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punkshort · 2 months ago

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Evergreen | Chapter One: Denial

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Tommy encourages Joel to join bereavement group counseling, where he meets you. You connect over a similar loss and the common thread of loneliness, leading to something unexpected for you both.

Chapter Warnings: grief, angst, mentions of OC deaths, mild references to: suicide, self harm, drug use (none by reader or Joel), language, panic/anxiety attack (Joel), Joel POV

WC: 8.8K

A/N: I've been working on this goddamn series since May. Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to it but I am committing to a posting schedule now that it is almost complete and I appreciate you all for being so patient. Hope you enjoy tons of fluff and softness and angst.

Series Masterlist

Joel's hands gripped the steering wheel as he stared blankly at the faded brick building connected to the small, run down parking lot. He watched as the clock ticked down to six in the evening, and with each passing minute a new car parked nearby or someone walked through the double doors. He wasn't sure what he expected, but he was surprised to see people of all ages streaming inside.

Then he saw a young woman with two children, one in each hand, neither of which could have been over seven years old, walk inside with watery eyes and he dropped his gaze to his lap in shame.

Mia had been gone for nearly ten years. He had no business being there. His grief wasn't fresh. Over the years, he's learned to cope with it, to live alongside it. The people who were there that night needed the support.

Joel didn't need support. He was just lonely.

He reached for his key, still dangling in the ignition, when his phone rang. With a sigh, he patted down the front of his jeans until he located his phone, then lifted his hips off the worn seat with a grunt so he could fish it out.

"Yeah?"

"You better not be thinkin' 'bout leavin'."

Joel swiveled around in alarm, searching the parking lot for his brother's truck, but all he saw were the last few stragglers hurriedly walking up to the front doors, the anguish practically weighing them down as they moved.

"You watchin' me now?"

Tommy chuckled on the other end.

"Nah, I'm at home. I just know you."

Joel rolled his eyes as the clock ticked to 6:01 on the dash.

"This is stupid, Tommy."

"It ain't stupid. It's been almost ten years and you've never looked twice at another woman. You can tell me you've moved on or that you're fine, but I'm not buying your bullshit," Tommy said sternly on the other end. "I don't think you ever gave yourself a chance to process what happened and it's important you do that. For your mental health and all that."

"Maria tell you to say that?" Joel scoffed, but still unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

"Maybe. Don't matter who said it, it's true."

"Fine. I'm walkin' in now, I'll call you later," Joel said, then hung up without waiting for a reply.

The building wasn't very big. From the lobby, Joel could hear a male's voice making what sounded like brief introductions as he strolled quickly down the hall. He rested his hand on the push bar and took a deep breath. Right as he was about to enter, he heard someone else's light footsteps jogging up behind him. He turned around as you approached, a little breathless and with a guilty smile.

"Oh, good, I'm not the only one who's late," you said, nodding towards the door.

"Uh, yeah," Joel said, clearing his throat softly, "we can share the heat," he joked, opening the door and stepping aside so you could walk through first. You shot him a grateful look and mouthed thank you before entering the room.

The group all turned their heads at the disruption, as expected, but the counselor waved them in with a warm smile.

"Welcome! Have a seat, we were just getting started."

Joel found the first empty chair he could, in the very last row closest to the door. You glanced around the room before sliding into the same row as him, just a few seats down.

"As I was saying, welcome to the grief and loss support group. I'm Dr. Harris, but please feel free to call me Ryan."

Ryan was young. Definitely under forty. Something about that irked Joel. He imagined this man going to school to learn how to be caring, how to listen and say all the right words at the right time so he could make a decent paycheck and call himself doctor while he went home to his wife and picket fence and his patients went home with a gaping hole in their hearts.

"There is no wrong way to grieve," Ryan was saying from the podium with a practiced look of solemnity. "All of you are here for different reasons. And while you may look around here and think nobody else could possibly understand what you are feeling, I am here to tell you that you are simply wrong." Ryan took a moment to let his words settle over the group before continuing. "We have all lost somebody in our lives. That is the common thread that weaves us all together. And I'm here to tell you to use it." Ryan clenched his fists for emphasis and Joel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Lean on each other. Listen to one another. This is a safe space. Nobody will judge you here, no matter what you may think, everybody in this room is here for the same reason."

After what felt like an eternity, Ryan invited the people in the room to approach the podium to speak, no longer than ten minutes, he had said, reminding everyone that their time was limited and they always could speak again at the next meeting.

One by one, people trickled up to the front of the room. First it was an elderly woman who explained with tears in her eyes that her husband of forty years passed away a month ago.

"It sounds silly," she sniffled, "but it feels like I'm... untethered. Like I lost my connection to this world when he left and I'm scared I might just... float away."

Next was a man around Joel's age who visibly struggled to hold back his tears about his late sister.

"I just keep reminding myself I didn't cause it, I can't control it, can't undo it. I'm really mad at myself for not paying attention to the warning signs. She was struggling, y'know?" His glassy eyes addressed the group briefly before he cast his gaze back down. "The best thing I can do is try to rebuild. Don't let the anguish fester. Don't let it consume me. Because she wouldn't want that."

After that, a girl no older than twenty, arms and neck covered in tattoos walked to the front. "She was my best friend since we were eight. And I know it's my fault, I know it is," she choked out, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I gave her her first hit. I could see she was falling too deep into it and I didn't try to help her, I was too focused on my own shit and not seeing what was right in front of me. To this day, I can't look her mom in the eye-" the girl hung her head and took a moment to gather herself. Chairs squeaked as the group patiently waited for her to continue. "But I'm clean and sober almost six months now," she said with a watery smile. A small round of applause broke out amongst the group and she nodded her thanks. "I'm thinking about going to school for social work. Maybe I can honor her memory in some way."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you cross and uncross your legs nervously but made no move to walk to the front.

Same as him.

When the clock on the wall ticked closer to seven, Ryan addressed the group one final time.

"I'll stick around in case anybody wants to have a talk after group. Just a reminder that I'm only here once a week, but my esteemed colleague, Grace, runs another group on Tuesdays, so please feel free to stop by one or both. I also left some cards in the back next to the coffee. My information is on there if you would like a one on one appointment and on the back is the crisis hotline. Please take one, you never know when you may need it."

The room collectively seemed to stand, a murmur rippling through the group as people began to softly speak again, reaching out to neighbors, either introducing themselves or catching up from the last session. Joel scratched at his chin and looked around the room as people continued to filter around. Some paired off to grab coffee, some went to talk to Ryan, but Joel just stood there. All alone.

He took a deep breath and headed for the back, then lingered at the small stack of business cards Ryan had mentioned. He picked one up and flipped it over, studying it, when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Excuse me," you said, and he swiveled around in surprise.

"Oh, sorry," he replied, stepping to the side so you could reach the coffee. He pretended to look at the card but watched as you filled up a cup. He waited for you to add cream or sugar but you didn't. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a tentative sip before recoiling at the heat and doing it again.

"That, uh, any good?"

Your eyes locked onto his and you shrugged. "'Bout what you'd expect."

He smiled and looked around the room, fidgeting with the edge of the card before sliding it into his pocket. "This your first session, too?"

You shook your head and stepped aside, a little closer to him, so others could get to the coffee. "I've been coming here almost two months."

That surprised Joel. Based on the way the rest of the group seemed familiar with each other, he had suspected the two of you were both new.

"Two months? Wow," Joel said, "how's it workin' out for you, if you don't mind my askin'?"

You sighed and gave him a little smile.

"Some days are better than others. But I figure it doesn't hurt, so..." you trailed off and crossed your arms, your fingertips tapping against the paper cup. "My mom begged me to come, so I did. I think it makes her believe she's helping in some way by pushing it and I grew tired of feeling like an emotional burden."

Joel frowned. "I'm sure that ain't true. No parent thinks their kid is an emotional burden."

You chuckled and drained the rest of your cup. "You'd be surprised." You tossed the cup into the trash before giving him a brighter smile. Although expressing your emotions was the entire reason you were there, you still felt uncomfortable doing it. "So this was your first time? What did you think?"

"Jury's still out," Joel replied honestly. "Promised my brother I would give it a try, same as you. My daughter just went off to college last month and I think he and his wife are worried 'bout me bein' all alone for the first time in, well... forever, I suppose." His lips pursed in thought for a moment. "Feels kinda like I don't belong here. My wife passed almost ten years ago. I've learned to live with it by now. It ain't as raw as all that-" he gestured up to the podium, referencing all the individuals who poured their hearts out for the past hour. Then he realized he was rambling and chuckled. "Sorry. Can't seem to shut up." He looked at you sheepishly and you smiled back.

"That's good. That's what you're supposed to do here," you assured him, then took a deep breath. "I lost my fiancé a year ago, so I can relate... kind of."

"I'm sorry," he said, furrowing his brow and examining your face. "You're so young, you shouldn't know what that feels like at your age."

"Not that young. I'm thirty-one," you joked. He laughed and rubbed his chin.

"Well I got twenty years on you, seems pretty young to me."

"You're fifty-one?" you asked, and he nodded. "You look good, I wouldn't have guessed a day over..." you trailed off as you studied his face and he grinned.

"Go ahead, be honest."

"Forty-three," you decided, and Joel laughed. When was the last time he felt this lighthearted?

"Well that's the nicest thing I've heard all week," he replied. The room began to thin out and you shifted your weight.

"Well, I guess I should get going," you told him, almost sounding regretful. Then you pinched your eyebrows together. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Joel," he said, sticking an arm out to shake your hand. You gave him a warm smile before telling him your name, your hand getting dwarfed by his thick, rough fingers.

"Will I see you next week, Joel?"

"Yeah," he replied, walking out with you and holding open the door. "I'll give it another chance."

"Good. I mean, you know, I'm glad you're giving it another chance," you found yourself inexplicably stumbling over your words and before your face began to heat up you veered off towards your car with a quick wave.

Joel's eyes trailed after you for a minute before he opened the door to his truck and climbed inside. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against his lower lip, lost in thought while he stared straight ahead at the emptying parking lot. Then you drove by in a higher end white SUV and he watched as you took a right turn out of the lot and disappeared down the road. He sighed and started his truck, realizing he was one of the last cars in the lot, and decided to stop at a fast food drive thru on the way home.

"Uncle Tommy told me you went to a grief support group the other day, how did it go?" Sarah asked him over FaceTime. He pushed the lever on his recliner and leaned back into the chair with a grunt.

"S'alright," he mumbled.

"Did you share anything?"

"No."

"Well, why not?"

"'Cause, baby girl, these people just lost someone close to 'em. I can't get up there and talk 'bout your mama, it's been so long-"

"That doesn't matter," she said, interrupting him. He could hear other kids in the background laughing but she remained focused on her screen. "I don't think you've ever really processed Mom's death and it's important to me that you try. I worry about you, old man," she teased, and Joel grinned.

"No need to worry 'bout me, I'm stayin' busy."

"Yeah, doing what? And don't tell me you're eating frozen meals and watching baseball because it'll break my heart."

Joel's eyes drifted to the empty plastic tray on the coffee table.

"No," he said gruffly. "Ain't baseball season. I'm watchin' basketball."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Dad," she whined, "what about your friends? The guys from work?"

He didn't have the heart to tell her they were busy with their families, with their wives, so he lied.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get together with Jimmy later this week. Gonna shoot some pool."

"That sounds great!" Sarah exclaimed, her face instantly brightening. Her eyes snapped up to someone behind her phone and she grinned, holding up one finger, then looked back at him. "Listen, Dad, I gotta run. I promised a few friends I would go to the football game with them."

"Oh, so you'll watch football with your friends and not me?" he teased, and she giggled. "Alright then, text me when you get back home safe."

"I will. I love you."

No matter how many times he heard it, those words always warmed his heart.

"Love you too, baby girl."

The call ended and he set his phone down with a sigh. Sarah was right. He couldn't waste away in his house all alone, waiting for her to come home to visit or for Tommy and Maria to come by for dinner. He needed to get a hobby. He glanced outside then looked at the time before turning off the television and pushing himself out of his recliner with a groan. He shuffled down the hall to his bedroom to change out of his old sweatpants and ratty tshirt, then snatched his keys off the kitchen counter and headed out to the driveway.

