared at your construction. But for long moments, he didn’t say anything. “Joel?” I know what that look means. Turning your head toward him, you narrowed your eyes. “What did I do wrong?”

“Can I show you somethin’?” He met your eyes, a genuine kindness in them that he didn’t often expose to others. “Just one little -”

“Yeah.” Your lips twitched as you fought back a smile. “Of course.” He nodded once, drawing your attention with the extension of one finger.

“You didn’t leave enough space for air flow at the bottom. Somea these tiny little pieces? The twigs? If you stick ‘em between the other ones, and point ‘em to the middle, you open it up more. Give the flame a chance to breathe.” He repositioned the wood as he spoke, the man’s fingers nimbly working to build up the bottom layers.

You liked watching him do things, liked watching him show you what he knew, and though the gesture would probably have annoyed you coming from anyone else, from Joel it didn’t. Because he’s not making the point he can do it better. He’s making sure I know what to do next time. “There was a cushion back behind the counter. It looked like there was some cotton inside.” Jerking your head to the right, you sighed. “I probably should have grabbed some of that for -”

“Hey.” He turned his head to look at you before shaking it back and forth. “We would have been able to light what you built, no problem. I just -”

“I know.” You reached out, squeezing his bicep through the thick jacket he wore. “And I appreciate that, Joel. Thank you for showing me.” He watched as you stood up, slowly reaching for you before his hand wrapped around your calf - just above the top of the boot you wore. Then, he squeezed, the man giving you a single nod before letting go. “Let me see if that cotton’s going to help.”

He stayed quiet when you turned and headed for the counter, smoothly rounding it and eyeing the torn seat cover. Fluffy strings of filling spilled out from it as though something had attempted to pull them free. Mice, maybe. Or squirrels. You lifted the whole thing, but before you turned to head back to Joel, something else caught your eye. Hmm. Transferring the pillow to one hand, you reached out with the other, fingers lifting the folded sheets of paper as you picked it up.

“Take a look at this.” You spoke when you’d lowered yourself back to the floor next to him, setting the cushion down. “Remember going to rest stops and travel plazas before, Joel? All the maps and brochures for stuff you could do wherever you happened to stop?” You grinned as you flipped the tri-fold open, eyes scanning the faded pictures and words on the pages. “Looks like this place is no different.”

“Yeah?” He was tucking small tufts of cotton between the branches, jaw set in an expression you read as concentration. “What kinds of things could you do here before the world went to hell?”

“There are apparently some hot springs down the road to the west.” Tracing over the faded paper with one finger, you smiled. “Says here winter’s the best time to go, too, because everything around them is frozen, but the heat from the water keeps them exposed.”

“That so?” He cleared his throat. “We had a place like that at home. Didn’t have to worry about it freezin’ though. And I guess it wasn’t really hot, kids used to swim there in the summer.” He smiled, the man’s lips briefly curving upward. “Me an’ Tommy would take Sarah.

The name slipped from his lips much more easily than it used to - the man’s memories of the girl still associated with pain and sadness, but also tinged with genuine nostalgia. Now it’s Ellie’s name he tries not to say.

“This says that the water in these is… was about 104, so who knows what it’s like now, or if they still exist, but that definitely would have been nice.” Reading through the information, you shrugged. “Here.” You held the brochure out, waiting until he’d taken it from you to reach for the lighter that was zipped into the pocket of your jacket. “Wonder what else is -”

He stopped you with one hand on your arm just before you touched the flame to the cotton, Joel saying your name quietly. “Don’t. Not yet.”

“Why?” Cocking your head to the side, you blinked in confusion. “We just -”

“We’ve still got plenty of light.” Joel sighed, frowning as he eyed the map. “And this looks like it’s only a couple miles down the road, if you want to go and take a look.”

“Really?” Inhaling sharply, you widened your eyes. “Is that safe? We’d be -”

“We haven’t seen anyone or anything in three days aside from those animal tracks. River’s on one side, hills on the other. I think…” He nodded. “I think I can watch your back for long enough for you to climb in for a couple minutes if you want.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit, Joel.” Leaning in, you raised an eyebrow. “So you’re going to have to keep your eyes wide open.”

In another move that wasn’t quite a surprise, Joel closed the distance between you, the man’s mouth covering yours for long moments before he pulled away and turned his head so that he could speak into your ear.

“Gonna be a tough job, but I think I can handle it.”

—

The trip from the market to the springs took just over an hour on foot, you and Joel talking quietly almost the whole way.

It felt almost normal - your conversation oscillating from the remainder of that patrol to what would happen in the coming weeks in Jackson. You brought up the annual spring dance that was set to take place two weeks later, and Joel questioned you about the greenhouses and the crop rotation that would start almost immediately after that.

You talked about everything but Ellie. Joel changed the subject when she came up and so you didn’t linger on it, though you barely managed to hide your wince at the sound of hurt in his voice.

It’ll get better. You sighed as you reached for his gloved hand, squeezing it tightly. It has to. The girl’s silence toward him had extended for much longer than you’d anticipated it would, though you couldn’t blame her for it. And you’d spoken to her often since their falling out, Ellie not often pushing you for information about the man, but hinting that she wanted to know every now and then. So you knew that somewhere, deep down, the possibility of their reconciliation existed - no matter how far into the future the girl continued to let the hurt linger. It’s gotta be on their terms. I can’t force it.

“So what are we lookin’ for?” Joel said your name again, gesturing in front of you with his free hand. “Brochure said a boat ramp, but we’re probably not going to see that under all this snow.”

“There was an actual pool, too.” You turned your head to look across the river, squinting. “But it said that closed before 2012, and I think it’s on the other side of the river, anyway.” What are we looking for? “So I guess we just look for open pools of water close to the -”

“Like that?”Joel stopped, pointing. “Looks like there’s some steam comin’ up off of that right there.” He was right - and so you stopped, too, the smile on your face growing. “That’s bigger than I thought it would be.”

The pool was about fifteen feet long and roughly six or seven wide, the water clear enough that you could see the rocks on the bottom. The sight of it warmed you thoroughly, steam curling up from the surface and telling you everything that you needed to know about how warm the water still was. It’s going to feel so good.

“Come on.” You tugged on his hand, carefully beginning to make your way down the slope and toward the exposed pool. “It looks like some of these rocks are flat and dry enough that we can put our stuff on them and it won’t get wet.”

“Or, I can hold your clothes.” He stopped when you did, the two of you mere inches away from the edge of the water. “Since I’m not -”

“Joel, you’re going in.” You exhaled, turning to face him. “You said it yourself, there’s been nothing but those tracks this whole time, and that was miles to the south. Nothing that can hurt us is going to cross that river before we see it, and look.” You pointed. “There’s an overhang that keeps us hidden from the road. We’d hear anyone and anything coming long before they see us. And…” Biting down on your lower lip, you winked at him. “I’m pretty sure your aim wouldn’t be worse because you’re not wearing clothes.”

It took him a second, but he laughed at your words, the lines appearing at the corners of his eyes and the slump of his shoulders telling you that there was no way he was going to argue with you. Good, because he needs this. “You get in first.” He took a breath to steady himself, gesturing at the water. “Tell me how warm it is.”

As much as you wanted to let him go first, the steamy air and low noise of the rushing water convinced you otherwise. So with no complaint or protest, shrugged off your backpack and unzipped your jacket, laying both down on the rocks behind you. From there, you reached for your sweater and pulled it - along with your undershirt over your head, dropping those onto your coat as you shivered in the chilly air, nipples stiffening into peaks beneath the thin material left covering you.

Joel didn’t look away when you tugged off your tank top, too, tossing it behind you and onto the other clothing before you sat down on one of the larger rocks, unlacing your boots one at a time. “Thought you’d be wearin’ more layers.” He finally spoke as you removed your socks, balling them up and stuffing them into the sleeve of your jacket. “It’s cold out here, and -”

“I have another shirt in my bag, but it hasn’t been that cold, Joel.” Looking up at him, you smiled. “I can guarantee that you’re not wearing anything more than I am, so I don’t … I don’t know what point you’re trying to make here.” He grumbled at your words, barely concealing a smile, and when you stood again, easing your jeans down and over your hips, you watched as he stared at you, the man’s tongue dragging slowly over his lower lip. I love it when he looks at me like that.

Making sure your jeans weren’t trailing in the water, you stepped forward and groaned at the feeling of the warmth when you sunk your feet into it. “Warm?” His voice - low and deep from behind you - made you turn, Joel’s eyes focused on your face. “Looks like it.”

“It is.” Stepping deeper into the pool, you were careful not to slip and fall, relishing the curve of the smooth stone beneath your feet. It had been two days since you’d removed your boots, and when you closed your eyes at the way it felt to wiggle your toes through the gently moving current, you didn’t bother stopping the sigh that escaped you. “It’s hot Joel. This is going to feel amazing.”

Turning around when you reached the far side of the pool, you faced him again. You locked eyes before you lowered yourself into a sitting position, hands stretched out on either side of you for balance. Oh, this was a good idea.

The water came up to mid chest, and at the way it felt - the first time you’d truly been enveloped in so much warmth in nearly twenty years, you actually moaned, closing your eyes. Holy shit, this is… amazing. “I could watch you like this all day.” His voice forced your eyes open again, and you found that Joel was still standing in place, arms crossed over his chest. “Goddamn.”

The need in his voice went straight to your belly, white-hot and focused. With a sigh, you stretched your legs out in front of you, keeping your attention on him. “You gonna give me something to watch, too?”

He didn’t hesitate, unzipping his jacket and letting it drop to the ground next to his pack, his sweatshirt and undershirt following. Your eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of his upper body, shoulders dropping in another contented sigh at the sight of him. Doesn’t matter how many times I see him like this, it’s always better than the last. Joel dropped his hands to his sides and took a deep breath, holding it.

You watched as he flexed his fingers, wrist moving back and forth a few times with nervous energy. Before Joel could speak, you beat him to it, lifting one hand and holding your palm out and toward him. “Bring the gun with you if it’ll make you feel better.” He visibly relaxed and nodded, reaching for his waistband and removing the firearm before setting it down on the rocks and undoing his belt and the button of his jeans.

“This feels wrong.” He bent over, untying his boots and then using his right foot to anchor the left while he pulled it free. “Feels dangerous. It feels like -”

“It feels like it’s going to be fine, Joel. No one’s going to sneak up on us. We didn’t even see tracks in the snow from people. We’re the only ones that have been anywhere near here since before it snowed last.” He lowered himself to the ground as you spoke, pulling his socks off and stuffing them into his boots before easing to his feet again, hands pausing at the waistband of his jeans. “C’mon, Miller. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Gimmie a minute.” He sighed, closing his eyes - and then pushed his pants down to his ankles in one smooth movement before stepping out of them and kicking them backwards. The denim joined the pile of other clothing he’d just removed and left him standing in front of you in only a threadbare pair of boxers, the elastic settled low on his hips. “If this ain’t warm, I -”

Oh, it’s warm alright. He stopped speaking though, as soon as he dipped a single foot into the pool, his jaw dropping as your grin widened.

You watched him relax - watched the way his posture loosened the deeper he got into the water, the man only opening his eyes when he twisted his body backwards to reach for his gun.

But when he got to your side of the pool, reaching out to set the gun down atop a flat rock that was easily within reach, he closed them again as he turned his back to the river and sat down. The water wasn’t quite as deep where Joel was, and as you watched his torso disappear beneath the surface, the cotton of his underwear clinging to his thighs, you realized that it didn’t matter. Because this is probably the warmest thing he’s had in just as long.

Joel settled in and stayed quiet, jaw working as his breaths evened out - and you didn’t want to break the moment.

Instead, you stared at him, watching as Joel slouched down in into the water, the liquid creeping further up his chest the more he stretched out. “Holy shit this feels good. Last time I was in water this warm was … shit, it was the shower I took the day of …” He trailed off, opening his eyes and looking over at you. The day of the outbreak. “Damn.”

Your heart ached for him and for the look in his eyes - one of barely muted anguish - but it was gone only seconds later, replaced with an easy expression that you were much more used to. He wants to move past it? Ok. “Well it definitely wasn’t at your place in Jackson.” Giving him an exaggerated wince, you went on. “It would take a long time to boil enough water to fill up your tub.”

“Sorry that my 30 year old water heater can’t compete with this.” He lifted one hand, indicating your surroundings. “I’ll get right on that. Can’t have the princess gettin’ cold, or -”

You interrupted him with a barking laugh, eyes squeezed shut and your head tilted back. After only a few seconds Joel’s laugh joined yours - and his hand shot out beneath the surface of the water, fingers encircling your wrist and pulling you forward.

You realized what he was doing before he’d moved you far, and moments later you were tightly pressed against his side and chest, Joel releasing your wrist so that he could wind an arm around you. “What’s so damn funny?” He mumbled the words into your ear, his warm breath a shocking difference from the way the steam-filled air felt against your skin. “Are you laughing at me?”

“I am.” You settled against the rocks, sighing. “Getting naked in the snow, calling me princess, making an actual joke… who are you and what have you done with Joel Miller?” You got a quiet chuckle in return, the man’s chest vibrating beneath your palm. When you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to the underside of his jaw, you went on. “I like you like this, Joel. I wish it could happen more.”

“I do, too.” He tightened his arm around you, taking a long breath and holding it .”And maybe it can.” There was another pause and in confusion, you sat up straight, staring at him. What? “We’ve been in Jackson for what, almost four years?”

It didn’t seem like that long - and at the same time, if felt like he’d been in your life forever, the time you’d spent in Jackson before he’d arrived a period of loneliness that grew hazier in your memories by the day. Four years. “Mhmm.” Rubbing your fingertips over the skin of the center of his chest, you nodded.

“Four years is long enough to keep myself from believin’ it’s real.” He sighed, shifting next to you and sinking a few inches deeper into the water. “It feels… nice to laugh. I like not lookin’ over my shoulder every time I walk out of my house. Not worryin’ about Ellie all the time is … I mean I still worry, but…” He paused and then spoke again, voice low. “It’s not like when we were on the road, or when we first got to Jackson. I wish it all hadn’t happened like it did, but …”

“Holding onto a secret like that … like those will wear you down quick, Joel. I get it.” Your fingertips traced over the front of his shoulder, following the divot in his skin from an old scar downward. “But what do you mean by saying that maybe it can happen?”

“Maybe it’s time to stop punishin’ myself. For Nadine. For Sarah. For Tess. Salt Lake. Hell, even for Ellie. It ain’t fair to me and it sure as hell isn’t fair for you to have to -”

“Joel.” You sat up straight, your hand settled on his side. Waiting until he was looking at you, you took a deep breath before continuing. “This isn’t about what’s fair for me. I told you I wanted you no matter what, and however you’d let me have you, before I knew any of it, and I meant it. This is life now, and you -”

“Shouldn’t have to be.” He reached up with his right hand, the shattered glass on his watch catching the gradually fading sunlight. “I promised to do right by you, and I intend to keep that promise.” You already are. Drawing your lower lip back and between your teeth while you waited, you sighed. “I’m gong to try. Try real hard to stop overthinkin’ and worryin’ so much. Whatever time I… we have left, I’m gonna make the most of it.”

He didn’t have to say any of it to you, and the fact that he was meant a great deal. He’s not saying it because he thinks I need to hear it, he’s saying it because he needs to make it real for himself. “If that means me getting to hear you laugh more, Joel?” Leaning in, you dragged your nose alongside his and nodded. “And see you smile more? Then good. That’s what I want, too.” He nodded, too, tilting his head enough to press his lips to yours.

The steam rose around you, the gentle current of the water flowing over your legs and around your bodies. For long moments you and Joel stayed connected - the kiss lingering but not deepening, the movement of his mouth against yours purposeful as he kissed you thoroughly.