He drove aimlessly through town, his window down with his arm hanging out, soaking up the sun's rays. Kids were playing on the sidewalks and people were walking their dogs or pushing strollers. Everyone just seemed so... happy. Content.

Maybe he should get a dog.

Maybe he should start with a fish, first.

He jumped on the highway and cruised with one hand on the steering wheel. Hank Williams crooned from the radio and Joel took a deep, relaxing breath. He was coming up on the exit for the mall. Sarah loved dragging him to the mall. A smile played on his lips and he figured why not.

He veered off the highway and slowed when he approached the red light, the mall parking lot straight ahead. It didn't look terribly busy. With the weather as nice as it was, he imagined most people would be spending their time outside.

Joel found a good spot right out front. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked inside through the Macy's. A blast of freezing cold air conditioning hit him like a ton of bricks, cooling the sweat that was collecting on the back of his neck. He managed to make his way through the maze of the department store and entered the mall itself. There were a few groups of girls around Sarah's age giggling and carrying shopping bags and the random couple here or there walking into William Sonoma or Brookstone.

When he passed by the food court, he saw a few solitary older men sipping coffee and reading the paper or people watching. Joel huffed under his breath, wondering who on earth would come to the mall just to read a paper until he realized he was no better.

Was he going to become just like them one day? Would he come to the mall to nurse a coffee just so he wouldn't feel so alone? The thought had his throat closing up.

He paused and leaned against a railing overlooking the bottom floor of the mall, pretending to be looking for someone when in reality he was struggling to breathe. His heart was fluttering too fast in his chest and his vision was narrowing.

"Shit," he whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus on taking deep breaths. It was like reality crashed down around him all at once: Sarah was moved out of the house. Tommy was happily married. And Joel was going to die all alone.

He gasped and blinked, trying to clear his head and mentally talk himself down, but it was no use. He leaned forward a bit to rest his forehead on the cool, stainless steel railing but his knees began to buckle. Just when he thought he would need to stop someone and beg them to call an ambulance, he heard someone say his name, temporarily snapping him out of his daze.

"Are you okay?" you asked, the smile slipping from your face when you noticed how flush he looked. He could only manage to shake his head. Without hesitating, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him stand, then glanced around. Spotting an empty bench, you led him over and helped him sit. You rubbed your palm over his upper back soothingly and sat next to him, reminding him to breathe deeply until his vision cleared and he felt his strength return.

"Christ," he mumbled. He sat up and leaned back so the back of his head rested on the bench and stretched his long legs out. "Thank you," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"No problem," you said, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Or, no. I don't know," he sighed, dropping his hand from his face. "I think it just hit me all at once."

You slid over on the bench to give him more room. "What hit you all at once?"

"That my little girl is growin' up and -" he stopped himself, the words and I'm all alone getting trapped in his throat. "And I just miss her, is all."

You slowly nodded and glanced around the mall. "What does she like?"

He smiled. "Clothes. Music. Makeup. Books."

"What kind of books?"

"The fantasy kind. Y'know, like Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter."

A huge grin spread across your face. "Follow me, I have an idea," you said, standing up and looking down at him before you realized you might have overstepped. "I mean, unless you're-"

"No, let's go," he replied, standing up and stretching out an arm for you to lead the way. He fell in step next to you as you led him down towards the other end of the mall and after a few minutes, he realized where you were leading him.

"The bookstore?"

"Yep," you said cheerily, shooting him a playful grin. "Trust me."

And he did.

"There's some really incredible series out there right now. Why don't we pick one out, you can read it and share it with her so you guys have something to do together from a distance? Do you know if she's read The Word of the Heir? That's by an incredibly talented author who actually got the idea when she was only seven years old," you told him excitedly, leading him deep into the bookstore, dodging tables and displays until you made it to the fantasy section. Joel slowed down and looked around, his panic attack slipping further and further from his mind.

"Uh, I ain't sure," he replied as you held up the book. You tucked it under your arm and began to look again.

"How about Empire of Kings? I haven't read that one but the author is relatively new and I've heard he's an extremely talented storyteller."

Joel shrugged, again unsure what Sarah may or may not have read. All of the titles sounded so foreign to him until his eyes landed on the spine of a thick, hardcover book.

"Oh, this one sounds familiar," he said, plucking it from the shelf. "The Crimson Stone. I think she wanted to read this but I don't think she ever finished it. It's a series-"

"Yeah, I know that one," you told him quietly. He glanced down at the book again and read the author's name.

"Daniel Davis, ain't this the guy who died in that bad wreck downtown?" Joel mumbled as he flipped the book over in his hands to read the back. You nodded. "Maybe I'll get this one."

"Don't waste your money, I can give it to you for free," you said, gently taking it from his hands. You ran your palm distractedly over the cover before flipping it open and looking at the tiny black and white photo of the author on the inside jacket. "This was my fiancé," you added, your voice thick. Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Shit," he mumbled. "I-I'm sorry, his name just sounded familiar, I remember it from the paper..." he trailed off, floundering for what to say to comfort you. Why couldn't he fucking think?

"It's okay," you told him, waving him off, but the guilt still laid heavy in his chest. "There's no way you would have known." You slowly closed the book, giving the picture one more glance, and handed it back to him. "But really, if you want to read them I have tons of copies just sitting around. He had a few other books outside of this series, as well, if you guys wanted them."

Joel's eyebrows knit together. "I don't wanna take your books. They gotta have sentimental value or somethin'."

"No, seriously, I have boxes of them just sitting there. He was in the middle of signing copies for readings he was supposed to do before-" you stopped yourself and cleared your throat. "Anyway. I can bring them to group next week or you can come by the house and look through them yourself if you like."

Joel nodded and nervously chewed the inside of his cheek. "Do you wanna talk 'bout it?"

You looked up at him then, all wide eyed and filled with so much sadness that it made his chest ache. No one so young and pretty should have to go through so much pain. Your eyes drifted over his face for a moment, quietly studying him before responding. "Yeah. I kind of do."

Joel looked over his shoulder and spotted the café across from the bookstore. "You wanna get a coffee and find a quiet bench or somethin'?"

"That sounds nice," you replied, so he put the books back on the shelf and walked out into the mall. He spotted a bench near an empty storefront and he told you to go have a seat with the promise of bringing you back something to drink. There wasn't a line at the counter. He couldn't imagine many people wanted coffee that late in the day, so it only took a few minutes before the barista slid the two cups of black coffee across the counter and he met you back at the bench.

"Black, right?"

You smiled and gingerly took the cup. "Yeah, how did you know?"

"From group the other day," he replied, then sat down with a grunt. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, each of you letting your coffees cool before you spoke.

"I usually don't talk about it. Every week I tell myself I'm gonna go up to that podium and pour my heart out and every week I chicken out."

Joel didn't say a word. He learned early on with Sarah when she was upset, she just wanted someone to listen to her. So that's exactly what he did. He sipped his coffee and just listened. And before you even realized it, you were telling him everything.

You began by telling him Daniel was from Austin but you met in Portland, where you grew up. For a while, the two of you tried doing a long-distance relationship, but once you were finished with school you took him up on the offer to move in with him in Texas. Shortly thereafter, he proposed and you had spent the last year of his life planning your dream wedding. The night of the accident, you had been touring a venue an hour outside the city. It was dark when you finished up and drove back home.

Daniel didn't do anything wrong. You insisted Joel knew that first.

A truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and ran a light, completely crushing the driver's side and killing Daniel instantly. Somehow, you had only come out of the accident with a small concussion and a badly bruised chest from the seatbelt.

"Jesus," Joel muttered when you exhaled a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, darlin'. That's some fucked up shit." His eyes widened and he straightened up in his seat. "Shit, sorry for cursin'... twice." He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably and a slow smile spread across your face. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you burst out laughing.

"Thank you," you said in between giggles. He grinned, confused but happy you were laughing and not crying. "I needed that. And you're right, it was some fucked up shit."

Joel chuckled and took a sip from his coffee. He heard his phone ring so he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen before silencing the call and putting his phone away.

"You can take it," you said, wiping a stray tear from your eye and jutting your chin towards his phone.

"Just my brother. I'll call him back later."

"Ah, the infamous brother that made you go to group?"

"The very same."

"Younger or older?"

"Younger, but the way he bosses me 'round you'd never know it," Joel said with a grin.

"He's probably just looking out for you."

"He knows I'm feelin' especially lonely without Sarah. Sarah's my daughter, by the way," he said, pulling his phone out and showing you his lock screen: it was a selfie of him and Sarah on the beach, Joel looked red as a lobster and Sarah's hair looked tangled from the wind but there was no denying the happiness in both their eyes.

"She's beautiful," you said warmly. He smiled and put his phone away.

"Got that from her mama."

"I don't know, I see a little bit of you in her smile," you teased, bumping up against his shoulder playfully. He rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

"What I'm tryin' to say is, I can relate a bit to what you're goin' through. Y'know, losin' a partner and feelin' like you got no one left," he said. You took a deep breath.

"Yeah, sounds like you do."

Joel nervously picked at his jeans, trying to figure out the right way to say what he wanted to say without sounding like an old creep, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke first.

"Maybe we can hang out together and keep each other company?" you offered. He turned his head and grinned.

"I was 'bout to suggest the same thing."

"Really?" you asked, looking as relieved as he felt. He nodded.

"Sounds like we both could use a friend."

Something in your expression shifted. It was too quick. He couldn't pinpoint it but whatever it was disappeared, leaving behind a genuine smile.

"I would really like that, Joel."

"What the hell? You couldn't call me back yesterday?" Tommy scolded when he marched into the small, messy office the following morning. Joel glanced up from behind his desk; papers, a calculator and a pencil scattered about in front of him. He took his reading glasses off with a sigh, abandoning his work. He hated doing the administrative part of his job. He always preferred to be on site or meeting with clients.

"I was busy."

"Busy?" Tommy repeated before collapsing in the worn out chair across from him.

"Yeah, busy. I was... with a friend," Joel mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant but Tommy's ears perked up.

"A friend? Who?"

Joel shrugged. "Someone I met at that group you made me go to."

Tommy's eyes lit up. "Hey, that's great. See? I knew it'd be good for you. What's his name?"

Joel pursed his lips before softly saying your name and Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"A woman? That's even better, Joel."

"It ain't like that-"

"'Course not," Tommy said, "I'm just sayin' it's a step in the right direction."

"She's too young," Joel said defensively, giving Tommy pause.

"Okay..."

"We're just friends. She ain't from 'round here, ain't got anyone in Texas."

Tommy frowned as he watched Joel shift uncomfortably in his chair, wondering what made his brother get so sensitive, so he chose to tread lightly.

"So you're keepin' each other company. That's nice."

"Yeah," Joel said, standing up with a grunt and rubbing his lower back before he snatched his coat from the wall. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," Tommy said, standing to follow Joel out of the office. While he locked the door behind him, Tommy couldn't help but ask, "How young is too young?"

"Thirty-one," Joel replied, fishing the keys out of his pocket.

Tommy shrugged, falling in step next to his brother as they walked towards the parking lot. "Sounds like an adult to me," he muttered, but Joel chose to ignore it. "When are you seein' her again?"

"End of the week," Joel replied before climbing into the truck.

"Friday?"

"Yeah, after work. We were gonna order some dinner and look through some books she's tryin' to get rid of."

The corner of Tommy's mouth twitched. "So, like a date?"

"It ain't a date," Joel said firmly, his jaw set as he pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive in the direction of the first worksite. "She's mourin' the loss of her husband, it's not a date."

"Husband?" Tommy repeated, then Joel shook his head, growing flustered.

"Fiancé. Not husband."

"When did he pass?"

Joel thought back to what you told him the night you first met. "A year ago."

Tommy hummed and looked out the window, tapping his fingers against the car door in rhythm with the beat from the radio. Joel side eyed him while they sat in silence for a few minutes before he rolled his eyes and sighed. "What?" Joel asked with an edge to his voice.

"A year's a long time, is all."

"She's in grief therapy, Tommy. She's in pain and tryin' to come to terms with it. Quit makin' it sound like somethin' it ain't."

"Just 'cause she's in grief therapy don't mean she ain't ready to move on-"

"Goddamnit, this is the last time I tell you anythin'," Joel grumbled as he made a left hand turn. Tommy hid a smile behind his hand and looked out the window.

"Alright, no need to get all defensive on me now."

Joel opened his mouth to argue but quickly snapped it shut. The more he pushed back just gave Tommy more ammunition. Besides, he knew the truth. You were looking for a friend, someone who could relate to what you were going through. There was absolutely no way you were interested in a man twenty years older than you. The thought was so absurd it almost made him laugh. You were young and beautiful and charming and you had your whole life ahead of you.

No, surely Tommy was wrong.

When Joel pulled up to your house, his eight year old truck the noisiest thing on the whole block, he let out a low whistle and threw it into park, deciding at the last second to keep his car on the street for fear of leaving an oil stain or something on your pristine concrete driveway. He sat in his truck for a moment, taking in the monumental Victorian house before him. He recognized it from his youth, but back then the siding was chipped and the windows were foggy, in desperate need of replacing. He always admired houses like yours and part of his heart broke whenever he saw one fall into such a state of disrepair that it was beyond saving, but not yours. No, at some point in the past ten years, the house was upgraded but managed to maintain the original charm.

There was fresh siding and new windows installed, the insides framed in what looked like delicate lace curtains, complimenting the style of the house. The roof looked like it had been replaced and the front door looked new, but the original architecture remained. He could easily tell whoever bought the house took great care with it, and the contractor in him breathed a sigh of relief that it didn't fall into the wrong hands, or god forbid, a flipper.

When he walked up your driveway towards the small stone path that led to your front door, he slowed to look at the garden that flourished in front of the wraparound porch. It was a beautiful mix of wildflowers and hedges, and while wildflowers had a tendency to look messy and unkept, you somehow managed to make it look neat and well put together. Fat, fuzzy bumblebees bounced drunkenly from flower to flower and as he climbed the wooden steps, a hummingbird buzzed past his ear, spooked by his presence.

He pressed the button to your doorbell, noting you chose not to install one of those camera doorbells and for some reason, that bothered him. Normally he wasn't a huge fan of technology, but you were all alone in this big house. You needed to be safe, to be careful. Your house was in a nice neighborhood, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

The door swung open and you greeted him barefoot with a warm smile before stepping aside to let him in. You were wearing a loose tshirt that hung off one shoulder and he chastised himself when his eyes traveled down your tight fitting jeans to your ass as he followed you into your home.

He shrugged his reaction off to just typical male instinct and forced his focus onto the lovely foyer surrounding him as he slid off his boots. Polished cherry wainscoting lined the walls and his eyes widened when he noticed the small tiles in the shape of little octagons below his feet.

"Is this original?" he asked you in disbelief as he pointed to the ground. Your gaze followed his finger and you nodded.

"We tried to keep everything original, if we could," you explained.

"Wow," he breathed as he stepped forward into the hallway, his eyes unable to keep up with how fast his brain was operating. His gaze slid over the original hardwood floors of the hallway, fresh wallpaper, and wide, polished staircase with a plush carpet installed in the center of the steps. Much to his delight, you chose to furnish the house to match the style, as well. Antique fixtures hung from the ceiling and a real wood table was pushed against the wall. A small lamp sat on top with a stained glass Tiffany shade, and next to it was a pile of mail and a framed photograph he tried not to examine too closely out of respect.

"This way," you said over your shoulder, and he followed you blindly deeper into the house. You pushed open a swinging door that led into your kitchen, and for the first time since arriving, his nose was the first of his senses to respond instead of his eyes.

It smelled absolutely heavenly. He had no idea what you were cooking but his mouth instantly watered at the smell of garlic and salt and some kind of meat.

He swallowed and hoped his stomach wouldn't growl and embarrass him.

"Thought we were gonna order somethin'?" he asked as he watched you hurry over to the stove to stir something.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but I felt like cooking," you replied without looking. He glanced around the room, noticing you chose to update the counters and cabinets to look more modern, but kept the original flooring.

"Mind? Are you kiddin' me? Haven't had anythin' decent to eat since Sarah left for college."

Memories of fast food drive thrus and frozen dinners flashed before his eyes as he watched you turn off the burners on the stove. You opened a cupboard and stretched on your tiptoes to reach a bowl, the hem of your shirt riding up ever so slightly and revealing a small sliver of skin on your back and suddenly, his mouth was watering for an entirely different reason.

Stop it.

"Need some help?" he offered, and you fell back onto the flats of your feet, shooting him a nod and smile. He didn't mean to, but he reached up from behind you for the serving bowl, his front brushing gently against your back, and your shoulders tensed. Shit.

"Sorry, here ya go," he said, handing you the bowl and immediately giving you some space, not catching the glimmer of disappointment in your eyes.

"Thank you," you murmured shyly. He watched you spoon vegetables into the bowl for a moment, grabbing random jars of seasoning and sprinkling them on top before stirring it up, and he finally remembered his manners.

"Can I help?"

"No, no, I got it," you insisted, waving him toward a door on the other side of the kitchen. "Go sit down, I'll be right out."

He wandered over to the propped open door and entered your dining room. Pausing for a moment, he admired the chandelier above the table that looked old but the brass had been polished and the crystals cleaned. The drop ceiling was even remarkable: squares of textured patterns that repeated across the whole room, adding a whole other layer of elegance to the already impressive first floor. His eyes drifted to the dark wood table, where two spots were already set across from each other. He pulled out a chair and sat down, shifting his weight a bit and noting the chairs must have been recently reupholstered based on how firm the cushion was underneath him. You breezed in after him, hardly giving him enough time to take in the elaborate fireplace and mantle at the end of the room, and began to set down plates of food. His eyes bugged out of his head when he saw fresh, fried chicken and whipped mashed potatoes.

"You didn't have to go through all the trouble," he assured you, but you smirked at the way he stared at the chicken, the aroma from the breading overpowering his senses.

"It wasn't any trouble, I like to cook," you replied, disappearing into the kitchen to grab the vegetables and a basket of fresh rolls before finally joining him at the table.

Joel spread the cloth napkin over his lap, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from devouring everything in sight. He glanced up at you and you grinned.

"Go ahead, help yourself."

You watched with a small smile on your face as he loaded up his plate, then played with your own food until he took his first bite of chicken. He froze, his mouth full, and stared at you in awe before he dropped the chicken leg on his plate and leaned back, a deep, appreciative moan rumbling from his chest, making your thighs squeeze together under the table.

"Goddamn," he said once he swallowed. "That's the best fried chicken I've ever had in my entire life, darlin'."

You giggled and finally took a dainty bite of your own before nodding in agreement. "It's not bad."

Joel scoffed and took another bite. "Don't sell yourself short, now. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout. What'd you put in this?"

He listened, completely enraptured, as you explained how you soaked the chicken in buttermilk the day before and all of the seasonings you used in the breading.

"Oh! I almost forgot the lemonade," you said, standing back up and rushing into the kitchen, returning with two cold glasses and setting them down on the placemats. He nodded his thanks, mouth still full, and you giggled again.

You were already planning on packing up all the leftovers so he could take it home, but you still encouraged him to have as much as he wanted while it was warm and fresh.

"Did you make the rolls, too?" he asked after he took a bite.

You laughed and shook your head. "No, I'm not that good. I bought them this morning from a local bakery I like around the corner."

You had finished your meal long before he did, watching with your chin in your palm as he went back for seconds, reveling in the noises and compliments he made with practically each bite.

"Here, have some more," you told him, nudging the plate of chicken in his direction, but he leaned back in the chair and shook his head. "I can't, but everythin' was delicious. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm thrilled to cook for someone again," you replied with a sad smile before standing up and picking up your plate. He immediately stood and began to collect the rest, but you waved him back down.

"Sit, sit, I still have dessert," you told him, and based on the way he looked at you in that moment you would have put money down that he could be knocked over with a feather.

"Oh, darlin', you did too much," he replied, immediately flooding with guilt that he didn't even bring wine or flowers.

"Stop! I told you, I like doing it and I never get a chance to anymore, so please, sit down and I'll be right back."

Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and, while listening to you in the kitchen, peered out the back window at the meticulously kept grounds. Your house, like you, was absolutely beautiful. It felt like stumbling across an oasis in the middle of the desert.

You reappeared in the dining room with a bowl of diced, sugared strawberries and a plate of warm biscuits. He watched in stunned silence as you fixed him a plate, spooning the strawberries on top of a fresh shortcake, but told him to wait a moment before hurrying back into the kitchen and returning with a small bowl of homemade whipped cream.

Joel thought he died and went to heaven.

He could tell you didn't want to hear him complain that it was too much, so instead he lavished your baking with praise and thanks, both of which seemed to make your eyes shine bright and your lips remain curled into a smile the whole time.

"You're taking the leftovers home, too," you warned him once you finally allowed him to help bring things back into the kitchen. You were packing everything up nice and neat in matching Tupperware containers and stacking everything into a paper bag. As much as he wanted to decline, he really wanted your leftovers more, so he continued to thank you as he began to wash the dishes in your farmhouse sink. You had tried to fight him on it, but he finally wore you down and won. Stubborn little thing, he thought.

After dinner was cleaned up, you led him back down the hall and up the wide staircase, explaining that the books were all housed in a den at the top of the stairs, but when you opened the door to the room, den seemed like too small a word for it.

It was gorgeous, plain and simple. The cherry wainscoting continued in this room with a dark green wallpaper to accent the wood. All along the wall were antique sconces lighting up floor to ceiling bookcases stuffed full of literature. On the back wall was a large, heavy looking desk with a wingback velvet chair. The desk itself had books and papers scattered about, as if someone were in the middle of something and was rudely interrupted, but based on the layer of dust, he had to imagine nobody had sat there in some time.

And then it hit him: this was your fiancé's office.

A laptop sat open and turned off on the corner of the desk, along with a dusty printer behind the chair on the carpeted floor. He noticed what had to have been manuscripts of some kind based on the lack of coverings on the bound papers piling up next to the printer.

He was an author. This is where he worked.

That was when Joel realized you had been suspiciously quiet. He turned towards you, his eyes scanning your face, studying it. Your arms were wrapped around your middle as you stared blankly at the desk.

"We don't gotta do this today," he said softly, snapping you out of your reverie.

"No, it's okay," you replied, your voice so small it nearly broke his heart. You turned and walked toward the corner of the room, opposite the desk, where a small couch and coffee table sat. A few cardboard boxes were stacked nearby, two of which remained unopened, one recklessly torn into. You started with that one.

"Here," you said, pulling out a few books and handing them out. He stepped forward and took them, looking down at the covers and the beautiful artwork that adorned them. "These are the first trilogy, you should probably read them first before the next. They're different stories but they inevitably weave together so it'll make more sense if you-" you paused, your voice getting caught in your throat, and that's when he realized you had been fighting back tears.

"Hey, it's okay," he told you gently, putting the books down on the coffee table and carefully touching your shoulder, urging you to sit on the couch. After a moment's hesitation, you did, and he sat beside you. "This was too fast. I'll leave these here and maybe one day, when you're feelin' up to it, we can try again."

You looked up at him, eyes watering, and shook your head.

"No, take these now. I have more, I have tons, actually," you said, nodding towards the unopened boxes. "I just haven't come in here since he died and I didn't think it would be this hard." You wiped furiously at your cheeks, trying to hide your anguish.

Joel's heart thundered in his chest. He rubbed your back, trying to offer you a glimmer of comfort while he glanced around the room. "Maybe it was too soon," he offered again.

"No, it's been a year, Joel. I needed to do this." You took a deep breath and gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you. I know this is probably more than you expected-"

"Nah, hey, none of that, now," he cooed, mindlessly petting your hair. "If you needed someone to be here for this, I'm glad you picked me, okay?"

You sniffled and nodded, quietly thanking him again before taking another deep breath and exhaling with a nervous laugh as you looked around the room with him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"'Course," he replied.