You loved the moments like that with him - and were thankful that over the previous year and a half, they’d been coming more and more often - Joel’s affection for you more out in the open, though it was still mostly reserved for when you were behind closed doors or among friends.

After telling you the truth about Salt Lake City, he was also gentler - almost more steadfast in the way he treated you. The days when he’d rebuffed your emotions and tried to ignore his, pushing you away whenever he got the chance had all but ended. And it’s… better this way. He’s better this way, even though it cost him so much.

He still punished himself for what had happened - all the way back in Texas and as recently as with Ellie. But despite that, he’d stopped taking it out in the way he approached being with you and treating himself - and it was very apparent that deciding to make the effort had been a life-altering decision for him.

You nipped at his lower lip and then pulled away, sighing. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, Joel. These pools are great for your muscles and circulation. The heat’s going to make it so that it doesn’t feel like we’ve been on horses for the last couple days.”

“I am relaxin’.” Joel tilted his head back and rested it against the rocks behind him, turning slightly toward you. “But it’s kinda hard when you’re right here next to me.”

“Well then.” You settled back, putting some distance between you and shrugging. “My apologies.” His lips twitched, the man’s smile brief, and then he nodded once and closed his eyes, chest rising and falling as he took in deep breaths.

The significance of his closed eyes wasn’t lost on you. It was another instance of Joel trusting you to keep an eye out, of the man’s understanding that he was safe around you. And you are. I’d never let anything happen to you.

You watched him for long moments, eyes on the way he looked in the water - the snowy expanse behind him along with the rushing sound of the river contrasting with how warm and cozy he looked, how quiet the rest of the world around you was.

He had his left arm out of the water. That hand rested on the lip of the stacked rocks to keep his watch dry. Even though he occasionally tapped those fingers in a random pattern, low sighs escaping his lips, he didn’t speak and neither did you.

Arguably, Joel needed the rest and comfort much more than you did. Sure, he’d suggested the walk to the springs for your benefit, you were glad he was enjoying it, too. Because he deserves good things. It was a nice break in your scouting mission, and despite the fact that you knew you couldn’t stay for long, you wanted him to enjoy the time that the two of you had in the bubbling pool.

The water was warm - the steam and heat lulling you into a dazed comfort that made you press yourself back and against the rocks, eyelids drooping as you gazed over at the man next to you. Even the smell of sulfur dulled as the time passed and you got used to it, your deep breaths slowing as the water soothed your tired muscles.

His hand reached for you under the water after a few minutes, palm sliding over the back of it before he curved his fingers around yours and squeezed, thumb arcing over your palm. “Too bad these aren’t closer. We could come back.”

“It’s not that far.” You sighed, rolling your shoulders back and opening your eyes, once again looking over at him. “But they’re so close to the actual river, once this snow melts and the water level rises, they’ll be almost impossible to find.” Reaching up, you scratched at the side of your neck. “Might be easier to find a hot tub and hook it up in your back yard, to be honest.”

He scoffed at that and you smiled, eyes locked on the way a bead of water looked as it ran down his neck and over his scarred chest before it disappeared into the water, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. His hair was curling against the back of his neck, the steam dampening the ends of it and darkening them at the same time, the growing amount of silvery gray bright against the darker strands. “You’re starin’.”

“I am.” The response was immediate, your free hand moving slowly through the water - back and forth, fingers dragging over the shapes of the rocks and pebbles beneath it. “Can you blame me?”

“Can’t blame you, but I still don’t …” He groaned, his left hand curling into a loose fist. “Still don’t understand it sometimes.” Of course you don’t.

“You don’t have to understand, Joel.” Shifting onto your knees, you moved closer and pulled your hand free from his, cupping both of them together beneath the water and filling them. “You’ve just gotta let me do it.” His jaw pulled tight beneath his beard, the man nodding once as you lifted your hands and reached out, letting the water flow over his shoulder and chest. “Wish this was deeper. The air is cold.”

He dropped his gaze from your face to your chest, his eyes lingering there. When you glanced down, you saw that your bra was entirely see-through, nipples still stiff and visible through the soaked material. “I can see that.” He smiled - a tiny one that turned into a grin, Joel’s hands reaching for you - one wet, one dry - as he pulled you closer. “Lemme warm you up.”

It wasn’t quite comfortable to kneel on the rocks, but once you were straddling his lap and had settled your weight on his outstretched legs, it was better, your arms both winding around his neck as one of his moved to your waist, the other hand pressed against the back of your shoulder. “What’re you doing, Miller?” Threading your fingers through his hair and then dragging your nails along his scalp, you waited.

The air was still around you again, the only sound the moving water. For long moments you let yourself believe that you and Joel were on vacation - that the two of you would stand up and grab fluffy towels and walk a short distance back to a hotel where you’d hop in the shower, rinse off and then spend the rest of the night in a warm, comfortable bed, the TV playing some cable reruns in the background.

And it was easy - or at least easier than you’d thought it would be to let your mind go to that place, especially with the way Joel looked at you. His dark eyes were sharp under the heavy set of his brow, the man’s attention entirely on you, like it had been for so long. “I’m relaxin’.” He cleared his throat, the warmth of his palm on your back anchoring you to the spot. “As much as I can with you sittin’ on my lap, anyway.”

That made you laugh, your head tossed back as your grip on his hair tightened. “You’re the one that made it happen.” He mumbled a few words that sounded suspiciously like “I know I did”, and when you looked back at him, you found that his smile was gone, his lips set into a determined line. “Now you’re staring.”

“Sorry.” He wasn’t, and you both knew it, but instead of replying, you leaned in, resting your forehead against Joel’s, eyes closing slowly as you took a deep breath. “When do you want to go back?” Never. “We should probably think about headin’ there before it gets real dark. The road’s easy enough to follow, but I still don’t want to be slippin’ around on the ice.”

“Whenever you want, Joel.” Angling your head so that you you kiss his cheek, you nodded. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

You weren’t looking forward to getting dressed again, or to getting out of the water and exposing your skin to the late-winter air, but you knew that you had to. And we’ll get back and light the fire, and - “We can stay here a little while longer.” He spoke into your ear, his hold on you tightening. “Just a couple minutes.”

Relief flooded through you and you went limp in his arms, shifting so that you could lower your head and lay it against his shoulder. One hand slid down and then stopped on his bicep, the other moving beneath his opposite arm to curl around his back.

Your fingertips found and followed the length of a scar there, the raised skin a part of his body that you’d previously mapped over and over. But I’ll always do it again. It was just another piece of his history that made him Joel, and something that you would have been able to identify by touch with no questions asked. Something else to love.

He relaxed beneath you, but you felt his muscles go taut as he tilted his chin up again, the back of his head pressed against the rocks and exposing the column on his throat to the open air. At that, you opened your eyes fully, immediately zeroing in on the freckles there - tiny spots littering his tanned skin like a faint splatter of paint.

He had them all over, but the ones on his neck were your favorites. Just like you had so many times before, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and pressing your lips to them, a smile curving the corners of your mouth upward at his intake of breath.

“Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish.” Humming out a quiet laugh, you let your lips slide over his damp skin, parting them enough to let the edges of your teeth graze over the corded muscle on the side of his throat. He groaned at that, his grip on you tightening and the sound of your name escaping his lips. “C’mon, that ain’t fair.” We could make it fair.

You had one shot to convince him that you could continue, that the risk was truly low enough that it was outweighed by the benefits of following through on your actions. And I know just how to do it.

“What if I let you finish?” Kissing his collarbone, you shivered as he began to circle over your skin with his thumbs, Joel’s hips shifting beneath you. “Let you decide.” He swore again, the hand on your back sliding down so that it could rest against the band of your bra, fingers splayed to cover as much skin as possible.

There were times when he let you lead, no problem, Joel following your cues like he’d been doing it for decades.

There were others when things were equal, choices made in the moment and based on everything that was happening between the two of you.

But if anything else was going to happen that day, Joel had to be the one to lead. He needed to make the decision that it was safe, that he felt comfortable enough to let things progress - to lose yourselves in each other.

So what’s it going to be? You kissed along the line of his jaw, the man’s damp beard wiry against your lips. What’s he going to decide? Straightening up, you cocked your head to the right. “Hmm? We’re going to have to head back soon, so you’ve gotta pick fast.”

“We do this,” he started, nostrils flaring as his breaths quickened. “We do this and we’re gonna have to be quick, alright? This ain’t… it’s not like we’re at home.” You saw the desire in his eyes, the heat in them warmer than the water you were sitting in. But you also saw the twitch in his jaw, the man fighting with himself at the idea of what he was on the borderline of agreeing to.

“I know.” Releasing his curls, you nodded, one hand sliding over his cheek to cup it, that thumb moving slowly over his lips. “I know we’re not at home. But…” You trailed off, not breaking eye contact as you used your tongue to wet your lips. “But that doesn’t mean we have to rush.” He groaned as you pressed on the fullest part of his lower lip, his eyes closing halfway. “How many times have you told me that if you’re gonna do something, you should take the time to do it right?”

“Prob’ly every damn time.” Eyes opening again, Joel looked back up at you, the steam from the pool you were sitting in gathering on the skin of his cheeks and dampening his beard further. “So I guess I should follow my own advice.” He took his hands off of you for long enough to remove his watch, undoing the band before setting the device carefully next to his gun. He paused for a few seconds and then returned his hands to you, the man’s fingers trailing lightly over your shoulders and upper back.

You didn’t want to speak and risk ruining the moment, so you just nodded slowly, keeping your eyes on him. Joel’s hand dropped further, his thumb sliding beneath the band at the center of your back. In one motion, it came undone, his lips twitching as he fought back a smile at your surprised gasp when the sodden material loosened. “Joel.”

“Lean back.” His voice low, there was no room for argument with the words. You did as he asked, moving one hand down so you were holding onto the back of his neck and keeping the other on his arm, fingers curving around his shoulder.

He looked down and you watched his gaze as it traveled from your face to your chest, the man’s tongue dragging over his lower lip the same way your thumb had only moments before. What’s he going to - You found out soon enough, Joel’s head dropping as he leaned forward, his mouth landing first on your collarbone and then moving down, the hand he’d had on your waist sliding up your side.

He pushed your bra up, his palm covering one side of your chest, and when you gasped he groaned, his thumb arcing over your nipple, the warmth of his skin shocking against the chilled peak.

Shamelessly, you pushed your chest out, Joel understanding immediately what you wanted and continuing to work his way down your body. When he reached your other breast, he didn’t bother moving the material out of the way, his lips sealing over the peaked nipple and sucking, the pressure a welcome surprise. He flicked his tongue over it then, combining that with the flex of his fingers on the other side of you, squeezing the muscle there.

You knew that you should have kept your eyes open and on the opposite side of the river, but you couldn’t. You closed them and let yourself get lost in the feeling of him beneath and in front of you. If he was worried, he wouldn’t be doing this. The thought comforted you and so you let yourself relax, fingers stroking the back of Joel’s neck as he continued to mouth at your chest.

You inched forward on his lap, feeling him between your legs as you settled on his upper thighs. When Joel’s hips jerked at the contact you hummed, smiling. I can work with that. Letting go of his arm, you reached between your bodies and nudged your fingers into the slit of his underwear. The man jerked again at your actual touch, and when you pulled him free, fingers wrapped around his base, Joel backed off, staring up at you. “That’s what you want?”

“It is.” You stroked him a few times, the feeling different than anything you’d ever done before because of the water. “Always want you, Joel. You know that.”

His hair hung over his eye, and without pausing the motion of your hand, you released his neck and reached up with the other one, dragging your fingers through it and pushing it away from his forehead. His hand was still on your chest, the man slowly kneading at your flesh. This is it. The last time we can put a stop to this. The final… our final off ramp.

“Good.” He nearly growled the word, surging forward and surprising you when he released your chest and reached for your neck, gripping it and holding you in place. He pressed his forehead to yours, the man saying your name so softly it was almost a sigh.

And then you were kissing him again, Joel wasting no time in urging your lips apart with his tongue. You shifted your hips, changing your grip on him. When Joel bit down on your lip, the sting of his teeth hot in the cold air, you squeezed, his hips jumping up and forcing himself even deeper into your hand.

“Can’t…” He groaned, kissing you quickly. “Can’t reach you like this. Got no room.” You gave him two more strokes before you replied, sighing as you moved your lips toward his ear.

“Want me to get up?” Taking the lobe between your teeth, you smiled when he nuzzled against the side of your neck, his lips pressed to the place where it connected to your shoulder. “Make it easier?”

“No, I want you to move backwards.” He pushed you away gently, forcing you to release his ear and sit up. “Woulda done it myself, but I didn’t want to scrape your knees on these rocks.” He raised an eyebrow, the look in his eyes changing with every word coming out of his mouth. “How ‘bout it?”

You didn’t speak before moving. Cautiously, you backed away from Joel, the grit of the rocks and sand beneath your knees present but not uncomfortable. You didn’t let him go, either, your eyes dropping for long enough to watch as your hand moved beneath he bubbling surface of the water.

For a few moments, you wondered if what you were doing was a good idea, and then you looked past Joel and at the river and the water rushing by. Beyond that, the foothills and white-coated landscape stretched on to the horizon. We’d see anything or anyone coming. We’d see it all.

Sighing as you leaned in, you continued to stroke him beneath the water, fingers flexing as you paused between each motion. You braced yourself on his shoulder with your other hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek before ducking your tilted head down. He moved both hands to your hips, steadying you - and when you made contact with his skin again, it was to kiss his jaw, your lips lingering for long seconds.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. Always got you.” His voice a low rumble in your ear, you felt him nod. “We’re safe.”

That confirmation was all you needed, and you continued to mouth over his skin, leaving kisses over the taut column of his throat.

Despite the chill in the air, the man’s skin was blazing hot, and when you backed off enough to look at him, you let yourself stare, eyes locking with his for a few seconds before dropping down to his mouth and then to his chest, one thumb arcing slowly over the large scar on the front of his shoulder.

The steam was beading heavily on his skin, and your eyes followed a few of the droplets that got too large to stay in one place before they ran slowly down his chest. Your lips curved upward as you caught sight of a few more, and then you leaned in, parting them and extending your tongue to lap at the moisture, dragging the muscle over the man’s skin as he tensed beneath you. “What the -”

He tightened his hold on your hips but didn’t move his hands until you hummed quietly, licking your way up and over his clavicle before following the line of it to the hollow at the center of his throat. Joel’s groan vibrated against your tongue and when you felt his skin pull upward, you couldn’t keep the grin on your face at bay.

He was exposing his throat to you again - Joel’s fingers digging into the meat of your hips as he rested the back of his head against the rock behind him for a second time. You took advantage of it, teeth grazing over every inch of him until you said his name again, imploring him to look at you.

Joel locked eyes with you only a few moments later, one large hand rising and cradling your cheek, the tip of his thumb moving slowly beneath your eye. You leaned into his touch, still stroking him from root to tip without breaking stride. “Please, Joel. Right now.”

Typically, that would have been when he snuck a hand between your legs, using at least one of his thick fingers to open you up. It would have been when he batted your hand away and pushed you to lay back on the bed so that he could kiss his way down your body and settle himself at the apex of your thighs; his lips and tongue and the ridge of his nose sending you sailing over the edge at least once before he even thought about burying himself in your heat.

But that day, you didn’t want any of that. You wanted him - wanted him to take you without delay, wanted to him to worry only about himself and what he wanted and needed before he worried about you. He won’t, not completely, but…

“I’ll hurt you.” He frowned, looking down briefly. “Haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Maybe.” You paused your hand’s movement, circling his slit with your thumb. “We’re in the water, Joel. It’s not going to be like normal no matter what you do.” His surprise was evident, both of the man’s brows shooting up. “I’m ready to go if you are, and …” You looked down, too, watching the movement of your hand as you resumed it. “And you feel like you’re ready.”