"How long did it take for you to move on after your wife passed?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about it, his fingers still playing with the ends of your soft hair as he slowly rubbed your back. "Well, hard to say. She was sick for a long time so I think I had time to come to terms with it before she died, y'know?" You nodded and listened to him, hanging on his every word and inadvertently leaning into his gentle touch. "Then I had Sarah to worry 'bout and, I don't know, time just... passed me by." He chuckled dryly for a moment before continuing. "My brother thinks I never got over it, Sarah thinks I never processed it, but they only think that 'cause I never dated anyone else."

Your eyes widened in surprise at his confession.

"Never?"

He shook his head and gave you a lopsided grin. "Been busy, I guess."

"But aren't you... lonely?"

He sucked in a sharp breath and cast his gaze to the floor. How did you manage to see right through him so quickly? Was it the common ground or something else?

"Wasn't too bad til Sarah left," he admitted, "but now... yeah. Yeah, it's lonely."

You scanned his face, watching the flicker of sadness in his eyes he tried to hide from you, and you inched a bit closer.

"I'm glad we found each other, Joel," you whispered. His eyes found yours again and he smiled.

"Me, too, sweetheart."

Then, without giving it another thought, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips. It was so tender and soft it felt like he was on the bus in fifth grade and Christine Murphy was giving him his fist kiss all over again while kids in nearby seats teased them with sing-song voices.

You pulled back and looked into his eyes, searching for any hesitation but all you must have seen was confusion because you leaned forward again, kissing him with a little more emotion, your small hand coming up to cup his greying, prickly jaw. You tasted like strawberries and lemonade and you smelled like vanilla and it was making every neuron in his brain fire all at the same time, to the point where his body had no idea what to do but remain frozen.

It was when your tongue first slipped past your lips and flicked nervously over the seam of his mouth that he finally came crashing down to earth. He sat back, breaking the kiss and holding you by the shoulders, staring deeply into your eyes. You were both panting slightly, probably from the excitement and adrenaline, as he tried to figure out what to say, what to do. You were in a fragile state, he decided. You made a mistake, the moment got away from you both and it didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. You were too young and sweet and beautiful. You didn't really want anything to do with an old man like him. He just happened to be there when you were vulnerable and that was all.

The words never came. He couldn't form a coherent sentence. As the seconds dragged on, your face began to fall and embarrassment flooded your chest, the atmosphere in the room suddenly so thick that it was difficult to breathe. You cleared your throat and leaned back, his hands falling from your shoulders, and then you were the first to speak.

"Oh, no."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #comfort Joel #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #the last of us au #joel miller au #joel miller angst #Joel miller grief #the last of us angst #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #evergreen fic #Joel pov

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breannasfluff · 3 months ago

Text

Running the flower store is a nice break. Danny’s got to do a bit more math than expected–no, Mr. Lancer, that doesn’t mean percentages were useful–but Harleen didn’t lie about the job. He sells the odd book, waters the plants, and moves the bouquets in and out of the flower fridge.

On the second day, someone comes whirling into the shop, slamming the door behind him.

“Hi, can I help you?” Danny has on his best customer service face.

The guy spins around and does a double-take like he wasn’t expecting to see Danny. “Who are you?”

“I work here. Are you looking for a book or flowers?”

The guy has dark hair, almost black with a hint of brown in the sun and blue eyes. He’s bulky enough that he likely works out. Laugh lines are starting at the corner of his eyes. “Where’s Harleen?”

“She’s on vacation for a few days. I’m watching the store for her in her absence.” Danny can’t help but tense, keeping a sharp eye on the stranger. What if he intends to rob the store? Danny’s got his taser, but that won’t help from behind a counter. Subtly, he reaches for intangibility, keeping it ready on a moment’s notice. He’s not about to get shot–again.

“I’m Dick,” the guy says. “Sorry about the interrogation. It’s just…Harleen never takes a vacation. She must trust you to watch the shop.”

Danny shrugs because he really has no connection with the girl. “It’s just a job. Can I help you with anything else?” He’d really prefer Dick finish his maybe-or-maybe not legitimate business and leave.

“Right!” Dick swings back to look at the rest of the store. “I am going to see my friend later, it can’t hurt to bring some flowers. Got a suggestion?”

Normally, Danny would join the customers as they look at flowers, offering what suggestions he can. Now, he stays firmly behind the till. “The daisies are a nice pop of color. We have a few bouquets of dry flowers if you want something that lasts longer.”

Dick hums and considers the flowers. “Maybe the daisies.”

Danny rings him up, still keeping an eye on Dick. “I’ll let Harleen know you dropped by looking for her.”

“I’d appreciate it. Do you know when she’ll be back?”

He does, but there’s no way he’s telling. Who knows why Dick wants to know–if that’s even his name? “She’ll be back soon.” He defaults to his blandest smile.

Dick wilts slightly under it, pulling the daisies toward him. “Okay, thanks. See you later.”

Not if Danny can help it. Maybe he should stay late tonight, just to make sure the guy doesn’t come back and try to break in. Explaining how he fended off a burglary might be a little difficult, but Harleen doesn’t deserve to have her shop trashed. And if she’s a friend of Pam’s, then she can be an acquaintance–friend?–of Danny’s.

Harleen laughs so hard she’s wheezing when Danny warns her about “Dick” and his off-vibes.

“I’m guessing you know him,” he says, giving her a scowl. He’s been practicing his scowls. Batman’s famous for them.

“Do I ever!” Harleen cackles, half lying across her counter. Finally, she hauls herself up with a grin. “No wonder Pam likes you.”

“Couldn’t let this place get robbed.”

“You did good, Dan, don’t worry. I appreciate you watchin out for the store.” She glances around at the plants and books with a soft smile. “This place is my baby. It’s nice to just have a…normal job. I’m laughin because Dicky is probably the most harmless person to come into this store and you clocked him as a robber.”

Danny sniffs and looks away. He’s learned to listen to his instincts and his instincts said that guy was Trouble with a capital T. Maybe it’s the kind of trouble Harleen likes, but he’s not about to get mixed up in it.

Read the rest here!

#What Binds Us #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #poison ivy #dick grayson #richard grayson #danny phantom #danny fenton #harleen quinzel #harley quinn #batman #dcu #breannasfluff #my writing

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sturnioz · 4 months ago

Note

shy!reader maybe one day after watching fratboy!chris roll a couple of joints asking if he could teach her how to roll one just for shits and giggles (obvs not so she can smoke cause we all know he won’t let her) and her nailing it the first time cause she’s got smaller fingers than him and he’s like “wait why the fuck are you good at that”

"can you teach me how to do that?" your voice barely rises above a whisper, soft and quiet, as you watch chris expertly roll a few joints beside you. he pauses licking the edge of the paper, and turns to meet your gaze, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"what? to roll?" he asks in disbelief. he twists the end of the joint, scoffing as he leans back against the sofa, the fabric creaking beneath him. "wh... why?"

"please?" you urge, your heart racing as you gently tug at his arm. "i just wanna do something... get bored watching you all the time..."

"get bored watchin' me," chris echoes, another scoff leaving his lips as he adjusts his posture, a smirk creeping onto his face. "ha.. 'kay. alright."

you expect him to completely ignore you, but to your surprise, his expression shifts slightly as he nods to himself, pushing his supplies towards you — his papers, a baggy of weed, and some filters.

you grin happily, excitement bubbling inside you at the thought of chris finally allowing you to do something like this. it feels surreal that he's giving in, but you don't want to waste any time fucking around. with eager hands, you reach for the supplies, your heart racing with anticipation.

following his mumbled instructions, you feel his chin resting lightly on your shoulder as he watches you intently. his eyes flit to your hands, watching how you evenly distribute the weed across the length of the paper, and he hums softly in approval, making your heart soar at the subtle praise.

your tongue pokes out in concentration as you add the filter and roll the paper with your nimble fingers — it's a process you've watched chris do countless times before, and you rely on the mental image in your head, carefully twisting the end to secure everything inside, then proudly presenting the final result to him.

chris stares at the joint, perplexed. his chin digs into your shoulder a little harder as he blinks at your handywork, then reaches out to take it from your grasp, inspecting it closely with his eyebrows raised.

"how did... what the fuck, kid?" chris murmurs, surprise lacing his tone. "you... nah, why're you s'good at that? huh? someone else been teachin' you this shit?"

"no," you giggle, a rush of pride filling you, extremely pleased with yourself. "i just watch you all the time."

"its uh... its not bad, kid. you did... yeah," chris clears his throat, tongue prodding at his cheek as if he's struggling to find the right words to say after your reveal. he lays the joint down on the coffee table, lifting his chin off your shoulder to meet your gaze directly. "yeah... good job."

#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris #☆ shy!reader #꒰ fratboy!chris x shy!reader prompt ꒱

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livwritessometimes · 10 days ago

Note

Can you please do a part 2 to “a footnote will do (for me)” with Charles Leclerc?

Perhaps, something like this: She moves on with someone else (one date), and he sees them, gets jealous and chases her. Apologising and grovelling all the way till they make up?

I loved that fix but it was heartbreaking

If The World Was Ending

: Charles Leclerc x Reader

: If the world was ending, you'd come over, right?

: Part 1

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - Here you go! Hope this heals the heartbreak from part 1 :)

...

I was distracted And in traffic I didn't feel it When the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' Were you out drinkin'? Were you in the living room Chillin' watchin' television

It's funny how life works—why is it that when you're in a rush, you find yourself stuck in endless traffic. Charles let out a sigh; he was exhausted. The past few months had not been the best for him. The season was finally over; he should have been out there relaxing but all Charles could think about was how they lost the constructor's championship. He knows it's not his fault—not entirely, at least—but he couldn't help letting his mind wander. Things had been good for a while; the constant hustle bustle had made his life better. The calm now left him with too much time on his hands to think. It had left him with time to think about his brother's engagement. He still remembers how happy he was the day he got the call from Enzo. It gave him time to think about Arthur—how he got to race with his little brother by his side. That memory brought a smile to Charles' face. It also gave him time to think about Alex; his Alex. Before he could think of anything else, Charles was brought back into reality by his phone ringing. It was her.

"Hey, I was just think-" Charles said before he got cut off by Alex.

"Are you okay?" She asked, voice a little panicky.

"What-ya of course, why?" He questioned, confused by her sudden panic.

"We just had an earthquake, did you not feel it?" She questioned.

"Oh...no not really. I'm stuck in traffic, i didn't feel much," Charles answered.

"Oh good! Alright, I'll see you soon, yeah?" She asked.

"Ya, I'll be there in 15, hopefully," Charles said before he hung up.

Setting his phone down, Charles looked out of the window once again, waiting for the traffic to clear up. As he waited, his mind went to one person—someone who had been on his mind for a while now. He knows he shouldn't think about her, he has a girlfriend and she has a boyfriend—or at least that's what he assumes based on what Arthur had said. Charles had no business thinking about Y/n. It was his fault they drifted apart. Had he not completely ignored Y/n after her confession, they would still be in touch like they used to be, instead of become strangers who only see each other now at big celebrations.

Finally free from the traffic, Charles made his way towards his house. It was a Friday, which got him thinking: Was she out drinking? He wondered if Y/n felt the earthquake. Or was she at home, chilling and watching television with her new boyfriend? As much as he did not want to admit, the thought of that left a bitter taste in his mouth. Which was weird, because Charles was clearly happy with Alex. Why would the though of Y/n being happy with someone else hurt his heart? Not wanting to think further about this, Charles finally got out of his car and headed towards his apartment, to his girlfriend and dog waiting for his arrival.

It's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to let you go and let communication die out

Life was different now for Y/n. She had different goals, and different priorities. It's funny how so much can change in the span of a few months. Y/n had moved to a different house, one that was closer to her best friend, Arthur. She liked this house a lot better than her last; good lighting, a great neighborhood, and living super close to your closest friend—what more could she ask for? However, the real reason why Y/n liked this house so much was that it was in a location far away from him. She wouldn't have to worry about bumping into him every time she'd make a grocery run or go to her favourite coffee shop. Things had been good. She hadn't thought about him in a long time. It's weird how quickly you can go from talking everyday to barely seeing each other at all these days. Y/n preferred it this way. It honestly felt like a year had passed since she'd last seen Charles' face in person. Of course she still saw him on TV, but it just wasn't the same. Y/n even started seeing someone, all thanks to Arthur. This guy was good and clearly into her. It felt nice to finally be wanted. After chasing something for so long with no result, it was refreshing to feel wanted. Y/n figured that if she gave this guy a chance, maybe that would be her ticket to forgetting about Charles. And so far, it had worked. Y/n finally felt like she could move past what had happened between her and Charles. She had finally figured out how to let him go.