“Been ready, darlin’.” His voice dropped lower than usual, and at the endearment’s use, it was your turn to gasp, your head rising again to meet his gaze. “Oh, I think you liked that.” He smirked, his thumb sliding over to trail over your lips. “Gonna have to remember that one.”

“I did.” Without breaking eye contact, you rose onto your knees and then moved forward again. “Please do.” He nodded, the hand at your waist moving inward and hooking beneath the elastic of your underwear, easing it to the side, Should have taken that off before. “I’m gonna go slow, alright?” Joel’s hand moved from your face to slide down your arm, pausing at your elbow.

“Whatever you need.” He licked his lips and then flexed his wrist, his knuckles brushing over you briefly. Your hips bucked forward at the touch and you saw the gleam in his eyes, the man barely containing his amusement. You know what you do to me. Don’t pretend like you don’t.

You aligned your body with his, glancing down long enough to make sure that the position would work. We’re good. We’re… Widening the spread of your legs, you felt the gravel biting into your knees as you sunk lower, the sting of the tiny rocks replaced by the slight discomfort of Joel inching his way into you.

It was a stretch - moreso than usual - and even though you hissed at the feeling, you kept going, closing your eyes and then tipping your head back. Another quiet whimper escaped when he was as deep as he could go, but that was cut short when you felt his lips on your neck, the man’s beard tickling everywhere it touched. “You feel good,” he mumbled, lips puckering against your skin. “Always do, but especially like this.”

Praise from Joel was something that you hoarded in your memories. The words from his lips were ones that you always longed to hear, especially when it came to the way that you made him feel - and what he said that day was no exception.

You wound both arms around his neck, and when he raised his head again, you nodded. “You do, too.” It was barely there and then it was gone; the smirk on his lips replaced with a contented look that you knew well. “Even when I have to do all the work.”

You began to move before he could react, a slow roll of your hips only pulling you back and forth a few inches at a time, but it was enough to get you started. He repositioned his hands on your body, fingers spread wide to cover as much of your waist and lower back as possible - and then Joel curled them inward, his grip grounding.

But he also used it to guide you, encouraging the angle of your movement. He paired his hold with small, shallow thrusts of his own hips, the man pushing them forward to meet yours - over and over, his eyes locked on yours and never wavering aside from his need to blink.

“Never done this in the water before,” you groaned after a few minutes, the pain completely gone and replaced with only a feeling of fullness as your bodies moved together. “It feels…”

��Different.” He grunted out the word, holding you in place. “Air’s kinda cold, though.” You chuckled at that but nodded in agreement, leaning in and kissing Joel deeply, the man’s response immediate.

“Then warm us up, Joel.” Speaking against his lips, you closed your eyes again. “I know you can.” He took instruction incredibly well, and soon you and Joel fell into a comfortable rhythm. Aside from the added warmth of the water and the grit of the spring’s floor below, it was no different from the other times you’d been with each other in a similar position.

The cold kept you alert though, the breeze chilling the droplets of water on your upper body. It gave you focus - ears attuned to the sounds Joel made; tiny grunts with each snap of his hips, the goan that stuck in his throat when you sunk all the way down and circled your hips against the short, coarse hair at his base.

“Tell me what you need.” He sighed the words into your ear, one hand still resting on your back beneath the surface of the water and the other flat between your shoulder blades. You rocked against him a few more times as you contemplated his words. A couple things, but …

Slowly and without breaking your rhythm, you slid your hand down and over Joel’s arm, moving it until your hand was atop his. Fingers curling around his wrist, you tugged it between your bodies. When you backed away enough to look into his eyes, you nodded twice, taking a deep breath. “Angle’s no good without you touching me, Joel.”

You released his wrist, still staring at him - and then Joel spoke. “Stop movin’.” You froze, one hand resting on his thigh. Is everything alright? Are we - “When we get back to that old rest area?” You nodded, the ends of your fingers running through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m gonna drag one of those mattresses down the stairs and show you a good angle.”

Biting back the response you wanted to give him, you nodded and settled for a quiet hum. “Alright.” You rolled your hips, laser-focused on the way Joel responded - the tic of his jaw, the hand on your shoulders sliding down more than a few inches. “Want me to get off of -”

“No. But I’m gonna get you off.” He leaned closer, mouth landing on yours. “And we’re gonna go from there.”

As he kissed you, the man’s tongue sliding over your lower lip and then past it to meet yours, Joel began to touch you too, the pad of his thumb seeking and finding its target with no difficulty, despite the odd angle and the presence of the soaked fabric of your underwear. He moved it in slow, small circles, the kiss continuing as you began to move again, too, rising enough to feel the drag of him through you on your retreat and a push into you with each downward motion.

There was more pain as you dug your knees into the grit beneath them, bearing down on the man. But you ignored it, the building heat in your belly occupying almost all of your thoughts.

He knew just how to touch you, had learned your body almost as well as you knew it yourself in the time that you’d known each other. And I’m so goddamn thankful for that. You broke the kiss, tilting your head downward to watch where your bodies connected through the water you sat in, the clear liquid swirling slowly around your legs.

It was usually a chain reaction - when one of you came, the other followed suit, but part of you believed that Joel wouldn’t give himself the chance to finish in the water, instead preferring to bring you to and over the edge and deny himself until you were back inside for the night. But that’s not what I want.

You sped up as much as you could, clenching around him when you paused before rising each time, and that seemed to do the trick. Joel grunted and reversed the direction his thumb was moving in. He increased the pressure and you nodded as you turned your head toward his neck, mouthing at the skin there. “Keep going, Joel.” You closed your eyes, focusing on him. “Please.”

The hand on your back moved lower, following the line of your spine until just before it reached the water and then stopped, his roughened fingertips replaced with the edges of his nails - and when he dug those in, he thrust upward at the same time he switched from his thumb to two fingers, the added pressure immediately working to make you come.

You cried out, his name the only word you could think of, the sound of it carrying away from you and far across the barren landscape. Instead of stopping what he was doing, Joel continued, prolonging your pleasure with his hand and body.

You bit down on his shoulder, the motion of your body stuttering as you rode out your climax - but when Joel attempted to slow down, you didn’t let him. “No, Joel.” Tonguing at his ear, you took the lobe between your teeth and tugged. “Don’t you dare make me do this alone.”

The aftershocks of your orgasm urged him in deeper as your muscles contracted around him, and you reached backward, behind your body with one hand, continuing to roll your hips. Bracing yourself on his thigh, you leaned back, taking a deep breath.

You rolled your hips over and over as you wound your arm around his neck, and Joel did his part to hold you up - one arm firmly around your shoulders, the other one pressed to the center of your back. His hand supported your head as you kept it upright, heavy lidded eyes focused on his face.

Squeezing for balance, you used your legs to lift yourself higher. The change in position gave him more room to move and the warmth of the water made the odd angle feel better, even as you slipped on the surface beneath you. Ah, shit. You regained your balance thanks to the tightening of his fingers against your back and your not-so-gentle tug on the hair at the nape of his neck. “C’mon, Joel. You’re close.” Humming as you met one of his shallow thrusts, you nodded. “I can feel it. Let me feel everything. Please.”

He grunted again, nodding. You let go of his leg and straightened back upright, increasing your pace as you moved up and down. It took him by surprise but Joel matched you thrust for thrust after only a few moments, his bearded chin pressed against your shoulder as his chest rose and fell, each motion a mirror of your own. “Oh, shit.” He swore, hips bucking upward twice in quick succession, surprising you and forcing you all the way down, your oversensitive skin grinding against his base. “Oh, shit, I…”

The man’s nails dug into your skin, and you were almost certain that you’d have visible marks once he let go - but you didn’t care. “That’s it.” Speaking quietly into his ear, you nodded, your cheek pressed to his. “Right there, Joel. Give me everything. Give it all, I want -”

He came with a lurch of his body, the water splashing as his knee broke the surface when it jerked upward.

Even though the water was already warm, you felt him filling you, the man’s hips bucking in short, quick bursts and he emptied himself inside of your body. He spoke while he did it, the words mostly unintelligible, though you caught a few as you tried to focus on anything but your heart pounding in your ears and how harsh your breathing was.

“Nobody else.” He shuddered the words out, still holding you tightly. “Nobody else has ever -”

“Made you come in a natural hot spring? Yeah, I can say the same.” You interrupted, needing to break the tension.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear him say things like that to you - because you’d waited your entire adult life for someone to love you enough to mean it. It wasn’t even that it was the wrong place for it. The wide open expanse of Wyoming’s sprawling landscape provided the perfect backdrop for a man like Joel to bare his soul. But if he keeps talking like that, we’ll get carried away, and it’ll get dark, and …

Tugging on his hair, you eased his head upright, waiting to see what the look in his eyes was before you decided what to do next. “That too.” He was gawking at you, the day’s lay rays of sun turning his irises a warm brown. “But -” Oh, Joel.

“Yeah.” Nodding, you leaned in. “I know. Nobody.” That kiss started slow, building as he softened inside of you. The steam from the spring curled around you while Joel pulled you even closer, wrapping both of you in a warm blanket that helped to mask the chill of the air. I wish we could stay right here.

You were chest to chest, no space between your bodies, and as he moved to deepen the kiss, you let him. The last one. Then we have to go back. But he prolonged it, pulling away enough to take in a break and then he kissed you again, your fingers relaxing in the damp strands of his hair as his touch turned less possessive and more reverent, the way things so often did between you.

“We have to go back.” He finally broke away, his thinly-veiled disappointment not at all a surprise to you. “It’s gonna be dark soon, and it’ll get real cold.” Wordlessly, you backed away, knees dragging over the tiny stones as you eased off of him. “There’s an extra blanket in my bag. Not real thick, but it’ll dry us off.”

Shivering as you rose from the water to stand upright, you appreciated his thoughtfulness. Brushing the pebbles and silt from the skin of your legs, you turned for his bag, knowing full well that Joel was staring at your almost-nude form. Let him. Because I’m gonna stare at him, too.

Removing your underwear so that it didn’t soak your jeans, you dried off as quickly as possible, pulling your layers back on as Joel began splashing in the water behind you. “What a view.” He stepped behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder even though he kept his wet body away from your mostly dry one. “And I ain’t talkin’ about the Rockies.” It made you warm all over, but before you could turn around and tell him, he was gone, the man hissing as he stepped on a large rock. “That’s what I fuckin’ get, hmm?”

You laughed despite yourself, turning and handing him the blanket, though you were sure to get an eyeful before he started drying his skin. “I agree with you on the view.” Zipping your coat, you finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “It’s excellent out here.”

He grumbled but you saw the red rising in his cheeks as he pulled his underwear off, too. The man let it drop onto the rocks next to yours, turning his attention to his legs. “You’re fulla shit.” It still stunned you sometimes, just how far Joel had come in the years he’d spent in Jackson. If anyone had told you that the man you’d met for the first time at Tommy and Maria’s dinner table that refused to speak to you for most of the night would have turned into the man standing before you, you would have called them a liar. But I’d be the liar. Because he’s…

Joel bent to pull his jeans on, the faded denim sliding up and over his muscular legs, and you paused again, tongue poking out between your lips. Fuck. He’s so… “You definitely didn’t grow up in Texas.” Raising a brow, he ran one hand through his hair, slicking it back. “Because apparently no one ever told you it ain’t polite to stare.”

“You had no problem looking at me a couple minutes ago.” It’s not even a question. One hand on your hip, you shook your head. “So deal with it.”

Joel only laughed in return, propping his feet up one by one on a small boulder to lace up his boots, and you followed suit. “It took us what, an hour to get here?” You nodded, zipping your wet clothes into a smaller bag before stuffing it into your pack. “Let’s beat that going back.”

“Fine by me.” You stepped past him, bending over and reaching one hand back into the water. He didn’t question you, but you felt his eyes on you as you thumbed through the rocks on the bottom of the pool, finding two - a smooth black stone threaded with silver and one that you were almost positive was jade - and then slipping them into the front zip pocket of your bag.

“Since when are you a rock collector?” Joel finally spoke a few minutes later as the two of you made your way back toward the road. “And what’re you gonna do with ‘em?”

“I’m not. Usually, anyway.” You fell into step side by side, eyes sweeping the land in front of you. “Today’s special.” He hummed in agreement but didn’t press the issue - so you continued. “But you’d be surprised at what you can find in the water around here. Tommy actually found a giant diamond a couple years after he got here while he was out on patrol while they were watering the horses, and couldn’t get back fast enough to give it to Maria.”

Joel laughed, briefly turning his head to look at you. “Sounds like Tommy, alright.”

“They’re all worthless now, and there’s so much damn jewelry in the stores that you can have pretty much whatever you want, but … it’s still fun.” You scanned the horizon, staying on high alert thanks to the adrenaline still rushing through your body. “The kids pan in Flat Creek sometimes, but that’s mostly just rocks. I guess … I don’t know, Joel. I just wanted to remember today.”

He didn’t respond right away, the two of you continuing back toward the horses and the rest stop - but when Joel finally spoke, his tone of voice was matter of fact. “We’ll put ‘em on the shelf in the hallway, with all my carvings? If you want.”

We’ll see them every time we come in or leave. “Yeah, Joel.” You nudged him with your arm, unwilling to take your hands out of your pockets. “Sounds good.”

—

Later that night, the two of you were tucked next to each other on the mattress, a small fire burning a few feet away. He’d blocked both doors from the inside, and the creaky building was almost cozy. Especially with him right there.

He’d made good on his promise as soon as he was satisfied with the evening lockdown and the two of you had eaten. Joel pressed your naked body into the thin bedding, the angle - as he’d said it would be - a good one.

As the flames flickered, you stared up at the ceiling. “Joel?” He hummed from beside you, turning his head. “I think you should go to the dance. Ellie’s going to be there, and even if the two of you don’t talk, you’ll still be able to see her having a good time.” He didn’t say anything right away, and for a few seconds, you thought you’d overstepped. But he should go. He should know. “She actually asked about you the other day.”

“What? Why didn’t you day something?” He rolled to face you, brows knit together. “What did she -” I didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“She asked if you were alright. Said you seem off lately, and that Tommy told her to get her shit together instead of… this.” You reached over, tracing over the scar on his nose. “I told her you were OK and reminded her that I don’t want to be the middleman forever.” Giving him a quick smile, you closed your eyes. “She looked a little guilty, so I dropped it. I wish the two of you were talking, but it’s … it’s not my decision when she -”

“It’s not. It’s hers. Thank you for tellin’ me.” He reached over, pulling you closer. “Even if she’s not talkin’ to me, I’m glad she’s got you.” You were, too. The circle of people that knew her secret - and Joel’s part in keeping it and keeping her alive was limited to five in Jackson. And since she’s not talking to Joel right now, there’s only three people she can trust. “I’m glad she didn’t push you away becausea you an’ me.”

“I wouldn’t have let her.” You wrinkled your nose. “I know she’s stubborn, but … after spending a year on the road with you and living with you for two more, I’d be surprised if she wasn’t.” He laughed at that and the corners of his eyes crinkled as the sound filled the room, warming it up almost more than the fire. “She’s got a limit, though, Joel. And I think she’s getting close. So you should be ready, just in case she -”

“I’ve been ready.” He stopped laughing, taking and holding a deep breath. “Been ready since the day we got back from Salt Lake for the second time, if I’m bein’ honest.” You knew that he was serious, but you also knew how much he loved the girl. And that’s why he’s been so patient about this even though it’s killing him.

Joel didn’t say anything else and neither did you, the sound of crackling logs and quiet whinnying from the horses creating the perfect background noise. You wondered what he was thinking - if his thoughts were about Ellie or Tommy, if they were focused on you, or on the fact that your patrol had been the second one in two months to turn up no sign of anyone, despite the distress calls. Maybe a little bit of everything.