I know, you know, we know, You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

Y/n stood in the kitchen, helping out Arthur's girlfriend with the snacks. It had been Arthur's idea to host a game night after watching a couple of reels about college kids hosting annual game night. 'I'm starting a family tradition,' is what he'd said when he invited Y/n and her boyfriend to his house. Rolling her eyes at the memory, she looked at the man in question, laughing at something Y/n's boyfriend had said. Slowly, she trailed her eyes to the left towards, the older Leclerc, only to find him already looking at her. Y/n quickly turned her head and focused on what Jade was talking about. Even though she had moved on, seeing him still felt strange. Every time she looked at Charles, she saw the face of the man she had loved at one point in time. It was also the face of the man who had rejected her. But that's okay now. She had accepted that they weren't meant for each other, even if it was a hard pill to swallow.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant

Hours had passed, and the entire group was now sprawled in different corners of the living room. They had spent the last few hours playing a variety of games, which had led to several heated arguments between the Leclerc brothers. Who would have thought they could get so competitive over board games? The night slowly died down and Enzo was the first one to leave. Arthur had dragged Y/n's boyfriend into a different room to show him something she didn't care enough to pay attention to. Making her way outside, she could see Alex and Jade in the kitchen cleaning up the aftermath of such intense game night. As she stared outside, she felt a presence next to her, followed by a soft, 'Hey'. Turning slightly towards the sound, she found Charles standing next to her, staring at the sky. "Hey," she murmured, glancing back ahead. "It's been a while...," said Charles, his gaze fixed on her. "It has. How have you been?" Y/n asked, keeping her eyes ahead, avoiding eye contact. "I've been good, I think," Charles said, his voice a bit uncertain. "How have you been? I see you're dating someone new now," He added, a hint of bitterness laced in his tone. Turning to face him, Y/n said, "Yeah, I have. He's a good guy. In fact, Arthur was the one who introduced us." Charles felt betrayed. How could he not, his own brother was responsible for this. "How is Alex? Oh, and how can I forget about little Leo?" She added. Upon her question, Charles glanced towards the kitchen where Alex was laughing at something Jade had said. He should feel happy—he has a girlfriend who loves him; he should be over the moon. Yet, for some reason, his mind wandered back to the lady in front of him. He could see the sincerity in her eyes—it was the same as when she had first offered him a lift to Arthur's party. The moon cast a soft glow on her face, and it took everything in Charles to not reach out and caress her cheek. Y/n raised an eyebrow at Charles, waiting for him to answer her. "Oh, yeah, things have been good. They're good," Charles said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good," Y/n replied, watching as her boyfriend make his way into the living room. "Well, that's my cue. I should get going. It's—it's been nice catching up after such a long time," Y/n smiled at him as she walked into the living room towards her boyfriend. Charles stood there for a moment, watching her leave with her boyfriend. Glancing back at the sky, he muttered to himself, "Good...but not the same without you."

I tried to imagine Your reaction It didn't scare me when the earthquake happened But it really got me thinkin' The night we went drinkin' Stumbled in the house And didn't make it past the kitchen

Y/n slowly made her way to the bathroom, taking off one earring at a time. She felt her boyfriend press a gentle kiss to her forehead before heading off to change his clothes. Staring at the mirror in front of her, she let out a sigh. Tonight was harder than Y/n had expected. Seeing him again shook the very foundation she had spent months building. It baffled her how Charles still held so much power over her. Talking to Charles after such a long time brought back so many memories, but one in particular stood out. She wasn't sure if it was the starry night that had reminded her of that day, or if simply being in Charles' presence had sparked that memory.

*flashback*

It was after a particularly rough Grand Prix that Y/n and Charles found themselves getting absolutely wasted. It was a quiet bar near Y/n's house, one that didn't have many visitors—especially considering it was 3 a.m. Slowly getting up, Y/n stumbled, losing her footing. She fully expected to smack the floor when a strong pair of arms broke her fall and steadied her. "It's okay, I've got you," Charles said as he led her out of the bar towards her house, not once letting go of her. It took them exactly 8 minutes to get the lock to Y/n's door. She remembers it because that's how long Charles kept on hugging her, leaning into her for 'moral support,' as he liked to call it. Slowly the two stumbled into her house. As they walked inside, Charles lost his footing and fell to the floor, pulling a drunk Y/n down with him. Worried, Charles quickly sat up, looking at Y/n to check if she was alright. His worry soon eased as the room was filled with Y/n's laughter. Seeing her laugh, Charles couldn't help but join in. He laid back down besides her, still smiling. "I love you Y/n/n," said Charles as he pulled her in for a hug. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n instantly sobered up when she heard him say those three words. There lay a drunk Charles, happily snuggling with what he assumed to be a drunk Y/n, forgetting about all the worries in the world and just being content lying there with her. Alternatively, there lay Y/n in the arms of the boy she realized she saw as much more than 'just a friend,' thinking if the world were to end tomorrow, she'd be happy to die like this—in his arms.

*present*

Finishing the last step of her nighttime routine, Y/n made her way to her bed, into the arms of her boyfriend. She knew it was wrong; she shouldn't think like this. But one thought lingered in her mind—It's not the same.

Ah. it's been a year now Think I've figured out how How to think about you without it rippin' my heart out

The drive back home was a silent one for Charles and Alex. For the first time in a long time, Charles felt happy. Not once did he think about racing or losing the championship. Not once did the negative thoughts that had plagued his mind for months resurface. He'd like to think it was because of the game night, but no matter how much he wanted that to be true, he knew that wasn't the reason for this happiness. It made him wonder if he had made a mistake—getting together with Alex so quickly, adding Leo into the mix. It made him wonder what would have happened if he had given her a chance, if only he had waited to see how things might play out. Charles thought he had matured. He figured it had been months now, it wouldn't affect him as much. But he was wrong. Even now, after all this time, thinking about her, about them, still breaks his heart.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine If the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over, right? You'd come over, you'd come over, you'd come over, right?

Charles just couldn't fall asleep. No matter how hard he tried, he lay there, in his bed, wide awake. He looked to his side to find Alex passed out with Leo by her feet. As much as he hated to admit, he did not find the sight as comforting as he used to. Looking back at the ceiling, Charles could not bear to let his thoughts run wild for another second. Quickly, he got up and changed into his tracks. He figured a jog would help calm his mind down. And so, that's what he did: he grabbed his keys and made his way out of the house at 2 a.m. for a late-night run.

The second Charles stepped onto the street, he ran. He ran for as long as his feet could take him. After running for what felt like hours, Charles stopped by a park. He took a moment to look at his surroundings and realized he was far away from his neighborhood. Instead, he realized he was much closer to the place he had just come home from a few hours ago—he was near Arthur's neighborhood. Making his way inside the park, Charles spotted someone sitting on one of the benches. As he walked closer, he realized that it was the one person he wanted to get out of his mind. "Y/n?" said Charles in a confused tone. Looking up at the sound, Y/n came face to face with Charles. "Charles! What are you doing here?" She asked, confused by his sudden presence. "I could ask you the same," he paused to look at his watch before continuing, "That too, at 3 a.m.?" Not knowing what to say, Y/n scooted a little, inviting the boy to take a seat next to her. "I couldn't sleep," she said in a quiet voice. For a while, neither of them said anything. The two sat there in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet.

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if things had gone differently?" Charles questioned, breaking the silence. "Huh? Differently, how?" Y/n asked, confused about what the boy in front of her was getting at. Charles knows he shouldn't say it, but he couldn't help himself. In his mind, it was either now or never. "Do you ever wonder if things would have been different, had I—had we, um..." Charles hesitated. "Had we what, Charles?" Y/n asked, now turned, giving him her full attention. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Had we gotten together? Had I reacted differently to your confession? Do you think things would have been different then?" Stunned at his question, Y/n was taken aback. "I don't see the point in bringing this up now, Charles. It doesn't matter anyways," she said, slowly turned away from the boy. In an instant, Charles grabbed her hands, stopping her. "It matters to me, Y/n, please," he pleaded. "I don't know, Charles...I don't know, maybe?" Y/n said. Letting out a sigh, she continued, "Why now, though? Why now, when I have a boyfriend and you have a girlfriend...and a DOG, for fuck's sake." Y/n suddenly felt anger towards the boy. Why was he having these doubts all of a sudden? And why now, of all times? She had finally gotten used to living without constantly having him in the back of her mind. So why now? "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm aware of how wrong all of this is? I tried to forget you. I tried really hard to forget every single thing about you, and for a while, it worked. I was happy; I was so happy with Alex, and then we got Leo. I felt complete...but it only lasted for a while. Every time I had a bad day, you were the first person I thought about calling. Every time I won a race or got a podium, your eyes were the ones I searched for as soon as I got up there. Do you think I wanted this to happen? Do you think I enjoyed breaking your heart back then? I hated myself for the way I reacted," Charles said, finally letting go of every single thing he had been holding onto for such a long time. "WELL THEN WHY DID YOU REACT THAT WAY?" Y/n said, losing her cool after Charles' outburst. "I—I don't know," he said, ashamed of the way he handled things. "I just assumed, if we became a couple, things wouldn't work out, because let's be honest I know my luck—they never do, and then we break up. So, I not only lose you, I also lose a bond that I held so close to my heart," he continued. Y/n was at a loss for words. It felt like a fever dream. All she wanted was for Charles to want her. And now that he did, she wasn't sure what to do. Somehow, amidst all this chaos, Y/n's mind drifted to Alex. She wondered if Alex was aware of this, If she had her doubts. She thought about how happy Alex looked earlier today. Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/n got up. "Charles...I'm sorry but we can't—I can't do this. Think about Alex. How can you do this to her? I have a boyfriend now, and for once, I don't have to hope that he feels the same way I do. For once, I don't have to doubt the feelings that we share—whether they're real or not. I'm sorry, but there will never be an 'us,'" Y/n said as she started to walk towards her apartment.

"You said 'feelings.' Does that mean you don't love him?" Charles questioned. Turning back to look at the boy, who was now standing as well, "What?" Y/n asked. "You just said 'the feelings you share,' and not love. Does that mean you don't love him? Is it because, deep down, you know, you still love me?" Charles questioned, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry, Charles," Y/n said as she walked away, leaving Charles all alone in the middle of the park.

I know, you know, we know You weren't down for forever and it's fine I know, you, know, we know We weren't meant for each other and it's fine

The next time Y/n heard about Charles was a few months later. She had decided to spend the day with Arthur and Jade. The trio had spent the majority of their day lounging and watching movies. As the day progressed, they slowly got comfortable on the couch and started to talk about a variety of things, with a glass of wine in hand. Somewhere in between, the conversation about Enzo and Charlotte's wedding came up. "Hey Y/n/n, do you have a date in mind?" Jade asked. Y/n had broken up with her boyfriend not long after that night in the park with Charles. Arthur gave Y/n a sad smile. He knew about Y/n's crush, and Charles' rejection. He also knew about that night in the park. "Umm...not really, I don't have anyone particular in mind," said Y/n with a little hesitation. "Ahh, you know what? why don't you go with Charles? I always thought you two would make a cute pair," said Jade as she got up to get some more snacks. Upon hearing this, Y/n shot Arthur a look. "What?" she asked. Taking a sip of his drink, Arthur said, "He broke up with her." He continued, "He broke up with her a while ago...A few weeks after the park incident." Y/n didn't know how to react. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to feel guilty over their breakup," said Arthur. A soft 'Oh' was all Y/n could mutter. "Just know it's not your fault. He chose to break up with her. This has nothing to do with you," said Arthur. Getting up to go get another bottle, he turned around and said, "I know things are complicated between the two of you, but for what it's worth, don't let this guilt stop you from going after what you want. That is, if that's what you still want." With that Arthur left Y/n alone with her thoughts.