You weren’t taking turns sleeping that night. Joel had deemed it safe enough for both of you to rest at the same time - and so you let yourself doze, your head drooping forward to rest against the broad expanse of his chest. He smelled like the outdoors - the mountain air set deep into the material of his jacket, and that made you even sleepier - but Joel’s voice brought you back to full consciousness, the man sighing out your name.

You opened your eyes so see his face inches from yours on the balled up material you were using as pillows. He looks … nervous. “Yeah, Joel?”

“I haven’t done this in a while, so forgive me if I’m a little rusty, but …” His hand moved from your side up, Joel’s warm fingers trailing over the skin of your throat before he ran his knuckles gently over your cheek, the firelight flickering deep in his eyes. “Can I interest you in bein’ my date to the Spring dance?”

—

tag list coming soon!

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sassenashsworld · 3 days ago

Text

Preston at Quincy

(ah, euh.... eh...)

The List

Hollis seems a lot more nervous since he had that conversation with Clint, and Preston understands why. He now knows that their fate is decided. By dawn, the gunners will return, and if no additional company of minutemen arrives to reinforce theirs, all hope will be lost.

Mayor Jackson knows too. Preston feels it. However, Preston is determined to stick with it.

Don’t giving up.

The citizens of Quincy are counting on them.

But the sun never gets the chance to rise. In the cover of the night, Preston finally hears the first shot of the gunners being fired...

They’re coming.

Everyone, including the citizens, scrambles to their position. Preston and Sturges check the barricade; Sturges looks really grim.

“We won’t hold them off…”

Preston looks at the mechanic but swallows down his anxieties.

“Don't lose faith! As long as we are here to fight, there is hope!”

Sturges looks back at Preston with a frown, but he nods and bites his lips. Hollis comes their way.

“We have to—

The sound of the end of the world interrupts him. A massive blaze illuminates the night, followed shortly by a loud ramble.

“THEY HAVE BLEW OUT THE HIGHWAY SUPPORT! AIM AT THE ROAD! THEY WILL ATTACK FROM HIGH POSITIONS!”

Preston immediately understands the plan.

“They’re flanking us! We need to move our heavy weapons out on the road and aim for those positions on the high ground!”

Hollie turned to his subordinate.

“We don't have any heavy weapons here. Grab the roof of those apartments and bring the guys with you! With the others to the south, I'll attempt to cross the road and secure a prominent position.”

“Yes sir!”

Preston instructs the remaining Minutemen to swiftly follow him. They climb up, go to their positions, and prepare. Preston carefully examines his surroundings for what he can see in the darkness and notices that the Gunners have taken up positions atop ruined buildings and cars.

Closing up on them from everywhere.

An old woman makes it all the way up to their positions and looks around to find Preston. Another Minutemen tries to stop her.

“Madame! We are under attack! Return below, now!”

But the old lady shushes him and walks forth to Preston.

“YoU!” she exclaims, her voice filled with gloom. “SooN YoUR faith and OURS will mingle! Be rEAdy!”

The woman’s appearance surprises Preston. Preston gives her a worried glance. She looks like a witch.

He still nods. “I’m ready, ma’am.”

“BeeEe ReaDY!”

A couple makes its way in turn, seizing the old lady by her arms.

“Mama Murphy,” growls the woman. “Come back! We don't have time for your deliriums!”

“We hAve to bE rEady!” continues the old magpie.

The man seems nervous. “Come back inside. We have to reach the others in the church.”

“WeEee...”

“Shut you hole up, crazy witch!” warns the woman in turn. “I will not let Kyle be killed because you don't want to—

The gunners at the top of the highway suddenly pour a rain of bullets their way. Preston dives to push all those people behind the line of fire.

“Everyone gets down! Now!”

He immediately tries to cover as many people as possible, firing at the gunners' positions from his cover.

Immediately, three of the men under his command follow him, but the line of bullets cuts one in half as he retreats. Preston now realizes that maintaining this position would be suicide. He must lead all the people here under the roof into the apartment and try to find them a shelter.

Preston quickly grabs the arm of the last Minuteman that survived the storm of bullets and pushes him.

“Come on! Into the apartments! We must get into cover!”

They all attempt to follow his instructions, but the younger woman's owls nearly cover them.

“KYLE!”

The man with her and she forgot about the old lady now left to herself, diving into the apartment in the direction of the stairs. Immediately, the others rush into the apartments, while Preston covers their backs to ensure everyone enters safely. But when he turns around, he sees the old woman, still outside and still in danger of the gunners’ fire. He swallows his dry throat… What to do?

Without thinking too much about it, he takes the risk and jumps out of the building, heading straight towards the old woman.

“Get inside! I’ll cover you!”

He grabs the woman’s arm and tries to push her forward. Then he puts himself between the old woman and the gunner’s gunfire, making sure she gets into safety.

At this precise moment, his gaze catches Colonel Hollis's position on the roof across the street. The other Minutemen are nowhere to see, probably all killed, and the colonel is captured just before him. The sigh sent cold chills down Preston's spine. Preston now understands the likelihood of Quincy's demise. He is likely the only hope the survivors now have.

And it's really thin.

But for exactly this moment, he must bring the old lady inside. NOW!

Preston quickly grabs the old woman again and pushes her into the apartments. He closes the door behind them and leans against it, panting for air.

And his eyes meet Mayor John Jackson, who is standing right behind him.

The mayor’s eyes are filled with sadness and desperation after seeing the colonel falls. Preston nods to let the mayor know he saw it too.

“How many survivors are there?” he asks.

“The church was taken. All that's left is here!”

Preston glances at the stairs, where a crowd has assembled. Swiftly, he counted less than thirty. The cries of the wounded are frightening. Preston is aware of their limited chances, but perhaps he could guide them all out of Quincy.

Maybe...

Preston clenches his fists. He looks at the mayor with a firm gaze.

“We need to get everyone out of here. We must leave immediately, or else we will all face certain death.” He turns to the group of survivors. “Listen, we must go now! Everyone who can walk, stand up, now!”

Survivors stand; some try. The couple from earlier came back. The man is sobbing, holding a little boy who is bleeding in his arms. The woman seems ready to bite.

Preston’s heart sinks at the sight. This is a horrible situation.

He tries to keep himself composed so he can guide these people to safety.

“We can’t go out the front. The Gunners probably blocked the path.” He turns to Sturges. “You got another way out of here?”

The man seems tense and worried, and Preston understands very well, but he still manages to focus enough to answer.

“Follow me! There’s another door in the back!”

The mayor helps Preston, and the survivors gather. The strong help the weak, but as they evacuate the apartments, the young Minutemen realize that they are moving very slowly. The still-armed men advance with the line of the remaining Minutemen to form a defence for the most vulnerable following Sturges. The back door is in view. Sturges quickly opens it.

“Through the back! Into the alley!”

Preston swiftly directs the civilians out, ensuring that no one remains behind.

Once the last civilian has exited the building through the back door and into the alley, Preston looks in each direction down the alley. Although it's not an ideal location, Preston finds solace in the alley compared to their previous escape, as he hears the Gunners gaining control of the interior.

He lets out a heavy breath.

“We need to keep moving fast.”

They can already hear the heavy footsteps and chatter of the gunner approaching their way on the other side of the door.

“This way!” calls Sturges as they head down the alley.

Preston can see the city walls and the way that Sturges takes to leave it, but he now knows that even outside the walls they will not have to falter. As he turns to make sure his men—whatever left—hold on, Mayor Jackson moves forward.

“We’ll stay behind to hold them back. The survivors are too slow; you won’t make it if nothing stands in the way of the Gunners!”

“That’s the Minutemen job! Join the survivors!” protests Preston.

“No. Your role now is to protect the survivors and take them where they can find safety. We need you, Preston, to guide them. I can’t do that. You do. Don’t worry. I’d rather fall with my city anyway. I won’t be able to live for long knowing all those who died under my protection.”

The mayor's words resonate deep inside Preston's heart, but Preston knows he is right. He nods at the mayor.

“Understood. Just buy us as much time as you can.”

He turns towards the few remaining survivors, who look at him worried.

“They’ll buy us some time. We need to get out of here fast.”

“But where can we go?” inquires the man holding the child in his arms.

“What do we do now?!” asks another.

Preston takes a quick look at the city wall and the open wasteland behind it. He turns to the survivors who are looking at him.

“We keep going! We head towards the north, and we don’t stop until we’re out of danger!”

Some of the survivors still look afraid and worried.

“But how far will we be safe?”

“I... I don’t know.” Preston can’t offer them any more reassuring answers, but he does his best to keep them calm. “As far as needed! We can’t worry about that now. All we can do is keep moving and keep on being vigilant. There’s some chance of us surviving, and we have to take it without losing time. Now come on!”

Preston begins leading the small group out of the city walls and into the open.

He briefly turns his gaze back to Quincy as the sounds of gunfire and fighting reverberate from behind the city walls.

The night seems to be at its darkest; it seems far away the moment when the sun will rise, and Preston feels an overwhelming despair rising in him.

There, in this alarming darkness, before his eyes that cannot see them, now rest all that remained of valiant Minutemen, having made his childhood dreams bloom.

All dead...

He sighs and turns his back on this part of his life, along with all the other survivors of Quincy.

But he must hold. He knows that.

He must continue leading the group forward, north into the wasteland.

#noskipnovember #no skip november #fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #preston #preston garvey #fo4 companions

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dameronology · 2 years ago

Text

timing's a bitch [5/5] - s.h

summer '87

“oh my love, i lied to you, but i never needed to" - liar, paramore (x)

“if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing…timing. but timing is a bitch” - how i met your mother

a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

a/n: i am sooooo sorry for how long this took. i have a long list of excuses but i shall not bore you. we have, however, finally made it to the end and i owe you all the biggest fucking thank you in the world for all your support on this series. i love u all and i hope this is the ending u wanted <3

Twelve months was the longest period of time you’d gone without seeing Steve Harrington.

You’d seen him basically every day for your entire goddamn life and then he’d just…disappeared. Left the arcade in a cloud of shame and then you hadn’t seen him since. He was fine; you knew that much. A quick call to his parents had let you know that he was with them in Florida. Fuck knows why, because as far as you’d known he had hated his parents almost as much as he hated Florida. But, as it had turned out, knowing didn’t account for much. You thought you knew Harrington’s every move, but everything in the last year had completely blindsided you. Even if it was just an anomaly, it was enough to make you question everything. It had hurt more than you cared to admit – the sudden revelation, the disappearance, the lack of contact – but the realisation that he’d admitted to loving you had carried you for just a little while.

Only a little while. Three months at the most. After that, you lost hope and moved on.

Did it feel like part of you was missing? Completely. Was there anything you could do about it? Absolutely not.

Steve’s name became something of a curse word amongst your friendship circle. Friendship triangle, actually. The combination of Eddie and Robin had been the only thing carrying you through. Hawkins had changed as you knew it, because as it turns out, you and Steve had shared a pair of rose-coloured lenses. The town sucked without them and man you hoped Florida was even worse for him. Maybe one of the crocodiles or swamps would swallow him up. At least that way you could get closure.

It was hard not to think about him; to think about whether or not he’d started dating again, about how much he was probably suffocating under the same roof as his parents. The part of you that had been hurt by him wanted so badly for him to be aching too – for you, for the familiar, for the realisation that Tampa Bay might have been great, but no place was truly great without you – but the rest of you just pined. For him, for his dumb sarcasm and ridiculous ability to be so smart about everything, for his shitty driving and that stupid cologne and the cursed BMW that you were afraid to shine a UV light in for fear of a live Jackson Pollock experience.

You missed him.

Eddie and Robin were good company. Every time you were sad, you would find yourself with them at the Hideout, laughing about something stupid and then revelling in the realisation that you were going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. You had your friends.

“So…I like her, but I don’t like like her, you know?” Eddie’s aimless ramblings filled your ears one cold Wednesday night. Class had been long, but not as long as this conversation. Was he even going the right way home? You’d no clue.

“So, break up with her then, Eds,” you replied, unable to resist an eyeroll. “It’s obvious.”

“But she’s so hot!”

“And?!” you shot back. “You can’t just hold out for someone because they’re hot.”

“Right. If you did, you’d be in a Florida swamp by now.”

You shot Eddie a glare. “Watch it.”

“I regretted it as soon as I said it,” he grimaced. “Sorry. I really am.”

Eddie reached across and squeezed your arm, giving you a smile. He was far too easy to forgive.

As it turned out, he had been going the right way, because your apartment building had finally made an appearance in the distance. One of the better developments in your life in the past year had been that you, Robin and Eddie found a place together. It was a complete shithole, and you were pretty sure your neighbour was a pervert, but it was yours. More yours than your place in New York had been.

Hopping out the van, you shut the door behind you and fumbled around for your keys. Eddie wasn’t far behind, just taking a moment to assess the damage the pavement had done to his wheel when he’d collided it with at the morning. Something about the government shouldn’t have put a pavement there and I don’t pay taxes for this shithole to destroy my van.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and was immediately greeted by Robin. She was in attack mode, elbowing her way past you and towards Eddie.

“Munson!” she yelled. “How many times have I told you not to smoke week inside? I’m trying to study for my finals but all I can smell is your skanky goddamn stoner broccoli- “

“- woah, woah, woah!” Eddie held his hands up in defence. “Before you rip my head off, don’t you want to have that conversation with our beloved roommate first?”

You glanced at them, thinning your eyes. “The hell are you talking about?”

“Uh…” Robin trailed off. “We should go inside for this.”

“Or you could just tell me here?” you suggested.

Despite your advice, your friends both took an arm each and lead you inside to the sofa, where they laid you down. Robin did have a point about the smell in here.

“You should sit down for this,” Eddie began.

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m lying down?”

“Oh…” he trailed off. “Then you might want to sit up for this.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat up and swung your legs round so they were on the floor. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Robin gulped. “Steve called.”

“Here?” your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah. Six times, actually,” she continued.

“What?!” you exclaimed. “When?”

Eddie and Robin glanced at each other.

“Guys,” you pushed. “When?”

“Three months ago. And also, nine months ago, and also ten months ago, and he also tried calling my house the week he left and…” Eddie trailed off. “Why do you look so angry?”

“Why the fuck are you only telling me this now?!”

“We thought it was best you didn’t know!” Robin chimed in. “He just made you so miserable and-

“- that’s not your decision to make!” you snapped.

“No, you’re right…. we know that. Now. We know that now,” Eddie said. “We just thought it was worth telling you because rumour has it, he’s back in town.”

“Rumour has it from who?”

“My eyes,” Robin admitted. “I saw him yesterday at the coffee shop down the road. I think he was looking for you.”

It wasn’t in your nature to dramatically storm off. It was even less in your nature to steal Eddie Munson’s keys and aimlessly speed off into the night, but you probably earnt the right to do after learning that your best friends had been lying to you. Betrayal from Steve had sucked, but even more so from them. What sucked even more was the realisation that he hadn’t been ignoring you for a year. That was a lot to deal with.

You found yourself driving to Lover’s Lake. It had been an unconscious decision – less conscious that the one to fuck up Eddie’s tyres even more on the way over – but it was weirdly peaceful once you got there. Freaky alien portals aside, it was a pretty relaxing place when it was empty at night. The water was completely dark, lit up only by the moon and stars, where you could be alone with your thoughts and-

“I have a gun!”

The words from your mouth had been quick – and a lie – when you heard someone step on a twig behind you. It wasn’t the worse lie in the world. You could have had a gun in your pockets. Maybe. How big were guns anyway? You didn’t know.

“If you come a step closer I will fucking END you-“

“- you don’t carry a gun.”

There was only one person in the world who could be truly certain of that decision. Steve fucking Harrington.