But if the world was ending You'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night Would you love me for the hell of it? All our fears would be irrelevant If the world was ending You'd come over, right?

Everything about tonight was perfect—the lights, the decoration, the location; it was all perfect. Y/n felt honored when Charlotte had asked her to be one of her bridesmaids. She still remembers how she could not stop crying and how it took both Enzo and Charlotte to calm her down. Standing in front of her was Enzo, a man Y/n considered to be her older brother, looking as handsome as ever. Locking eyes with her, Enzo smiled at Y/n. 'You've got this,' she mouthed to him. Diverting her eyes, Y/n made eye contact with him. Standing tall in an expensive suit was none other than Enzo's younger brother, Charles. The two had not spoken even once since that night—not when they arrived at the wedding location, not at the family dinner, and not even when they walked down the aisle together as the groomsman and bridesmaid. It was clear that Charles wanted to talk to her. He made many attempts to convey that. Y/n, however, wasn't ready to have that talk. Doing so would mean the two would have to come face-to-face with the fact that they unintentionally sabotaged their relationships for each other—something Y/n was not ready to accept.

The ceremony was beautiful. Y/n even shed a few tears at the couple's vow's. It was finally time for their reception. As everyone was making their way to reception venue, Y/n was pulled into the corner by someone. Before she could say anything, she heard "Shh, It's me," and then the owner of that voice came in view. "Charles," she said, although her voice came muffled under Charles' hand. Smiling at her, he said, "I wanted to talk to you, which I think you have noticed by now, considering you suddenly vanish the moment I make my way towards you." Removing his hand from over her mouth, Y/n said, "What do you want Charles?" "Isn't it obvious by now? I want you, Y/n. I know what I said in the park was stupid and selfish. I shouldn't have unloaded my feeling onto you like that. I know I should have figured things out for myself before I did anything. And I've learned it the hard way. I know I hurt a lot of people in the process, and I genuinely regret that. If I could go back in time and reverse things, I would. But you also have to know I have never been more sure about anything else in my life than I am about you since that night in the park. I love you, and I have loved you ever since I met you. I want to be the person you call after a long day, the one you think about every time something good happens in your life. Most of all, I want to be the one you think about, no matter what," said Charles, holding nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Y/n let out a few tears she didn't know she had been holding in. "How are you so sure things will work out? How do you know we're not going to wake up in a year or two's time and realize how big of a mistake this was? And how things would have been better had we let them be just the way they were? How?" Y/n questioned Charles. "I don't, and I can't be sure that this will work out," said Charles. Taking a step forward, he held onto Y/n's hand before continuing, "But I know that you're worth the risk. I had to learn it the long way," he said with a smirk, upon which Y/n smacked his arm. "Charles!" she said in a tone of warning. "I'm sorry, mon amour, but you should know, if the world was going to end tomorrow, you'd be the only person I would want to spend the night with. No matter what happens I want you, Y/n. You're worth the risk," said Charles.

No, there wouldn't be a reason why We would even have to say goodbye

"Are you sure about this, Charles," said Y/n as she looked at him. "I'm more than sure, mon amour," said Charles, his eyes gleaming with nothing but sincerity and love. And so Y/n nodded her head. "Yes," she said as she looked at the boy kneeling in front of her. Jumping up in joy, Charles let out a scream, "She said yes!" All of a sudden, their friends and family came out from where they were hiding, all excited to congratulate the couple on their engagement. Y/n was pulled into an embrace by none other than her best friend, "You knew, didn't you?" she asked. "Of course I knew, who do you think helped him pick out that ring," said Arthur, still hugging her. "I'm happy for you," he said as he pulled away. "Me too," Y/n said smiling up at him.

As Y/n looked at Charles, she knew no matter her fears and doubts, she would never regret this decision—ever.

...

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allthemeniveloved · 2 months ago

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Little Rat

Summary: Arthur Morgan saves you from an uncomfortable encounter with Micah.

The fire crackled low in the center of camp, casting flickering shadows against the trees surrounding Clemens Point. Most of the gang had turned in for the night, save for a few stragglers nursing drinks by the embers. You were tidying up your things near your tent, the quiet hum of the crickets offering a small sense of peace—until you heard the unmistakable drawl.

“Well, look who’s all alone in the dark,” Micah Bell said, stepping into your line of sight with that irritating smirk plastered across his face. His eyes glinted in the dim light, and you instantly felt your guard go up.

“Micah,” you said tersely, keeping your tone neutral. “What do you want?”

He feigned offense, holding a hand to his chest. “Now, that’s no way to greet someone, is it? Just tryin’ to be sociable, sweetheart. Seems like you could use the company.”

You shot him a cold glare. “I don’t need anything, least of all from you.”

Micah chuckled low, ignoring your clear discomfort as he took another step closer, his presence pressing in on you. “Now, now. Don’t be like that. I think you and me, we could get along real well if you’d just stop actin’ so high and mighty. Ain’t nobody else around, anyway. What’s the harm?”

You stepped back instinctively, your pulse quickening. “Back off, Micah,” you warned, trying to keep your voice steady.

He didn’t listen. Instead, he reached out, his hand gripping your arm as he leaned in closer. “Aw, c’mon, darlin’. Don’t be like that. I don’t bite.”

Before you could push him away, a deep voice growled from the shadows. “Touch her again, Micah, and you won’t have a hand left to use.”

Both of you turned toward the source of the voice, and there he was—Arthur Morgan, standing at the edge of the firelight. His hat was pulled low, his jaw set tight, and his hand rested casually on the butt of his pistol.

Micah straightened, sneering. “Well, if it ain’t Arthur Morgan,” he spat. “You always gotta stick your nose where it don’t belong cowpoke?”

Arthur didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze locked on Micah with a look that could freeze the blood in your veins. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but it carried an unmistakable weight. “Ain’t no need to explain yourself, Micah. Just walk away.”

Micah raised his hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at his lips, “I was only paying her a compliment, that’s all.”

“You keep your compliments - and yourself - far away from her, or you’ll be eating the dirt under my boots. Got it?”

Micah hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Arthur. He opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur’s hand moved slightly on his pistol, and that was enough to send Micah scowling back toward his tent with a muttered curse.

Once Micah disappeared into the darkness, Arthur turned to you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

You nodded, though your heart was still pounding. “I am now. Thank you.”

Arthur grunted, his hand falling away from his holster as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to get involved, but… couldn’t just stand there watchin’ him bother you like that.”

You offered a small, grateful smile. “I’m glad you did. He’s… persistent.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened again, and he glanced toward where Micah had gone. “He tries it again, you let me know,” he said, his tone sharp with barely restrained anger. “I’ll make sure he don’t forget his place.”

There was something in his gaze when he looked at you—something fierce and protective, but also hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he should let you see it. You didn’t know what to say, caught off guard by how much safer you felt just standing near him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you said again, softer this time. “I mean it.”

He looked away, his cheeks tinged red beneath his scruffy beard. “Don’t gotta thank me,” he muttered, almost embarrassed. “Just… don’t like seein’ you get hurt, is all.”

As he started to walk away, you caught yourself staring after him, wondering why your heart felt a little lighter, even after what had just happened. Arthur, on the other hand, kept his back to you, his fists clenched as he cursed himself for not saying more—for not telling you the truth about why he couldn’t stand the thought of Micah or anyone else getting too close to you.

a/n: I’m feeling so unbelievably productive & creative this week and the thoughts are just flowing but I just know I’m going to crash this weekend or next week and not write again for another 7 years

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honeylullaby · 1 month ago

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“I can’t stand to see ya’ with someone else.”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by one’s own heart @wobblybobbilyfleshybits 🩷 / Declan is wildly jealous to see you with somebody else, and he makes that very clear…

18+ FANFIC / Smut refs & gorgeously feral Declan 🥰 Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🫶🏽

The Rose & Crown — Rutshire’s quaintly village pub — was exquisite. Crimson red carpets, the fireplace roaring divinely in the corner and the welcoming chatter of more-than-friendly locals bouncing from the walls. Nestled in the corner, accompanied by the landlord’s slobbering bulldog, you gulped eagerly from your pint of Guinness, desperate to coax yourself into drunkenness after an atrocious day at work. “Hello, darling.” A beguiling man with a mop of silver hair bounced over, throwing himself in the seat beside you. His enchanting smile sent shivers down your spine, and you allowed him to buy you another drink whilst whispering honeyed words into your ear.

The bell of the front door jingled as Declan O’Hara entered the pub, tight-lipped and adorned in beige, as usual. You had been casually sleeping with him for a few months now, and as so, you were thoroughly aware that he drank many evenings away here — away from prying, judgemental eyes. He had sat himself at the bar, ordering a tumbler of Bell’s finest and disinterestedly flicking through today’s edition of The Scorpion. The grey fox beside you, however, told you a particularly risqué joke, making you release a wondrous cackle. Sighing in agitation, Declan slowly rose from the bar and stumbled over to your table. “Hello. Didn’t see ya’ there.” He mumbled, gulping from his glass and shooting the man beside you a villainous stare. “Hello, Declan. Take a seat.” You peep, and pat the space beside you.

Begrudgingly obliging, Declan took a seat — unknowingly subjecting himself to lascivious flirting between you and your new admirer, an overwhelming compliment here, a soft stroke of your arm there. Each motion made by the man was met from an increasingly reproving stare from Declan. “One moment, doll. Must take this.” The man excused himself, pulling his ginormous telephone from his bag and making his way outside. “Did ya’ sit me here to make me an accessory or was there a reason?” Declan spat towards you, motioning towards the barman for his fourth whiskey. “What ever could you mean?” You question with a smirk.

“Well, I’m sat watchin’ this cunt leer over ya’. Disgusting.” He added, nodding towards the barman delivering him his next drink. “I think you should make that your last. You get rather nasty when you’re drunk.” You remark bitterly. An acerbic snicker pushed from his lips as he lit a cigarette, leaning towards you, his hot breath steaming over your neck. “Ya’ have no idea how nasty I can get.” The Irishman’s voice was devilishly husky — enough to make your thighs involuntarily squeeze together. “Oh yeah? How nasty are you going to get with me, Declan?” You tease, relocating your hand to his thigh and running it dangerously close to his bulge. As your new admirer made his way back to the increasingly passionate scene, Declan muttered towards you under his breath. “I can’t stand to see you with someone else.”

“Sorry about that. Just work.” The man beamed, as you and Declan parted your lustful gazes, as though you hadn’t made conversation at all. “Anyway, doll, what’s to say you come back with me and I show you a good time?” The silver-haired man questioned, pulling at your arm and staring at Declan pompously. That was enough. “Touch her, and it’ll be the last fuckin’ thing you do.” Declan snarled, pounding his fists against the table as he stood up. Overtly threatened by Declan’s warning, the man backed away and promptly made his exit.

“What the fuck was that?” You interrogated, raising arched eyebrows to the heavens — feigning annoyance but terribly turned on by his rage. “Ya’ deserve much fuckin’ better than that.” He growled, knocking back his whiskey like a shot and stubbing out his cigarette. “Well, I wouldn’t know now, would I?” You spit, rolling your eyes. “Ya’ just fuckin’ love to tease me, I know it,” He begins, leaning into you and speaking into your ear with a seductive, hushed tone, “But I’m gonna take ya’ home and show ya’ that ya’ belong to me.”

#rivals #rivals disney+#rivals disney #rivals hulu #rivals fanfic #rivals fanfiction #declan o’hara fanfiction #declan o’hara fanfic #declan o’hara x reader #declan o hara #declan o’hara #aidan turner

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yourmamakira · 7 months ago

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"FIGHTING WORDS" Carl Grimes, she/her

Set in the Alexzandria Era after Carl lost his eye. His very protective girlfriend overheard the local kids talking about Carl behind his back. and needless to say, no one had anything to say about Carl ever again. [ANGST, to SLIGHT FLUFF]

Carl has been in a coma for weeks. His girlfriend had never left his side after the incident. Her depression had gotten so bad it took Daryal, Glenn and Rick to hold her down to force her to eat and drink water.