A beat passed and before he could say anything else, you’d thrown yourself at him. You both fell to the ground – Steve breaking your fall with his body and letting out an ow – and for a split second, you weren’t sure you were decking him or fighting him. The decision came to you naturally, it turned out, because when he tried to sit up, you tackled him back into the ground with a hug. Steve sat there aimlessly for a second, but quickly wrapped his gangly arms back around you.

“Fuck,” you murmured. “What the fuck, Steve?!”

“Couldn’t I be asking you the same thing?!” he demanded. “You’ve been ignoring my calls for a year!”

You took a step back from the hug, glowering for a moment. “I haven’t. I promise.”

“Well you haven’t been answering them-“

“- it was Eddie and Robin!” you cut him off. “We moved in together…it’s too fucking long to explain, but they are meddlers. They are meddling meddlers. I’ve spent the last year waiting for you to call Steve and for fuck’s sake, man! It’s me. If you are genuinely stupid enough to think that I would willingly ignore your calls then you don’t know me at all!”

Steve was silent for a second. That was a lot of information to process. It was good information – encouraging, indeed - but it also meant he had to change his entire worldview that he’d spent the last year adjusting to. Not unlike you had in the last hour.

“Besides…” you carried on. Yeah, it was all coming out now. “You’re the one who accidentally confessed your love for me. You’re the one who ran away! So even if I had been ignoring your calls, who’s to say it wasn’t justified?”

“No, yeah…you’re right,” Steve murmured. “I’m sorry. I really am. I know that doesn’t cut it at all. It doesn’t even begin to make it right but if you would just give me the chance, I promise I will make it up to you.”

“A chance?” you raised your eyebrows. “What kind of chance?”

“The same kind of chance I asked for the night you left for college almost two years ago,” he said. “The chance that’s been fucked over and over because of bad timing-”

“- have you ever considered that maybe you were the one who was about twelve hours behind everyone else?”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you were twelve hours ahead?”

You smiled. “Get to the point, Steve.”

“I love you,” Steve declared. He flung his arms out at as he did, almost as though he were announcing it to the dark clouds above you. “I’m sorry for running away, but in doing it, I realised there’s only one place I want to run and that’s to wherever you are. Even if it’s almost midnight, by a lake, on a freezing cold night.”

“How did you even know I was here?” you asked.

“You have three places you go when you’re not home and that’s here, my house or the record shop and – look, I don’t want to rush you, but it would be really wonderful if we could circle back to where you stand vis-à-vis that love declaration-”

“- fucking obviously I love you too,” you cut him off.

Steve smiled. There was no doubt in his mind that you were still seething but finally, after two years of swings-and-roundabouts, you’d finally said the same thing at the same time. It had been a two year long head-ache – one you still felt dizzy from – but hey. You’d finally caught each other at the same moment. And god forbid you’d ever let him go.

“But this has to be it now, Steve,” you poked him in the chest. “No one-night stands, no other people, no bullshit. I can’t take bullshit.”

“This is it,” he said affirmatively. “I promise. I’m not ever letting you out of my sight again.”

“You promise?”

Steve grabbed your hand, pulling your pinky out of your balled up fist and wrapping it around his. “You have my word.”

Finally, he kissed you.

You’d kissed multiple times before; that fateful night two years ago, the even more fateful one in New York, and the time it almost happened in the lake just two miles from where you were stood. All of those things had taken you a step closer to this but the moment in itself felt like a weight off your shoulders. Almost like it was something that had been written in the stars since the first day you’d thrown a Lego brick at him, and both of you had been holding your breath waiting for you to happen ever since.

“I’m gonna kill Robin and Eddie, by the way,” you quietly said.

“Don’t,” Steve murmured against you. “I only just got you back. I can’t have you going to prison.”

"Yeah, fair point," you laughed. "Besides, if I can forgive you, I can forgive them."

"Hey!"

"Sorry..." you trailed off. "I love you."

Steve smiled. "I love you too."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson

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nickeverdeen · 2 months ago

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Hi 😊 Can I get a matchup with a guy from ATLA, TUA, Percy Jackson series and the MCU please?

I'm curvy girl with long brown wavy hair and chocolate brown eyes.

I'm compassionate, funny, loyal, homey, thoughtful, kind-hearted.

I'm bilingual, an ambivert, INFP and Gryffindor. I have a curious mind, and I'm always up for an adventure.

I'm very protective of my loved ones. Also I can be stubborn and insecure.

I like reading, listening to music, exploring new places, stargazing, daydreaming, watching movies, walking in the forest, writing, taking pictures, the smell of the rain and Christmas is my favourite time of the year! ✨

Thank you so much!! 💛

Avatar: The Last Airbender match is…

Sokka

Sokka deeply admires how protective you are of your loved ones

He finds it endearing and feels that you two share this trait, making you an unstoppable team when it comes to defending those you care about

Your curiosity and love for exploring new places mesh perfectly with Sokka's adventurous spirit

Sokka gets a kick out of your love for Christmas, even though it's a foreign concept to him

He goes all out trying to recreate your favorite holiday traditions, and although his efforts are often comically over-the-top, he’s always proud of the smile they bring to your face

Stargazing becomes one of your favorite shared activities

Sokka often points out constellations and tells you stories about them, some real and some wildly exaggerated

Sokka loves that you’re funny and can match his wit

Sokka enjoys taking long walks with you in the forest, where he can show off his tracking skills, and you can just enjoy each other's company in peaceful surroundings

Sokka often asks you to share your writing with him

He loves listening to the stories you create, even suggesting crazy plot twists or humorous lines to add

Whenever you feel insecure, Sokka is right there to remind you of your worth

Sokka is fascinated by your ability to speak more than one language

He’ll ask you to teach him words and phrases, eager to impress you with his attempts, even if he sometimes butchers the pronunciation

Your loyalty is something Sokka holds in the highest regard

Your The Umbrella Academy match is…

Klaus Hargreeves

Klaus is surprisingly drawn to the cozy, homey atmosphere you create

He finds comfort in the little things you do, like baking cookies or lighting scented candles, which help calm his often chaotic mind

Klaus loves lying on the roof with you at night, watching the stars

Klaus loves how you can get lost in daydreams

He often teases you about where your mind wanders but secretly loves that you can escape into your imagination

Klaus may have a complicated relationship with the holidays, but your infectious joy for Christmas starts to rub off on him

Your curious nature inspires Klaus to explore things he usually wouldn’t

You often drag him along on your adventures, and though he pretends to be reluctant, he loves every minute of it

Klaus loves that you have a passion for music

The two of you spend countless hours listening to records and discovering new bands together. He’s always dancing with you, pulling you into spontaneous moments of joy

Klaus is one of your biggest fans when it comes to your writing

He loves reading your work, often asking if you’ve written anything new, and he’s always genuinely interested in what you create

Klaus is fascinated by your love for taking pictures

He loves posing for you, often striking ridiculous poses or trying to look mysterious

Your photoshoots are always filled with laughter

Klaus knows what it’s like to feel insecure, and he’s incredibly gentle and understanding when you feel that way

Klaus is drawn to your loyalty

Despite his own flaws, he’s fiercely protective of those he cares about, and your steadfast loyalty makes him feel safe and loved in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time

Your Percy Jackson Series match is…

Percy Jackson

Percy loves your adventurous spirit

Whether it’s exploring new places, going on a spontaneous road trip, or just discovering a new part of the city, he’s always ready for the next adventure with you

Percy admires how protective you are of your loved ones

It’s a trait you both share, and he feels comforted knowing that you’ve got his back, just as he has yours

Your love for the smell of rain fits perfectly with Percy’s affinity for water

He often takes you to the beach, where you can enjoy the scent of the ocean and the rain together, feeling completely at peace

Percy loves stargazing with you, especially by the water

The two of you often sit on the shore, talking about the constellations, with Percy sharing myths and stories about the stars that you find endlessly fascinating

Percy adores how much you love Christmas

He makes it his mission to ensure your holiday season is magical, from decorating the tree together to surprise snowball fights

Percy finds your curious mind endearing

You ask him questions about everything, from Greek mythology to his latest quest, and he loves how you always listen

Percy enjoys listening to music with you, especially after a long day

Percy is always there to lift you up when you’re feeling insecure

Percy loves taking walks with you in the forest, where you can both enjoy the peace and quiet of nature

Percy deeply values your loyalty

It’s something that resonates with him, and it strengthens the bond between you

He knows he can trust you completely, and that trust is the foundation of your relationship

Your MCU match is…

Peter Parker 1

Peter loves how curious you are

He’s always excited to share his latest tech projects or science experiments with you, and your genuine interest in what he does makes him feel incredibly connected to you

Peter often takes you up to the rooftops of New York City for late-night stargazing sessions

Peter is over the moon about your love for Christmas

He goes all out with the decorations, planning surprises, and even using his web-shooters to help hang up lights in the most impossible places

Peter admires your love for photography

Peter feels comforted knowing that you’re just as protective of him as he is of you

Even though he’s the superhero, your concern for his well-being means the world to him

Peter loves to dance with you, whether it’s slow dancing in the living room or just goofing off to your favorite songs

He’s not the best dancer, but he loves how it makes you laugh

Peter is always there to remind you of how amazing you are whenever you’re feeling insecure

Peter loves going on spontaneous adventures with you

Whether it’s discovering a new part of the city or trying out a new restaurant, he’s always up for exploring the world with you

Peter adores the warm, cozy atmosphere you create at home

After a long day of being Spider-Man, he loves nothing more than coming home to you and unwinding in your comforting presence

Peter’s trust in you is unwavering

He knows that no matter what happens, you’ll always be there for him, just as he’ll always be there for you

Your loyalty is something he treasures deeply, making him fall in love with you even more every day

#request #matchups #avatar the last airbender #the umbrella academy #percy jackson show #mcu #marvel #sokka x reader #sokka #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #mcu peter parker #peter parker x reader

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anarchosimdicalist · 4 months ago

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Jenny Lau for @rainymoodlet's Rock of Love BC

Name: Jenny Lau Age: 40 (adult) Gender: Trans woman Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Bisexual Career: Freelance Photographer Likes: Gardening, any music with shouting in it, getting into extensive debates about things she cares about, weird little trinkets, woodwork, lentils, her bicycle (named Laura). Dislikes: Formalities, most technology except cameras, people who value their career over anything else, oil companies, pessimism, overly sweet food, holiday music, cops. Traits: Hot-headed, Maker, Green Fiend.

Background:

The music scene in Jackson Roth's hometown was small but lively. In the early days of Iron Revival they shared the same few dingy pub venues with the same few groups of young people with big dreams, weighed down by second- or third-hand instruments. One such group was a gloriously shitty hardcore punk band by the name of Tooth Decay, their lead guitarist a withdrawn, angry kid who, at the time, didn't have that much of an opinion on Iron Revival one way or the other, but was a staple at their shows if only for the atmosphere and cheap booze.

But while Iron Revival shot right out of their home town and into successful music careers, Tooth Decay... well, decayed. Their bassist moved towns, and the more the remaining members tried to paper over the hole left behind, the more they descended into petty fighting instead. After one fateful band practice ended in the three of them physically brawling, they all agreed to go their separate ways. The backup guitarist found a different band, the drummer called it all quits and got a full-time job instead, and the lead guitarist was left aimless.

But time went by, and the sad teenage boy who used to play lead guitar for Tooth Decay grew up, found community, and eventually became a much happier adult woman. Jenny moved around a lot, from city to city, punk scene to punk scene, civil disobedience to civil disobedience. She started and ended a few other bands, but became content to watch the next generation of punks take over - though she kept writing songs in her own time. Iron Revival's success where Tooth Decay had spectacularly failed bothered Jenny for all of five minutes, but getting to brag that they once shared what could loosely be referred to as a “green room” back in the day made it worth it. On hearing about Jackson's new show, she thought it would be funny more than anything. Certainly, she doesn't expect him to recognise her - a lot has changed in the last 20 years or so, after all.

Nowadays, Jenny lives a patched-together, eclectic life in Moonwood Mill. She grows most of her own food and does a little freelance photography just to get by. She spends more time outside than in and likes collecting things, her little trailer less of a home and more of a museum of random shit she's found or made. She knows at least a handful of punks in every city from here to Evergreen Harbour and a good few besides, so whether you need a lock picking, a roof fixing, or some help with your house plants, chances are she knows a guy. She's not one to be fucked with, but she's generally a chill person if you don't get on her bad side.

Fun Facts:

Has been arrested at least a few times, all for various acts of protest.

Good with children. Wants kids of her own but so far it's never really happened.

Besides guitar, she can sing very well. Tooth Decay had no lead singer, but the four of them all taking turns.

Horrendous with any other kind of technology, but could tell you a lot about bike repair or extremely specific camera models from the 60s.

Pretty good cook but can't follow a recipe to save her life.

#rockoflovebc #really living up to my url with this one huh #i don't see her being a fashion photographer specifically but that's what you're getting in this game ig. she's more of a photojournalist.#sims 4

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poseidonsdaughterthesiren · 9 months ago

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The Daughter of Poseidon: Chapter Seven

Waves swooshed back and forth. Seagulls sang in the distance.

Della opens her eyes to see an island. Not just any island, Circe’s Island. She hasn’t been here…since she was thirteen.

Three figures stand off in the distance. Young Della, Percy, and Annabeth.

Della moves closer to them.

“Well, I suppose…” Past Annabeth and Della said.

“Right this way dears!” Hylla said. She leads them away from Percy.

Della follows them.

It skipped forward a bit to young Della in a chair.

Annabeth seated behind her. Her hair combed into an old Greecian hairstyle. She looked like Helen of Troy. Her curly brown hair was wrapped in gold with a few stray curls framing her face.

Young Della wore a light blue lagoon gown and two gold armbands. Two girls combed and braided her wavy blonde hair.

“Ah..there we go,” Hylla said. “A look just as perfect as a goddess. Are you sure you’re a daughter of Poseidon? I think Aphrodite would envy your beauty if she doesn’t already.”

Time sped up again.

This time Young Della and Annabeth stood in a room facing a cage of guinea pigs. They tried to figure out which one was Percy.

“Well,” Circe sighed, “How fast a minute passes. Have you made your decision yet?”

“This!” Annabeth held out her dagger.

Della pointed Leda at her.

Circe stepped back, but the surprise passed quickly.

“Really girls, a knife and a blade against my magic?”

The scene paused.

Circe angles her head towards me. “Ah, look at you, my dear! Just as beautiful as the day you fled my island.”

Della glances uncertainly at Circe. “What do–”

“Oh, I want nothing from you dear. You are Hera’s gamble now.”

“Gamble–”

“Yes, how I wished you and the Athena girl stayed. Would have made beautiful sorceresses indeed. But your fate is set in stone.” The sorceress places something in Della’s hand.

Della opened her hand to see a very old Greek coin with Poseidon on it. Circe had fashioned it into a necklace.

“We don’t have much time,” Circe mumbles, “Remember Adella Jackson you are a daughter of Poseidon, much different than Perseus. You are not his shadow young one. I have seen your future…you are more powerful than you know. Now Wake up!”

⬳

Della wakes up to Jason shaking her. She opens her hand to find Circe’s necklace. She quickly fastens it around her neck.

Below them, a city sat on a clifftop overlooking a river. The plains around it were dusted with snow, but the city itself glowed warmly in the winter sunset. Buildings crowded together inside high walls like medieval town. In the center was an actual castle, with massive red brick walls and a square tower with a peaked green roof.

“Tell me that’s Quebec and not Santa’s workshop,” Leo says.

“Yeah Quebec City,” Piper confirms. “One of the oldest cities in North America. Founded around sixteen hundred or so.”

Leo raises an eyebrow, “Your dad do a movie on that too?”

She makes a sour face at him. “I read sometimes, okay? Just cause Aphrodite claimed me doesn’t mean I’m a complete airhead!”

“Feisty,” Leo laughs. “So if you know so much, what’s that castle?”

“A hotel, I think.”

“No way,” Leo laughs.

The closer they got Della notices doormen, vallets, and porters taking bags. Sleek luxury cars idle in the drive. People in elegant suits and winter cloaks hurry to get out of the cold.

“The North Wind is staying at a hotel?” Leo asks, “That can’t be–”

“Heads up guys we got company!” Jason interrupts.

Down below two winged figures–angry angels, with nasty-looking swords launch themselves from the top of the tower.

Festus does not like the looks of the angel guys. He swoops to a halt in midair, wings beating and talons bared, and he makes a rumbling noise in his throat.

“Steady, boy,” Leo says.

“I don’t like this they look like storm spirits,” says Jason.

“Ummm,” Della says, “They look too solid to be storm spirits.”

They look like regular teenagers, except for their icy white hair and purple wings. Their bronze swords appear like jagged icicles. The two could pass for brothers, they were similar enough, but there was no way they were twins.

One was the size of an ox, with a bright red hockey jersey, baggy sweatpants, and black cleats. This guy is definitely a fighter both his eyes were black as though he’d just been in a fight. It didn’t help when he bared his teeth some of them were missing.

The other one looks like an eighties rock album cover. His white hair styled into a curly mullet. He wore pointy-toed shoes, designer pants, and a gods-awful silk shirt with three buttons open.

The angels pull up and hover in front of the dragon.

“No clearance,” grunts the hockey ox.

“Scuse me?” asks Leo.

“You have no flight plan on file,” explains the groovy love god. His French accent is horrible it has to be fake. “This is restricted airspace.”

Festus begins to hiss steam, ready to defend the demigods. Jason flips his coin to reveal his sword. Della taps Leda’s beak twice to reveal a spear.

“Hold on!” Leo cries. He spreads his arms out. “Let’s have some manners here. Can I at least find out who has the honor of destroying me?”

“I am Cal!” the ox grunts. He has a look of pride like he’d said his lines correctly.

“That’s short for Calais,” the love god sighs, “Sadly, my brother cannot say words more than two syllables–”

“Pizza! Hockey! Destroy!” Cal offers.

“–which includes his own name.”

“I am Cal,” Cal repeats, “And this is Zethes! My Brother!”

“Wow,” Leo says, “That was almost three sentences! Way to go my man!” Cal grunts obviously pleased with himself.

“Stuupid Buffon,” Zethes grumbles, “They make fun of you. But no matter. I am Zethes, which is short for Zethes. And the ladies there–”

He winks but it appears more like a facial seizure.

“They can call me anything they like. Perhaps they would like to have dinner with a famous demigod before we destroy you?”

Piper makes a sound like gagging on a cough drop, “That’s truly…a horrifying offer.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Della coughs.

“It is no problem,” Zethes wiggles his eyebrows, “We are very romantic people, we Boreads.”

“Boreads?” Jason cuts in, “Like the sons of Boreas?”

“Ah! So, you have heard of us!” Zethes smiles. “We are our father’s gatekeepers. So, you understand we cannot have unauthorized people flying in his airspace on creaky dragons, scaring the silly mortal people.”

Della glances down to see mortals pointing up at them. Though they weren’t scared, no, they seemed annoyed, like the dragon was a traffic helicopter flying too low.

“Which is sadly why, unless this is an emergency landing,” Zethes says, brushing his hair out of his acne-covered face, “We will have to destroy you painfully.”

“Destroy!” Cal agrees way too enthused by the idea.

Della clutches Leda a little more.

“Wait!” Piper says, “This is an emergency landing.”

“Awww,” Cal says.

Zethes studies Piper, which he already had been doing. “How does the pretty girl decide this is an emergency then?”

“We have to see Boreas. It’s totally urgent! Please?” She puts a smile on her beautiful face. Her voice sounds smooth and rich like chocolate. Damn, Aphrodite kids. Piper nudges Della to follow her example.

Della lowers Leda just a bit and smiles just a bit.

Zethes picks at his shirt, probably to make sure it is opened wide enough. “Hate to disappoint ladies, but you see, my sister would totally have an avalanche if we allowed you–”

“Our dragon is malfunctioning!” Piper says, “It could crash at any minute!”

Festus shudders trying to help. Then turned to spill gunk out of his ear, splattering on a black Mercedes down below.

“No, destroy?” Cal whimpers.

Zethes ponders this for a moment then glances up at Della and Piper. He winks again. “Well, you are both very pretty. I mean–you’re right. A malfunctioning dragon, this could qualify as an emergency.”

“Destroy them later?” Cal offers.

“It will take some explaining,” Zethes says, “Father has not been kind to visitors lately. But, yes. Come, follow us, faulty dragon people. Follow us.”

Leo turns to the rest of his party, “I love these guys! Follow them?”

Della, Jason, and Piper exchange looks of dread.

“I guess,” Jason decides, “We’re here now. But I wonder why Boreas hasn’t been kind ot visitors.”

Della taps Ledas beak. “You’ll find that’s a recurring theme on quests.”

“Pfft, he just hasn’t met us yet. Festus follow those flashlights,” Leo says.

Leo manuvers Festus to follow the Boreads. After a few close turns, they descend after them into the tower through a hatch wide enough for Festus. The top and bottom were lined with icicles that resembled jagged teeth.

“That can’t be good,” Jason mutters.

The land in what must be the penthouse suite. The penthouse suite frozen in ice. The entry hall’s vaulted ceiling was forty feet high. Huge draped windows and lush orientals lined the room. A staircase at the back of the room leads to another massive hall, and multiple corridors venture left and right. The ice made it feel just a tad frightening.

“Guys,” Leo says, “Fix the thermostat in here, and I would totally move in.”

“Somethings–” Della starts.

“...Wrong,” says Jason, “Something up there.”

Festus shudders and snorts flames. Frost begins forming on his scales.

“No. No. No. We can’t have flames in here!” Zethes says. He marches over to them. “The Dragon must be deactivated. We cannot have heat in here. I truins my hair.”

“Like that’ll make a difference,” Della whispers to Piper.

She stifles a giggle in her hand.

Festus growls and spins his teeth.

“S’okay boy,” Leo says, “The dragon’s a little touchy about being deactivated. But I’ve got a better solution.”

“Destroy?” Cal asks.

“No man. You gotta stop with the destroy talk. Just wait–”

“Leo,” Della says nervously, “What’re you–”

“Relax, Katara,” Leo says, “When I was repairing Festus last night, I found all sorts of buttons. Some, you do not want to know what they do. But other…ah, here we go.”

Leo hooks his fingers behind the dragon’s left foreleg. He pulls a switch, and the dragon shudders from head to toe. Everyone backs away as Festus folds like origami. His bronze plating stacks together. His tail and neck contract into his body. His wings collapse and his trunk compacts until he is the size of a suitcase.

“Ta-da! The world’s heaviest carry-on bag!” Leo says.

“That’s impossible something that big–” Jason says.

“Enough! Zethes says. He and Cal drew their swords and pointed them at Leo.

Della reaches for Leda and taps her beak unleashing the sword.

Leo raises his hand in surrender. “Okay…what’d I do? Stay calm, guys. If it bothers you that much, I don’t have to take the dragon as a carry-on–”

“Who are you?” Zethes points the tip of his blade at Leo’s chest. “A child of the South Wind spying on us?”

“What? No! I’m a son of Hephaestus, a friendly blacksmith, no harm to anyone!”

Cal growls. He puts his face up to Leo’s. “Smell fire. Fire bad.”

“Oh,” Leo says. The poor boy has sweat dripping down his forehead. “Yeah well…my clothes are singed, I’ve been working with oil, and–”

“No!” Zethes pushes Leo back at sword point. “We can smell fire, demigod. We assumed it was from the creaky dragon, but now the dragon is a suitcase. And I smell fire…on you.”

Della glances at Leo who looks ready to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West.

“Look…I don’t know…” He glances at the rest of the group. “Guys, little help?”

Jason already had his gold coin in hand. He glances at Della who holds her sword in hand. Jason moves forward, eyes on Zethes.

“Look there’s been a mistake. Leo isn‘t a fire guy. Tell them, Leo. Tell them you’re not a fire guy.”

“Ummm…”

“Zehtes?” Piper tries her dazzling smile again. However, she looks too nervous to pull it off. “We’re all friends here. Put down your swords and let’s talk.”

“This girl is pretty,” Zethes admits, “and of course, she cannot help being attracted to my amazingness. Sadly, I cannot romance her at this time.” He pokes his sword into Leo’s chest and frost begins to spread across his shirt.

“Destroy him now?” Cal asks.

“Sadly, I think–”

“No,” Jason insists. He sounds calm, but Della knew this tone. It’s a tone she’s heard Percy, Annabeth, and even herself use. A tone that means ‘one wrong move and I will destroy you.’

“Leo is not a threat. He is a son of Hephaestus. Piper here is a daughter of Aphrodite. Della’s the daughter of Poseidon. And I’m a son of Zeus. We are here on a peaceful–”

“What did you say?” Zethes demands. You’re a son of Zeus?”

Della points Leda at Zethes. “What about it.”

“Ummm…yeah, that’s a good thing, right? My name is Jason.” Jason holds an arm out to keep Della from advancing on the pair of idiots.

Cal appears so startled he almost drops his sword. “Can’t be Jason,” he says. “Doesn’t look the same.”

Zethes steps forward and examines Jason’s face. “No, he is not our Jason. Our Jason was more stylish. Not as much as me–but stylish. Besides, our Jason died a milienna ago.”

“Wait,” Jason says. “Your Jason…you mean the original Jason? The Golden Fleece guy?”

“Of course,” says Zethes. “We were his crewmates abroad the Argo, in the old times when were mortal demigods. The we accepted immortality to serve our father, so I could look goo for all eternity, and my brother could enjoy pizza and hockey.”

“Hockey!” Cal agrees.

“But Jason, our Jason–he died a mortal death,” Zethes says, “You can’t be him.”

“I’m not,” Jason confirms.

“So, destroy?” Cal asks.

Della steps next to Jason her sword at the ready.

Jason gives her a look of not yet.

“No,” Zethes sighs. “If he is a son of Zeus, he could be the one we’ve been watching for.”

“Watching for?” Leo asks. “You mean like in a good way like you’ll shower him with fabulous prizes? Or watching for in a bad way like he’s in trouble?”

“That depends on my father’s will,” says a feminine voice.

Della glances up the stairs to see a girl about her age in a long silk gown. The girl is so pale she resembles snow. Her hair was a lush mane of black, and her eyes were coffee brown. The girl focuses on Leo analyzing him. The air she gave was cold and it wasn’t just because of the apartment’s frigid temperatures.

“Father will want to see the one called Jason,” she says.

“Then it is him?” Zethes says.

Leo grabs the handle of Festus the suitcase. Before he can make it two steps, the girl freezes him in his steps. Not with ice but with the intensity of her gaze.

“Not you Leo Valdez.”

“Why not?” Leo whines like he actually whines.

“You cannot be in the presence of my father. Fire and ice it would not be wise.”

“We’re going together,” Jason says. He places his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Or not at all.”

Della gives Jason a look. This wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was the best offer they would get. “Don’t test our luck Wonder Boy.”

“Listen to your friend, he will not be harmed Jason Grace, unless you make trouble. Calais, keep Leo Valdez here, Guard him, but do not kill him.”

“Just a little?” Cal pouts.

“No,” the girl says, “And take care of that interesting suitcase until Father passes judgment.”

Jason and Piper look at Leo asking the silent question: How do you want to play this?

“It’s fine guys,” Leo says, “Della’s right, this is the best way not to cause trouble. Go ahead.”

Della taps Leda’s beak returning the sword to pendant form. She pats Leo on the shoulder. “Be careful, don’t let him push you around,” she whispers.

“Leo Valdez will be safe. I wish I could say the same about you, Jason Grace. Now come, King Boreas is waiting.”

#oc character #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy and annabeth #percyjacksonxsister!reader #fanfic #jason grace x jackson!reader #jason grace x reader

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borhapparker · 1 year ago

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💋 - love letter for Joel with the prompt of meet cute gone wrong. Hopefully takes place in Jackson. Thank you and congratulations!

this is so cute! let's do it! i've never done a meet cute gone wrong so we'll see if y'all like this! thank u! (this is also my first joel fic ever so pls go easy on me!)

borhapparker's 1k follower celebration!

Jackson had been your refuge since the first time you encountered Maria and Tommy while searching for a safe place to spend the night. While they hadn't meant to pop in and disturb you, they were glad to find someone else they could invite into their newfound land.

While reluctant at first, there had been a lot of trust to gain, and Maria was a little harder to crack than Tommy. After weeks of working hard and observing their leadership in Jackson, you managed to prove to her your loyalty and trust, breaking that outer exterior she built around her, as you considered her family.

They knew you inside and out, sometimes making you feel like they knew you better than you knew yourself. But this wasn't always the case, and it somehow made you concerned when they forgot you never wanted to share a home with other people. Especially people that popped into your home with no warning.

While making repairs one day to your home, the one Tommy and Maria had let you choose for yourself, the front door had creaked open. Freezing, a chill crept up your spine, as you placed your tools down, before slowly heading to the door.

"Woah, Joel, this house is huge!" a girl's voice exclaimed as her voice bounced off the walls.

"It is a nice house, I guess."

There's two of them?

Placing your back to the wall, you hid from plain sight, wanting to hear them before they see you.

"Do I finally get a room to myself?" she asked as you heard the other person sigh.

"Yeah you can, Ellie." you heard them place their things down before the person sighed again. "S nice, gonna take some getting used to."

You slowly rounded the corner, a hammer in your hand from the box of tools you had at your feet. Just a precaution.

Quickly heading to the living room, where the voices were now located, you reached the unknown person, grabbing them in a slight chokehold with the hammer held next to their temple.

"Don't move." you threatened, as the person stiffened, before the girl, who you could now place a face to, pulled out her knife.

"Let him go," she threatened, as you smirked, "Or.."

"Or what? I have the upper hand here."

"Ellie, listen to her, drop the knife."

The girl relunctantly listened, dropping the knife on the ground and putting her hands up.

"Now, who are you guys and how did you get in my house?"

Ellie, the girl in front of you, tilted her head, both confused and angry.

"This is our house, what are you doing with a hammer?"

You sighed, "Fixing my house. If you guys didn't tell, it's inhabited already. So move on."

Pushing the man out of the chokehold, he stood next to Ellie, both of them now as confused as you were, none of the information they gave making sense.

"Who led you to this place?" you asked, lowering the hammer as they put their arms down.

"Tommy did, he said we could live here."

You shouted angrily, swinging the hammer as it stuck into the wall, before you stormed out, noticing Tommy across the way in his yard. "Tommy! Get the fuck over here, now!"

He turned, eyes wide, a slight smirk on his face before trudging over. "Y/n, everything okay?"

"No! Everything is not okay! Why the fuck would you give two random people my house to live in when we decided that was my place! I told you guys I don't like sharing!"

Tommy crossed his arms, "Maria and I decided you needed some company. Joel and Ellie came today and they need a place to stay. So they will be staying under the same roof. Besides, you have four rooms in that house, you can share."

Fucking Tommy and Maria messing with my shit.

"Fine." you sighed, crossing your arms.

Turning around, you paused, noticing Joel and Ellie watching the exchange from the patio, both arms crossed over their chest.

"Who are they anyway?"

Tommy smiled, exchanging a glance with the two strangers on your patio before turning to you, "That's my brother Joel, and her adoptive daughter Ellie."

Dropping your arms from in front of your chest, your eyes widened. "You're fucking with me."

He shook his head, smiling. "Nope. So play nice."

Walking to the patio, you pointed a finger at Joel, "We are not sharing a bed. Or a room."

"Fine by me." he shrugged, a slight smirk on his face.