Her mood had deteriorated drastically, she was more angry, she was less active, she never smiled anymore and she didn't know who to blame for what happened to Carl. She knew it wasn't right to Blame others for the accident. but she had nearly lost the one thing keeping her going in this Hell that used to be a world, she had every right to be upset.

she sat in the armchair next to the bed Carl lay in peacefully, she slipped between sleep and alert wake. She didn't even let the nurse come into the room to check on Carl unless absolutely necessary, and when anyone else was in beside her and Carl, her hand stayed on her and Carl's Gun that slept in her holster.

her eyes shot open and her hand bolted to her gun as the door to their room swung open. In walked the one and only Daryl Dixon, and for once he was without his crossbow. he walked in with his usual gruff demeanor and closed the door behind him.

The girl took her hand off her guns and crossed her arms as she returned to watching the sleeping Carl.

Darryl came over and sat in the seat opposite of her. he crossed his arms before speaking.

"You need to go outside. He ain't wakin' up any sooner with you watchin' him like a hawk. He ain't goin' nowhere, and you don't have to go that far. Jus' needs to get outta this room."

You glared at him through your hooded eyes. but inevitably he was right. carl had been like this for weeks and every second you watched him it felt like your body was slipping farther into a black hole.

Daryal then spoke again, "You need to be in your best health for when he wakes up. you need ta' take care of em', not him take care of you. how you gon take care of him like this?"

he had you stumped with his words. he was right, how were you going to take care of Carl and you couldn't even take care of yourself?

you let out a sigh and began to get up, he followed suit but then stopped you by holding out his hand. you huffed while rolling your eyes and took your guns out of your holster. he didn't know about the knife in your boot thank goodness, but knowing him he probably did.

you passed him up with a glare while leaving the house and strolling out into the street you hadn't seen in weeks. There wasn't much to do here. Besides the few teens that roamed, but you mainly kept to yourself and Carl.

you never really talked much these days, nothing worth talking about. Many thought you were mute at first meeting you, but that narrative quickly went out the window whenever you got too upset. Memory's of all the times someone had pissed you off to bad and you cussing up a storm regardless the person.

you walked the streets passing by people and not saying a word. You came up to a small bench and decided to take a seat and just take in the fresh air, you had to admit, it did feel nice on your skin to feel the breeze and not that stuffy old room that felt more like a prison rather a room.

a few minutes had passed and you had begun to get up being done with your reminiscence before you spotted a group of teens headed your way.

You despised these inhabitants of Alexandria greatly, and their children were even more unbearable. You started past them before one of them decided to take it upon himself to cat-called you, despite you clearly being madly in love with Carl, these specific group just love to torment you.

"Hey, Miss Mute! How about I show you what a real man looks like in bed while your one eyed freak of a boyfriend's out!" He and his friends cackled like hyenas while shoving him around, as if what he said was the greatest thing in the world.

you slowly spun around and sneered, you decided to brush off his remark of the incident, knowing nothing good would come out of beating his ass, "Your tiny shrimp dick doesn't even come close to a real man. My one eyed freak of a boyfriend at that." he stopped laughing and his gooneys ooed like kindergarteners.

He tilted his head to the side as he stepped closer then he should have. "The fuck did you just say to me, bitch?" You stepped closer to him and you could feel his stank breath up your nose, it made you want to vomit on the spot. But you continued to talk your shit.

"I said, you have a big ass head, and a small as Dick. Your breath also smells like walker ass. need I say more?" Your head tilted to the side and your eyebrows furrowed.

his face contorted into one of anger, he scoffed then chuckled dryly as if he thought a funny thought in his fucked up head.

He raised his hand and tried to touch your hair, but you moved your face and roughly grabbed his arm putting it behind his back so he couldn't move. you then put pressure on his back as he cried out loudly in pain.

"you ever touch me again, and I will fucking kill you!"you yelled out aggressively. You were not in the mood to be fucked with.

He couldn't even respond with words as he just continued to cry like a baby for anyone that would dare to help him.

His friends all backed up out of fear of being next. They started yelling at you to let him go but you didn't listen and continued to nearly break his arm.

He yelled louder as your pressure increased. Your face hot with anger that he even dared to touch you after making a nasty comment about your boyfriend.

You then heard yells of a few adults calling you name but you still didn't let up.

Then out of no where two pairs of strong arms grabbed your arms and you thrashed in their hold.

The boy you had previously had in a hold jumped up to his feet and held his arm in pain, "you crazy bitch! That bullet should have Killed Your boyfriend!"

He yelled out and suddenly your thrashing stopped, you looked up at him with a dark look and his face went cold. He knew he had fucked up.

You harshly ripped your arms away from your holders and ran up to the boy with a flying fist, it knocked him on the ground and you kept on punching. His face become black and blue and Messy with blood, your knuckles ached but you didn't care.

It took a total of four adults to pry you away from the nearly unconscious boy, but by then you had already lost all cool.

You stopped struggling in their hold and spit on the boy you had just beat to a pulp.

Your breathing was irratic and it became very clear to everyone that you were extremely unstable. You caught your breath and spoke down darkly to the boy who cried out in pain. He spotted you stepping one step closer and backed up out of fear.

"If you, or anyone else is this god dam town, ever speak bad about Carl ever again. Your gonna wish your sorry asses became walkers after i'm through with you! Do you FUCKING HEAR ME??"

The boy nodded vigorously as more and more people came over to stare at you with fear.

You yanked your arms away from the men and everyone backed up and cleared you a path as you turned around to go back to you and Carl's room.

You made it up there and slammed the door and began pacing back and forth. You were so Pumped with adrenaline that you didn't even notice the empty bed where Carl laid before.

The door swung open and in came a seething Daryl, followed by a worried Glenn and a Very Concerned Maggie.

Daryl came over to stand infront of you and you mean mugged him. He gave you a harsh push and you feel backwards into a chair.

Maggie and Glenn both Yelled but their cries went Unheard by the both of you. You death gripped the arm rests of the chair you sat in as you glared up at the yelling Man that had became your father figure over the course of this apocalypse.

"I told your ass to take a walk! Not Pumble some kids face in! Now That kids gonna need Stitches that we don't have Just because you couldn't control your Anger over some Dam words! Now I heard what them kids said to you, what they said about Carl. But what if That dam wanna be president decided to Kick you out because you beat up some kid they thought was innocent?! You don't think before you Hit! And we can't have that type of stupidity in this world! Get your fuckin' act together! Or you're gonna be in some deep fuckin' shit."

He left off with those words and left behind a shaking and teary eyed child on the Chair. Your leg bounced rapidly as tears fell from your eyes but no sound came out.

You didn't know any other way to let out what you were feeling besides violence. It was your only option given that Carl wasn't in a good shape to calm you down like he usually would.

You were unknowingly left alone in the room and that left you with your thoughts. You stood up and began throwing, kicking and breaking everything and anything in the room that could be thrown kicked or broken.

You continued until another voice entered the room, another voice you hadn't heard in a long time.

"Y/n..?"

You spun around and anyone could tell just by looking at you that you were not okay.

Your eye bags as eye bags, your hair was widely unkept, your knuckles bled from throwing things, hitting things and beating the shit out of kids and unsuspecting walkers. You shook with every breath you let out, and your voice was raw from yelling into your pillow with Sobs you couldn't control.

Carl Slowly made his way into the room as he carefully walked to you like you were Fine China. He stopped right in front of you and then suddenly encased your form.

You stood there for a few seconds, asking yourself in your loud head 'was this real?'

But as you felt the heat off his skin, the soft melancholy beat of his heart. And his soft But ragged breaths. You knew your boyfriend was real.

You slowly encased his body and you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your face. You began sobbing, wetting his shirt like it was raining from the clouds.

Your loud sobs shook the house that you both occupied but You didn't care. Your throat became dryer and dryer and you sobs grew raspy as you clutched Carl Closer to your body.

You were a broken record falling apart without the other half that was the love of you life. Carl rubbed your back and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

You continued to sob until you couldn't anymore. Your legs grew tired as your body grew heavy, you hadn't slept in days. And it was evident on your face.

His big hands cupped your face and used the pads of his thumb to wipe away any stray tears from your eyes, your hurt and abused soul seethed through your eyes and he could see what you had been going through with just a glance at your tear stained face.

He kissed your tears away with his chapped lips and your eyes fluttered closed. Your breathing leveled out after crying for hours in his shoulder. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bed.

He laid down in the spot he had been for weeks and you laid on top of him. You looked into eachothers eyes until you couldn't keep them open anymore.

The two of you fell asleep to the sounds of each others breathing.

You knew you would have to deal with the consequences of what you had done, but you could deal with them later.

Now? The two puzzles peices had finally clicked back together where they belonged, and as long as you had Carl. You didn't care what was next. As long as whatever it was, was beside him.

HIIII, this chapter is kinda sad, sadder then I usually write at least, and this had more reader then Carl so I'm sorry about that but I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and if you wanna see more of Mr grimes please request and I'll get back to you :3

#kira speaks #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x fem!reader #pls love this bcs it took me so long #twd #tw depressing stuff #twd carl #twd daryl #tw blood #tw depressing thoughts #tw bad thoughts

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7s3ven · 1 year ago

Note

okay I feel like you would be the perfect person to write this request! Obviously you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to :)it and idea for a Luke castellan x reader (and spoilers for the books/series if you haven’t read the books or know the plot!)

Is there anyway you’d be interesting in writing a Luke x reader where they’re a daughter of Poseidon fic where he betray the reader and like poisons them instead of percy but reader and Luke where in a relationship??? Idk mad woman by Taylor’s swift like opening lyrics give off that sort of vibe sorry if this makes no sense 😭

THE WAY I GASPED AND SHOUTED "THAT'S EVIL". Nahhh, poor Y/N. I feel so bad for the suffering I'm going to put her through...

( master list )

POISON AND TOXIN. luke (pjo)

IN WHICH... Luke commits the unthinkable and Y/N no longer wants any part in his life. Unfortunately for her, Luke isn’t ready to let her go.

"I'm takin' my time, takin' my time. 'Cause you took everything from me. Watchin' you climb, watchin' you climb over people like me."

Warnings : spoilers, details will differ (I haven’t read the books in ages), obsessive love, yandere! luke, kidnapping, angst, betrayal, toxic relationship, mentions of sex, manipulation, y/n + luke know they’re toxic but they can’t stay away from each other

—

The last few days without Percy had been uneventful to say the most. Y/N groaned as she slowly sat up, clutching her aching head. The pain was pounding against her skull, causing her to quietly scoff. She groggily reached for a bottle of pills beside her bed, taking one to relieve the pressure.

The harsh light from the sun seared into the room and she groaned, squinting her eyes to protect them.

“Another late night, Y/N?” Harmon, a boy from the Apollo cabin, called out as she exited her cabin to breathe in the morning air. He jogged over to a swaying Y/N.

“Yeah. It doesn’t feel right without Percy.” Y/N groaned, running a hand through her untidy hair. She probably looked like a mess right now but with all the thoughts rushing through her mind, she didn’t care.

It felt wrong without Percy. All those years alone had done some damage on her and it had been exciting to have someone new in her cabin, for a little while at least. While Percy occupied the bed in the corner of the dusty room, Y/N’s nightmares came to a temporary halt. She was happy for the time being, her dreams filled with pretty flowers and romantic settings instead of chilling monsters and bony hands threatening to drag her to the bottom of the ocean.

“How’s Luke?” Harmon questioned, causing Y/N to heave an annoyed sigh. She rolled her E/C sighed, scowling.

“As distant as ever.” She sneered. She lifted her head, making eye contact with the one person they were talking about. Y/N held strong eye contact with Luke before glancing back to Harmon, smiling at him. “Have you had breakfast yet?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side. “Do you know if there’s any food left?”

“There might be. You woke up pretty late.” Harmon grinned.