At least he gave me a good-looking guest. Maybe he'll prove to be useful in fixing the house.

#ambs 1k follower celebration #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #tlous #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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roofinglystersexteriors · 2 years ago

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Finding reputable roofing contractors in Kalamazoo

Here are general tips for finding reputable Roofing Companies Kalamazoo Mi:

Check for licenses and insurance: Make sure the roofing contractor you hire is licensed and insured to operate in Kalamazoo. This ensures that they are qualified to perform the work and that you won't be held liable for any accidents that may occur during the job.

Read reviews and check references: Look for online reviews of roofing contractors in Kalamazoo, and ask for references from any contractors you are considering. This can help you get an idea of the quality of their work and their level of professionalism.

Get multiple quotes: Contact multiple roofing contractors in Kalamazoo and request quotes for your project. This will allow you to compare prices and services and choose the best option for your needs.

Ask about warranties: Make sure the roofing contractor you hire offers a warranty on their work. This will give you peace of mind knowing that any issues that arise after the job is completed will be addressed.

Don't make a decision based solely on price: While cost is an important factor, don't let it be the only factor in your decision. Choosing a reputable roofing contractor Jackson Roofing who provides quality work may save you money in the long run by preventing costly repairs or replacements down the line.

#Roofing Company Battle Creek Mi #Roofing Contractors Battle Creek Mi #Roofing Company In Battle Creek Michigan #Roofers Battle Creek Mi #Battle Creek Roofing #Jackson Roofing

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humanbug · 2 years ago

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Someone else? pt. 4

Tommy and Joel discover another immune person.

a/n: this will probably be the last part...i said that last time but idk maybe ill change my mind again. i don't loveee this one but i kinda had writers block. again thank you for all the interaction!!! it makes me want to keep writing! as always feel free to comment your thoughts and dont be afraid to send me requests about what i should write next! reblogs are also appreciated!! enjoy!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The sun was beginning to lower in the sky as you made your way to the couch. You smile as the scene before you seemed too good given the shit-hole of a world you lived in. You had a roof over your head, clean hair, several blankets surrounding you, a mug of tea, and music playing softly on the record player.

Ellie was out on patrol tonight and wasn’t expected to be back until early morning. You felt nervous spending the night alone but already felt like such a burden living in her home and her taking care of you. She would constantly be giving you reassurance opposing the very idea of being a burden but the fear was still there.

As you snuggle into the blanket nest you’ve made on the couch your mind wanders to the conversation you had with Ellie this morning. She had let you know that Tommy had found a place for you to live on your own but if you wanted to keep living with her that you could. It had been on your mind all day.

‘Do I want to live alone? I haven’t…ever lived alone? God, the very thought makes me nauseous. That’s so pathetic. Fuck this shouldn’t be such a hard decision-’ Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. You sit up, frozen, heart racing. Another knock sounds followed by a soft voice calling your name. Dina? You had gotten to meet her about a week ago but what was she doing at your door this late?

Walking to the door with a blanket around your body you open it to see Dina standing there.

“Hey! Can I come in? It’s freezing but I wanna ask you something!” She asks with a gentle smile.

Stepping aside, she walks in rubbing her hands over her arms to warm herself up.

“Uh…what’s up Dina?” You shift nervously on your feet.

She smiles warmly at you, “Jesse and I are planning on hanging out at the Tipsy Bison tonight. We thought we’d ask you to join us. I know Ellie is on patrol tonight and thought you might enjoy some company!”

“Oh! Um- I mean- I dunno. I mean, yeah? Yeah! I’ll join you guys.” You stutter out. Anxiety filling your body to the brim. It couldn’t hurt to go out. You had basically been a hermit the last few weeks anyway, only going out for some meals and to the medic building a few days ago to get your stitches removed. Besides Ellie won’t be back ‘till the morning anyway and you’d probably get bored soon just sitting around the house.

“Yes! Oh I’m so happy! I’ll wait outside for you to get dressed and we’ll walk over.” She grins in excitement, already easing your anxiety at her eagerness to spend time with you.

Changing into jeans and a long sleeve shirt, slipping one of Ellie’s hoodies over. Slipping on your boots you look into the small mirror, smoothing your hands over your hair anxiously.

‘Deep breaths! Just be cool. It’s not a big deal and whatever you do, do not mention your…injury.’ You give yourself a pep talk and before you can psych yourself out you swing the door open and step outside.

Walking over to the Tipsy Bison together, you two make small talk. You learn that Dina has lived in Jackson for about three years and that she and Jesse are dating. She asks about you and Ellie’s relationship and your face burns and you ramble out, “Relationship!? Oh, I- We aren’t- She just took me in because Tommy asked her too! I don’t- She’s not- I’m- I’m pretty sure I am more of a thorn in her side than anything.”

Dina looks over at you, giving you a knowing smile as you ramble. “I mean, if you insist! I see the way she looks at you and trust me, if someone is a thorn in Ellie’s side she…doesn’t hesitate to let them know. That girl has no filter and is the worst at hiding facial expressions.” She laughs out.

Before you can ramble out even more about what a pest you’ve been to Ellie you are walking through the doors of the bar. The building is warm, both in temperature and in ambiance. The room is dim with warm lighting, there is a large bar covering one side and tables and chairs made out of old wooden barrels along the opposite wall. There are a decent amount of people around causing your anxiety to sky rocket, still not being used to being around so many people all the time.

The two of you join Jesse at the table in the corner of the bar. Noticing that he has a game of scrabble ready to be played, your face lights up at the thought of playing a board game. You couldn’t even remember the last time you could enjoy something as simple as a board game.

—

“Shvitz is a word goddamnit! It’s a word! Twenty one points! Write ‘em down!” Dina shouts at Jesse.

“Fine! Fine but only because I am feeling kind…because it’s not a word.” Jesse concedes causing Dina to give him the middle finger. Dina leans over the table to watch and make sure Jesse gives her the correct amount of points.

You are laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt. The two of them had been arguing over every other word played and it never seemed to get old. Realizing that you're starting to get a small headache from laughing so hard you look over to the bar wondering if you should ask for water.

‘C’mon don’t be a baby. Just get up and ask!’ You think to yourself.

Taking a deep breath you rise up and walk over to an empty standing spot. Making eye contact with the bar-tender and giving him a small smile just to get his attention you patiently wait for your turn. Leaning against the bar and fiddling with your fingers, your shoulders square and a chill runs down your back and the sudden intrusion of your personal space. Turning around slightly you see a young man standing…way too close looking down at you. A smug smirk on his face.

Giving him a tight lipped smile you try to scoot past him abandoning the idea of getting water however he places his arm on the bar in front of you becoming painfully invasive of your personal space, that stupid smoke growing as if he won something.

“Excuse me…please move.” You mumble.

“Aw c’mon now. Don’t run off like a scared little kitten. I’m just tryin’ to talk to you.” He jeers.

‘Oh my god. Oh my god. Please just move.”

Giving an uncomfortable smile, not wanting to anger him, “I- I’m okay. Really.” You begin to take a step back but he places a hand way too low on your back.

“And what’s a little thing like you gonna do if I don’t, hm?” His voice takes a mocking tone.

“Please- Please just-” You are cut off by the man being violently shoved off of you. Gasping you press yourself against the bar as you see Ellie getting in the man's face.

“You put your fucking hands on her!? Huh!? Fucking answer me. You were so fucking cocky ten seconds ago!” She says inches from his face.

��Ellie!? What the fuck!?’

You see her rear her hand back in a fist but before you can think you rush forward to stop her. This needs to stop, she got her point across. Grabbing the back of her jacket you pull her attention towards you.

“Ellie! Please stop. C’mon you got your point across. Please!” You say desperately.

As her attention shifts to you, her gaze softens into worry. Grabbing your hand she rushes out of the bar with you stumbling behind her.

Dina and Jesse are rushing behind you two.

“Ellie! Ellie, stop! What the fuck?” Dina is shouting at her.

As the four of you step into the cold, Ellie turns around keeping you behind her. You keep your head down feeling downright mortified.

“Me ‘what the fuck!? What the fuck were you thinking taking her out? Did you even see that sleaze touching her? Huh!?” She seethes.

You mumble out, “It’s not their fault Ellie please…”

Jesse steps forward holding a hand out to Ellie, “Christ, Ellie take a breath!”

“I just-” She takes a deep breath, “I just panicked okay? I got back from patrol early and she wasn’t home and I just panicked, okay?” She rushes out, regret settling deep in her bones.

Looking over at you apologetically Dina sighs, “We’re sorry for not seeing that creep. We just wanted to invite you out and really didn’t think some perv was gonna try something.”

Feeling so embarrassed you almost cry as you rush out, “Please! Please don’t apologize! I had so much fun, really.” Turning to look at Ellie, “I’m okay, I promise. Please don’t be mad at them Ellie.” You give your best puppy dog eyes to her.

Running a hand over her face, she huffs out a breath, “I can’t be mad when you’re looking at me like that…I didn’t mean to freak out. I didn’t mean to ruin you guys’ night either.” Regret laced in her tone.

“Can we hang out again tomorrow night! Please!” You ask everyone, hoping to ease the tension. Really hoping they agree so you can spend more time together. Feeling overjoyed at the feeling of normalcy that Jackson has given you. You got to go to a bar and play board games, never in your life did you think that you would be able to have that kind of fun.

The tension dissipates from the air as Dina grins ear to ear, “Of course, Tipsy Bison tomorrow at seven!” She beams with almost as much excitement as you.

–

As you both walk back to the house there’s a tension that lulls in the air. Neither of you can figure out what to say to the other. You bite your lip in anxiety and kick stones on the ground as you shuffle along.

‘Fuck it! Just say it! Say it!’

“I don’t want to live alone!” You rush out, your cheeks turning red, not giving her a chance to respond you ramble on, “I- I’ve never lived alone and- you make me feel safe and I- If you are totally sick of living with me I understand- so don’t hesitate to tell me-”

“I’d like that. For you to keep living with me.” She cuts off your rambling, making you look at her with wide eyes.

“Really?” You practically whisper. Not believing what you heard.

“Really.” She assures as she unlocks the front door.

You toe off your shoes and flop down on the bed and she leans on the edge of her desk, fiddling with her fingers. Silence falls over the two of you again.

Feeling confident at Ellie’s lack of rejection of your confession, you take a deep breath and move to stand in front of her. Upon sensing your movement she glances at you as you step forward and take her face in your hands, pressing your lips to hers.

She stills for a second before returning the kiss with fervor. Placing her hands low on your waist she pulls you flush to her body. She runs her tongue along the seam of your lips, asking for entrance and you give it to her without hesitation. Ellie’s grip on your waist tightens as she begins to stand, lips still molded onto yours. Needing air you pull back, not expecting her to keep kissing across your cheek and down your jaw you whine. She lets out a chuckle at your sound and guides you backward, bodies still pressed together.

The back of your knees meet the bed and you fall onto it with a small gasp. She pulls back, leaning over you with her hands on either side of you, she presses her forehead to yours.

“I want to keep you safe.” She whispers, almost as if she’s afraid of what she’s saying. Placing your hands on either side of her jaw you look into her eyes.

“I’d really like that.” You whisper back.

taglist:

@daddysfavoritesexkitten

#ˏˋ°•*⁀➷humanbug fics #the last of us fic #the last of us ellie #the last of us #alternate universe #fanfic #tlou fanfiction #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie imagine #tlou ellie #tlou

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bestmusicalworldcup · 1 year ago

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2023 League of Musicals Alphabetized List of Musicals

Below is the full list of musicals in the League of Musicals sorted by Division.

Division A

Alice By Heart Annie Assassins Avenue Q The Band's Visit The Book of Mormon Cabaret Cats Chess Chicago A Chorus Line Come From Away Company Falsettos Fiddler on the Roof Firebringer Fun Home A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder Ghost Quartet Guys and Dolls Hadestown Hair Hairspray Hamilton Hello, Dolly! The Hunchback of Notre Dame In The Heights Into the Woods Jekyll and Hyde The King and I Kinky Boots Legally Blonde Les Misérables The Lion King Little Shop of Horrors Matilda Moulin Rouge Mozart, l'opéra rock The Music Man My Fair Lady Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 Newsies Next to Normal Octet Once Once on this Island The Phantom of the Opera Pippin The Producers Ragtime Rent Ride the Cyclone The Rocky Horror Show Something Rotten The Sound of Music Spies Are Forever SpongeBob SquarePants: The Broadway Musical Spring Awakening Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street Twisted: The Untold Story of A Royal Vizier Waitress West Side Story Wicked The Wiz

Division B

25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee 42nd Street 1776 Adamandi American Idiot American Psycho Anastasia Applause Bare: A Pop Opera Beetlejuice Be More Chill Billy Elliot the Musical Bonnie and Clyde Bye Bye Birdie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Cinderella (Rodgers and Hammerstein) City of Angels Damn Yankees Dear Evan Hansen Death Note: The Musical Evita Fosse A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum Grease The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals Hallelujah, Baby! Heathers Holy Musical B@man! How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying Jersey Boys Jesus Christ Superstar Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat Kiss Me, Kate Kiss of the Spider Woman La Cage aux Folles The Lightning Thief A Little Night Music Man of La Mancha Memphis Monty Python's Spamalot The Mystery of Edwin Drood A New Brain Nine The Pajama Game Passion The Prom The Scarlet Pimpernel Singin' in the Rain Six South Pacific Starship A Strange Loop Sunday in the Park with George Sunset Boulevard Tanz der Vampire / Dance of the Vampires Thoroughly Modern Millie Tick Tick Boom Titanic The Trail to Oregon! Tuck Everlasting Two Gentlemen of Verona Urinetown The Will Rogers Follies The Wizard of Oz (1987)

Division C

& Juliet 21 Chump Street 35MM: A Musical Exhibition 1789: Les Amants de la Bastille Aida Allegiance Amélie Annie Get Your Gun Anything Goes The Art of Pleasing Princes Bandstand Beauty and the Beast Big Fish Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson Carousel Carrie The Color Purple Contact The Count of Monte Cristo Dogfight Dracula, the Musical Dreamgirls Elisabeth Evil Dead: The Musical Finding Neverland Frankenstein: A New Musical The Frogs Funny Girl Godspell Groundhog Day Gypsy Hedwig and the Angry Inch Jane Eyre The Last Five Years Lizzie The Lord of the Rings Love in Hate Nation Love Never Dies The Mad Ones The Magic Show Mary Poppins Mean Girls Merrily We Roll Along Miss Saigon Mozart! Oklahoma! Oliver On the Town Ordinary Days Parade The Pirate Queen Preludes Pretty Woman The Prince of Egypt Priscilla, Queen of the Desert Rebecca Roméo et Juliette: de la Haine à l'Amour The Secret Garden Seussical She Loves Me Shrek the Musical Starry Wonderland You're A Good Man Charlie Brown

Division D

13: The Musical Ablaze The Act Ain't Misbehavin An American in Paris Anne & Gilbert Anyone Can Whistle Av. Larco Back to the Future the Musical The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas Big River Bran Nue Dae Bright Star Bring It On Calvin Berger Caroline, or Change Clown Bible Crazy for You De 3 Biggetjes The Dolls of New Albion Dorian Gray The Drowsy Chaperone The Fantasticks Fiorello! Fly by Night Follies Frankenstein (Wang Yeon Beom + Brandon Lee) Hans Christian Andersen Hoy no me puedo levantar In Transit Jagged Little Pill Jerome Robbins' Broadway Kimberly Akimbo King's Table Kismet Lady Bess La Légende du roi Arthur Le Passe-Muraille / Amour Le Roi Soleil Les Parapluies de Cherbourg The Light in the Piazza Made in Dagenham Magic Tree House: The Musical Mentiras el musical Notre-Dame de Paris Once Upon A Mattress On Your Feet! The Story of Emilio & Gloria Estefan Phantom (Yeston & Kopit) Raisin Redhead Sarafina! School of Rock The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1964) Seven Brides for Seven Brothers Show Boat Sidd Siete veces adios Soldaat van Oranje The Spitfire Grill Starlight Express Starmania / Tycoon Tarrytown The Threepenny Opera / Die Dreigroschenoper Timéo Wiedzmin The Wild Party (Lippa) The Woman in White Wonderful Town [title of show] Émilie Jolie

#league of musicals

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bluestar22x · 1 year ago

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A Haunting In Jackson

A Haunting In Jackson - A "Visitation Rights" Short Fic (Absolutely can be read as a standalone fic)

Summary: A campfire story told by Tommy Miller leaves you spooked

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader; Miller family dynamics (includes Ellie)

Rating: 13+

Warnings: Just an eerie setting, reader being nervous, fluff and Miller family dynamics. Some swearing. A spooky ghost story told around a fire pit on Halloween night.

Word Count: 3,200 (ish)

Author's Note: For the Halloween writing challenge made by @pedrocontestsrus ; set after Visitation Rights and Morning Routine, but definitely can be read on its own if you're not interested in reading the other two. That's why I'm submitting it for the contest. It's a standalone in this fic verse. Happens 7 months after Morning Routine (for anyone who cares about the timeline).

Prompt #2 Theme: A Dark and Stormy Night ⚡️

Must include: A lit candle, bare feet, a creaking sound

I keep visiting this Jackson verse, but I don't mind! Funny how Visitation Rights was basically just a spur of the moment fic.

xxx

Jackson, 2025

You hadn't watched a horror movie in over twenty years, but you remembered one that had an eerily similar scene setting to this. Thunder rumbling in the distance, lightning flashing, rain pelting against the roof, wind howling, blocking most sound out and causing the branches of the old ash tree behind the house to smack violently against a window in the spare bedroom that your boyfriend, Joel Miller, used as an office and workstation for his smaller projects.

You were padding cautiously down the short hallway to the stairs in the dark of night barefoot, you know, like any sane person who'd been startled awake by a loud thump, armed with nothing but a burning candle stick in your left hand. (The electricity had gone out right before you’d gone to bed that night and the stick was closer to you than a flashlight.)

Paranoid you was mentally bashing yourself for not waking Joel, letting him stay curled up in your shared bed, completely unaware that something might be going on. Joel might be half deaf, but he was a strong and capable fighter even at 58, and you could've used back up in the form of his broad frame, just in case.

Logical you however, had managed to convince yourself that whatever you'd heard couldn't be anything you couldn't handle on your own. You'd survived more than twenty years by yourself in a fungal apocalypse with nothing but dogs for company. Besides, it had to be nothing. A raccoon, if anything. Or a squirrel that managed to chew its way into the house. It couldn't be an intruder. This was Jackson after all. A small town filled with a community of proven trustworthy people and guarded by a fence and patrol twenty-four-seven. It was for that same reason that it couldn't be one of the infected. They never could get even close to the fence line, the Jackson patrol, which you and Joel were a part of, made sure of that.

And it definitely wasn't a ghost. It sounded stupid in your head even as you were denying it. Billions of people had died since outbreak day, most on that very night or during the following few weeks, and you'd never run into anything that suggested ghosts existed. If you couldn't find evidence for them after such a tragic and violent event, you figured there was nothing to find.

That somehow didn't stop you from being on edge anyway.

Damn you, Tommy, you cursed silently. Damn you for getting it into my head.

You'd always hated horror stories, ever since you'd been a little girl around a campfire, your friends swapping scary stories as tradition insisted. Your friends had fun with it, but you didn't, spending half the night lying awake in your sleeping bag, listening for any strange sounds, even though you were always camping out in the relative safety of each other's backyards.

You'd braved a few horror films here and there in your twenties, but only for dates with guys you were really interested in, and you always lived to regret it, spending hours on edge, looking over your shoulder just cause you felt like someone was watching you.

When your life had become a literal horror story, the infected one of the greatest nightmares ever seen in fiction and reality alike, you'd hardly slept for days. Most people probably hadn't, as they feared the infected attacking and tried to comprehend their massive losses, but you had especially not been equipped to cope with the fungal spread. It probably hadn't helped that you'd taken off alone, with only your black Labrador Raven to comfort you at night. But she'd been a lot better than nothing. A second set of ears that allowed you to sleep enough to remain sane.

So you were the least likely person to understand why Tommy was insisting on telling a scary story as if you were all back in middle school.

It was Halloween night, and while it wasn't an official holiday Jackson still celebrated (for obvious reasons), Tommy and Maria had still invited you, Joel, and Ellie over for a chicken dinner and a marathon movie watch of The Addams Family DVDs he'd found in a store the month before while out on a supply run. Popcorn was even included.

It was later followed by supper over the fire pit in their backyard, which consisted of beef sausage made from one of the cows recently slaughtered in town. Joel had showed Ellie how to cook one over a flame on a stick pulled from Tommy's tree line and sharpened by the pocket knife you'd gifted him last Christmas.

It was after everyone had finished eating that Tommy brought it up.

Joel had groaned. "Don't we live enough horror?"

"This one's a good one," Tommy insisted. "You'll love it, Ellie. It's based on a true story."

She was the only one who looked remotely curious. You supposed that was enough since Tommy was settling into his seat and clearly mulling over how to tell the story. Maria seated herself right alongside him, willing to humor her husband.

Joel was distracted, and likely would remain so. He was seated cross legged in the grass next to his one and a half year old nephew, receiving handmade wooden blocks over and over as the toddler willingly passed them to him. Joel had accepted each one with a grateful smile that mesmerized you a little. The kid was too young to know, but Joel had made them himself not long after he'd returned to Jackson with Ellie, months before you showed up. But you knew. You knew how much his nephew meant to him, and how much he valued his time around him. You were so focused on their endearing interaction you almost didn't catch on that Tommy had begun telling the story. (You'd later wish you hadn't caught any of it at all.)

"This story happened here in Jackson," he started. "The Green family, husband, wife, their teen twin daughters moved here in 1925, lookin' to start up a ranch like most who moved out here back then." He took a beat. "Now, Jackson was a small town then, might've been even smaller than it is now, but it wasn't that safe. Most of the west had been tamed but there were still a few outlaws, and no matter how tame a place gets, there's always someone stirring up trouble of one kind or another." He paused, "Mr. Green was one of those men. Wanting so desperately to afford his own land, he took to gambling, and cheating when he knew he was about to lose. Ripped off a lot of people, and in turn pissed a lot off too. In revenge, someone lit up his little clock shop on main street with him inside. They didn't know his wife was there with him at the time."

"But their daughters weren't?" Ellie prompted, invested in the story already, hands on her knees.

Tommy shook his head. "Thankfully, no. They were at a friend's house."

"So, what happened after?"

Tommy sighed. "The sheriff found the burned bodies of the husband and wife in the morning, unrecognizable, but the twins recognized the jewelry they were wearing, and everyone knew he'd been there that night. The fire was immediately deemed suspicious, but the murderer was never found."

"Of course not," you couldn't help but huff out. You'd heard a lot of similar "true" stories like this.

Tommy ignored you. "The orphaned twins found their father's secret stash of money and were able to rebuild the shop, turning it into a sewing store. A place where they handmade clothes to sell to people and sold supplies to make clothes, depending on the customer's preference. They turned the second floor into an apartment, living in the same space together. It made their lives easier to be able to walk downstairs and immediately get to work."

"There was one hiccup though," he stated dramatically, "The twins kept hearing noises at night. It started out as random thumps and creaks they could easily explain away as the place settling or their cat knocking something over, but eventually turned into sounds like footsteps and dragging furniture. It freaked them out, especially since whenever they got up to check, the living room chair would usually be out of place. They couldn't believe it. Something was moving it, but they didn't know what. Didn't want to know."

"What happened to them?" Ellie encouraged him, frowning.

"About a decade after their parents died, their shop burned down mysteriously," Tommy told her, poking a stick at the burning logs in the pit, moving them around so the flames could get more oxygen. "Luckily, they weren't inside, but because there was no evidence to otherwise, it was deemed as an accident this time. The twins weren't convinced. They thought their parents' killer was out to get them. They thought their parents had been with them in their apartment and were trying to scare them out, like they knew it would happen again. Of course, they couldn't prove it. That didn't stop them from moving out of town, settling somewhere else. The locals heard that they lived out long, mostly happy lives after, but they were, to say the least, haunted by what happened until their last breaths. They never did get justice for their parents. Their killer was never found."

Everyone here that isn't under two years old could relate to that, you thought. Being haunted by loss and injustice.

"While that was the end of the story for the Green family," Tommy continued, "It was not the end for the town. The spot the shop was built on was used for other things. More shops, eventually a house when main street was moved over to where it is today. No more burned down, but the roof on one shop collapsed because of heavy snowfall one year. Of course, that's not the spooky part. It's that the buildings on that piece of land were always haunted. The owners always heard strange things a night, always found furniture moved from where they'd been left."

"Where is the piece of land?" Ellie inquired curiously, if not a bit nervously.

"You don't actually believe him, do ya?" Joel teased, glancing over at her.

"Of course not," she denied. "I just want the full story."

He grinned like someone who'd found a secret to weaponize against a friend. You were smiling too. Who knew Ellie was superstitious?

"No one knows where the piece of land is," Tommy declared. "It could be one of our houses for all we know. I don't think it's mine, but then I sleep through a lot."

"Tell me about it," Maria huffed.

You chuckled at her comment but couldn't help but shiver a little. It wasn't like you thought Tommy's "true" story had actually been real, but rather that the spirit of the story (pun not intended) had settled over you, so similar to the feeling you used to get after finishing up a horror movie. It may have been fake, but your body reacted like it wasn't, getting keyed up over the creepiness of strange noises happening in a house that should be quiet.

Joel, ever so vigilant, noted your shiver, but assumed it was from the cool wind picking up. It was probably close to ten at night.

"Well, we outta get home, huh?" he suggested, looking up at the sky. "The clouds are gathering. Might have a storm tonight."

"I'm certain of it," Maria told you both. "Can smell it in the air."

You never quite understood how people could do that, and wondered if your sense of smell was just bad.

You pushed yourself up off the log you were sitting on as Joel scooped up his nephew and handed him off to Maria. "See you tomorrow," he said to both her and his brother. They both nodded.

"Thanks for the story, Tommy," Ellie said, hopping onto her feet. "Even if it's totally fake."

"If you say so," he hummed, smiling. He almost convinced you that he believed the story and that it wasn't entirely made up. Almost.

Ellie was about to walk away when Joel stopped her with a hand. "Where are you going?"

"Some friends of mine are hanging out with Dina at her house," she informed him. "I said I'd stop in."

Joel gave her a disapproving look. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I won't be long," Ellie replied, giving him a pleading look. "You know them."

It was mostly true. You and Joel had seen her with her friends before and had met Dina herself, but you both weren't naive enough to think that wasn't just the tip of the iceberg of knowing them. Teens hid their truths well.

Still, against his better judgement Joel gave her the benefit of the doubt. "Be at the house by midnight the latest."

Ellie jumped in spot. "Okay, I will. Thanks!"

Joel shook his head as she jogged off. "Am I going to regret that?" he asked you.

"Probably," you said honestly.

You both turned to Tommy and Maria one last time to say goodbye and kissed their son on the cheek before strolling back to your house across the street.

The wind started to really blow and thunder boomed in the distance. An autumn storm was definitely on the way.

A wooden floorboard creaked behind you and you spun around, heart pounding in your chest. You relaxed instantly when you saw that the noise had come from Joel stepping on one of the house's loose floorboards (that he had been, in fact, planning to fix that weekend). In the dark you couldn't really see the details of his face, but there was enough light to see the outline of his sleep mussed hair and angular nose. You could also see that he'd slipped on the matching shirt to the gray sweatpants he sometimes wore to bed on chilly nights before following you.

"What are you doin’ up?" he murmured sleepily, voice as gruff as ever.

"I heard something," you whispered back. "Probably nothin’, but..."

Joel nodded, understanding. If there was anyone who could outmatch your anxious state of being at any point in time, it would be him. He already had the handgun he kept hidden in his nightstand in his right hand.

Of course he'd taken your concern seriously. Even though he'd been in Jackson for nearly two years, he still fell into old habits easily. He'd probably never quite believe that the town was one hundred percent safe. It was why he'd joined patrol.

He didn't know why you were worried, but you being worried was enough, and you decided not to tell him that the single thump wasn't really what had compelled you to get up.

The storm was dying down, and when another thump sounded, followed by a soft whine, your current dog, a senior black Lab named Penny, limped out of her bed, stopping by your side loyally and growling, neck hair standing on end. Though your heart was banging in your chest and your mind was once again wondering what the hell was in the house, there was still a part of you that managed to wonder how Penny had heard the sound at all. She'd been progressively losing her hearing during the past year, and her deafness was in both ears, unlike Joel's.

You and Joel glanced at each other anxiously and quietly made your way down the stairs, Joel automatically taking the lead, and you gratefully following. Penny smartly lingered at the top of the steps, watching you go.

Once you'd both made it to the kitchen, Joel tried flicking on the lights, and you were grateful when they worked, surprised that the men who dealt with the power supply had gotten it back up and running so soon.

Ellie, however, was certainly not pleased by that revelation. She blinked at you and Joel, squinting in reaction to the sudden bright light, and groaned. "Fuck."

She was seated in one of the kitchen chairs, bending slightly over to rub the big toe of her right foot, clearly having stubbed it on something when she'd stepped into the room. Her tied back shoulder length brown hair was soaking wet and she was still wearing the dark green raincoat Maria had gifted her on her sixteenth birthday.

She pulled her hand away from her toe to pinch the bridge of her nose, eyes avoiding both yours and Joel's. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Ellie, do you realize what time it is?" Joel lectured, immediately switching into dad mode. You liked to think it was trademarked to him. "It's four AM. You promised you'd be home by midnight."

"I know," she moaned. "But I fell asleep, and no one bothered to wake me up. Dina didn't know I wasn't supposed to stay over."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Joel quizzed as he approached her. He sniffed the air. "And why do you smell like you poured alcohol over your head?" He stared at her disapprovingly.

Ellie grimaced. "I may have drank a little." She knew better than to deny it at least.

"Go get washed up and get to bed," Joel ordered sternly, eyes narrowing. "And don't think about spending time there next weekend. We'll talk more in the morning."

Ellie chewed her lip, but didn't argue, standing and bowing her head in defeat as she raced past you both to do as told.

Joel shook his head as he watched her go and scrubbed a hand over his face. You blew out the candle you were still holding and placed it on the kitchen table before reaching out to slip your newly freed hand into his. "Teenagers."

Joel grunted. "She listened better out on the road."

"Out on the road she was in survival mode," you reminded him gently. "Here she feels safe enough to make mistakes. To get into trouble."

"Are you trying to imply it's a good thing she stayed out all night and drank?" he huffed. "Did God knows what else?"

"No," you said simply. "I don't like it either. But at least it's normal."

And it was far better finding Ellie in the kitchen, even if she was a little tipsy, than some ghost.

You snorted at your train of thought.

"What're you thinkin' of?" Joel asked, having noticed.

You shook your head. "Nothin’. Let's get back to bed."

He agreed to it reluctantly, still stewing over what Ellie had done, and after you shut the light, you led the way back upstairs, past Penny, who'd climbed back into her dog bed in the hallway.

He got back into bed first, and you followed, wrapping an arm around his middle, burying your face against the back of his shoulder, and he accepted your embrace without protest.

You slept soundly for the rest of the night, what little there was left, despite Ellie having come home late.

There were worst things in life than a teenager coming home drunk.

At least you weren't living out a horror movie called A Haunting In Jackson.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

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