“I will see you later, then. I have to make myself look presentable and not like a raccoon that just crawled out of a garbage can.” Y/N laughed at her own joke as she waltzed back into her cabin, kicking the door closed. She hummed under her breath as she pulled the crop top she slept in off, replacing it with her bra and the bright orange shirt she hated so much.

She quietly yelped when her door creaked open, thinking it was someone else. She felt a little relieved when it was only Luke. He stood there in all his glory, arms folded over his chest and a look on his face that suggested he wasn't happy at all. "What was that?" He questioned, sitting down on Y/N's bed as she looked at him in confusion.

"Uh... what?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing. Luke scoffed at her perplexed face, not believing it for a second.

"You were flirting with that Apollo boy. You're my girlfriend, not his." Luke snapped, anger glazing over his usual kind eyes. Y/N was taken aback, staring at him with her red-tinted lips parted in surprise.

"I wasn't... what? Luke, I wasn't flirting with Harmon. He's my friend." Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she slid on a pair of pants. She could feel Luke's gaze watching her every move and wandering over her waist.

What had become of Luke? She was at camp before he even arrived and she was the one to show him around, introducing the boy to the perilous life of a demigod. Ever since that damned quest, he had been acting different. More closed-off, more secretive with someone he once shared everything with, and he let his temper get the best of him; always shouting at people and letting his anger flare up like he was Clarisse.

Annabeth could sense the change too.

"What's with you, Luke? You used to be fine with me talking to Harmon." Y/N took a careful step towards her boyfriend, not wanting to upset him even more.

"That was before he started staring at you like you were the only girl he could ever date." Luke jeered as he deeply frowned. Y/N smoothened out her messy bedsheets before taking a seat next to him.

She stared at him, not really knowing what to reply with. Her breath shuddered as she shrugged. "I guess I could... talk to him less?" She muttered, causing Luke's face to light up. He instantly smiled, pulling Y/N into a tight embrace.

"I love you." He whispered, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck. Y/N blinked a few times, thickly gulping.

"I... I love you too, Luke." His hands felt like blistering metal on her bare arms but she couldn't find the courage to pull away, in fear he'd hurt her or leave her. Luke had never hit her, thankfully, but his words sometimes pierced her soul and he left her crying under her sheets, wondering what she had done wrong.

"I'll see you after archery, alright?" Luke ended the hug.

Y/N stared at him in confusion. "But... I thought you were teaching the newbies archery and I'd be showing someone else around?" She spluttered.

"Nah. I changed your job. Newcomer's a boy and I don't want him to get any ideas." Luke grinned and Y/N couldn't say no to his charming face. He passionately kissed her, cupping her face in his large hands to pull her closer.

"I should get going, Luke." Y/N breathed but he tugged her back.

"You can afford to leave them for a few minutes." He whispered, dragging Y/N onto his lap. She couldn't stop her cheeks from flushing bright red despite his hands harshly digging into her skin and his grip being so tight that she couldn't squirm away, even if she wanted to. Luke had no interest in whatever the new kid was saying. He kept babbling on and eventually, Luke managed to tune out his voice. The pair ended up in the arena and the boy, whose name was Gil, nudged Luke.

"Who's that?" Gil questioned, pointing at Y/N. Luke clenched his jaw and harshly cleared his throat. He placed his hands on Gil's shoulders, squeezing him tighter than needed.

"Y/N L/N." He muttered. "Pretty little thing, ain't she? She's great with archery. May as well be Apollo's daughter with that skill." Gil didn't notice the dark look in Luke's eyes, too preoccupied with craning his neck to catch another longing glimpse of Y/N. Luke cleared his throat, "The tour's over. I trust you'll be able to find the Hermes cabin by yourself?"

Gil mindlessly nodded.

Luke walked over to Y/N, tapping her on the shoulder. He kissed her cheek, making sure Gil saw his not-so-subtle advances. "What was that for?" She asked as she turned to Luke. The young demigods groaned at the sight of a couple and Y/N quietly laughed, effortlessly shushing them.

"I think you've had enough practice for today. Come back tomorrow, same time." Y/N said to the children, ushering them away. Luke slung an arm around her shoulder as they walked side by side.

"You have to stop attracting attention from other guys." Luke uttered to break the peaceful silence.

"What?" Y/N lightly gasped, offended. She glowered at Luke, quietly scoffing. "Oh, so it's my fault now?"

Luke shrugged, pressing his lips into an annoyed thin line. "I'm just saying. You wear low-waisted pants and a shirt that's too small." Y/N should have punched him for that comment but she was sure that Luke could do a lot worse to her pretty face.

"My clothes are not an invitation." Y/N quickly snapped.

"When did you start disrespectfully talking back?"

"It's hardly disrespectful, Luke. I'm simply standing up for myself. I do not condone your jealous behavior and troublesome remarks." Y/N harshly poked his chest, almost angrily baring her teeth at him. "Talk to me when you regain your senses. It's not my damn fault that you feel so threatened by other boys that you start blaming me."

Luke ran his tongue over his teeth as he watched Y/N storm off. He bit the inside of his cheek before huffing in frustration. Y/N would forgive him for his harsh and cold words in no time, she always did. Especially when he'd sneak into her cabin at night with her permission and press her hips deep into her squeaky mattress.

Y/N went to lunch furious and still fuming. A part of her wanted to wear an over-sized shirt to please Luke while the other refused to back down. What gave him the right to dictate her life while he could do whatever he wanted simply because of his gender?

Y/N was even angrier to see Luke standing at the Aphrodite table, entertaining the giggling girls who he knew had a thing for him. She gripped her fork tightly and jumped when someone slid into the seat next to her.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Y/N recognised him as the Gil boy, or whatever his name was. She raised her eyebrows as her lips curled into a slight sneer.

“Do I… know you?” She asked, “Only Poseidon kids are allowed to sit here and until my brother is back, nobody but me should be here.”

Gil quickly stood up, his knees hitting the table. “Sorry. I didn’t realise. I’ll, uh, go back to the Hermes table. Sorry, again.” He ran off while Y/N sighed. She picked at her half-eaten food before deciding she was no longer hungry. It was a rash decision but as soon as she reached the wildly dancing fire, she threw her food and plate in. Her father wouldn’t be too pleased but he could live with it.

Luke’s sharp gaze followed Y/N as she left the cheerful atmosphere. He quietly chuckled and smirked. If there was one thing that he knew about Y/N, it was that she didn’t handle jealousy too well either.

He left the Aphrodite table without an excuse, not caring about the girls drunk with love. “Hey, Y/N, honey, did that Gil kid upset you? I understand that he’s a little annoying but I can talk to him if you want.” Luke clasped his hands around her wrist, forcing her to stop walking so quickly.

“It’s not his fault!” Y/N exclaimed, spinning around. Her eyes were red and the tears welling up in her eyes shone in the dim sun. “It’s yours, Luke! You treat me like I’m some… some girl who worships the ground you walk on! Well, I don’t! I have some self-respect left. And if you want to flirt with other girls then that’s fine by me. But make sure you break up with me first because I’m not putting up with any of your bullshit.”

Luke chuckled, “Harsh words, don’t you think?” He almost jumped when Y/N let out a scream.

“You never take me seriously! All you do is play around and then you get mad at me for factors I can’t control! Yet you always brush me off when I’m trying to resolve things. You isolate me from my friends so I’m easier to mess with! Well, are you done now? Have you had enough fun?!”

“I’m not manipulating you. You’re crazy to think that. I love you, Y/N.”

“No! That’s not true! That’s a lie!” Y/N pulled at the end of her hair, “You fell in love with the idea of me! You’re in love with your version of me that lives inside your head! And then you get mad at me because I make a mistake and your Y/N isn’t supposed to make mistakes!But I’m not like her, Luke! You have pushed me too far and when I finally break, suddenly I’m the crazy one?! You always call me crazy. So guess what, maybe I am insane!” Y/N heavily panted as tears spilled over her hot cheeks, cascading down and temporarily staining her shirt. She had always been a kind soul but there was one particular flaw Y/N hated; her habit of crying whenever she was mad.

“If you won’t end our relationship then I will. We’re over, Luke. I’ve had enough of your jealousy and if you can’t accept that I have guy friends then maybe you need to think twice before attacking me.” Y/N reached up, grasping the necklace she had made Luke that hung around his neck, and yanking it off.

Luke watched in despair as the colourful beads dropped one by one to the floor, rolling under the green blades of grass. “Are you crazy?” He muttered, looking up. “You can’t leave me… I’m all you have.” He clutched his shirt, balling up the fabric, and he took long strides towards Y/N. “I made you into who you are. I created you from nothing. Before me, you were only a girl half-decent at archery. Now, you’re a prodigy. You would’ve been lost without my guidance and you have the guts to break up with me?!”

Y/N didn’t flinch, even when Luke’s voice pierced her sensitive ears. “It’s like you said, Luke. I am crazy. Breakups happen so deal with it.” She threw the remaining beads and the leather string at him before walking away, most likely to stay in the cool comforts of her cabin until Annabeth and Percy returned.

Luke could barely contain his rage and he hurriedly kneeled down to collect the beads, or at least the ones he could find.

Each bead and charm seemed to bring back a different memory of them arguing or fighting over a pointless topic. Luke sighed as he leaned his head back, knowing he had made a mistake.

But if there was one thing Luke Castellan refused to do, it was give up. So he stared at Y/N all throughout dinner. And even when Y/N made it clear that the sight of him made her sick, he still knocked on her door at night.

“Y/N.” He called out, impatiently tapping his foot against the old wood. “I’m sorry. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’m ready to talk everything out. I’m calm now.”

Those were the exact words he had uttered to Y/N last week, promising he would change but he never did. Y/N had learned her lesson from that, refusing to open the door and going as far as locking it.

“Y/N. You’re being unreasonable.” Luke grumbled as he desperately tried to open the door, barging into it with his shoulder. He heard Y/N laugh.

“That’s ironic considering you’re trying to break my door down.” She spoke over the hooting owls and buzzing cicadas. “You always promise you’ll change but you never do. Don’t you think it’s time to stop making empty promises?”

Luke could hear her voice waver and he felt a small pang of guilt, knowing he was the reason behind her agonising sorrow.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, not only to Y/N but to everybody he was about to hurt, even to his father who was the most wretched man in this world. He repeated his sentence, leaning his head against the door. It suddenly swung open and Luke almost crashed into Y/N whom was still gripping the door knob.

She quietly sighed, her gaze immediately spotting his mournful eyes and his lips pulled into a guiltily frown. Y/N hesitated before stepping aside.

“This is your last chance, Luke.” She mumbled but he knew she was lying. She loved him far too much to devoid herself of his charming face.

Luke smiled as he brushed past Y/N. She could never resist him, after all. In a way, Luke pitied her for being so forgiving and sick with love because she and Percy were in the most danger out of everybody, even if they couldn’t see it yet.

The day Percy returned was the day Luke decided to be a hopeless romantic. He took an unsuspecting Y/N into the woods, twirling her around a few times because she always liked dancing.

While Y/N was distracted by the babbling brook and dipping her hand in the cool water, Luke clasped his hands behind his back. He was thinking of what to do next, let Y/N to fend for herself or he could struggle to protect her.

But sacrificing so much for a mere girl seemed pointless, even if Luke was developing strong feelings for Y/N. He quickly clicked his fingers, catching Y/N’s attention. She glanced over her shoulder, her joyful smiling fading as she laid eyes on the huge pit scorpion.

She scrambled back while Luke watched her pathetic attempt at escaping.

“I wouldn’t.” He uttered, “Pit scorpions can jump fifteen feet and slice right through your clothes. You’ll be dead in sixty seconds. But, of course, you already knew that because you love reading about these creatures. That’s why you look so frightened.”

Y/N looked at Luke, searching for any kindness in his eyes to offer her mercy. There was none. His eyes were like a void, empty and dark and lacking any human emotions.

He looked nothing like her Luke who she had met on his first day of camp, scared, annoyed, and baffled at what had become of his dead friend Thalia.

“It’s a shame I have to end our relationship here. I was starting to enjoy your presence, but giving up all my hard work for you is hardly beneficial.”

“What?” Y/N spluttered, trying to kick the scorpion away. She only made it angrier and it clapped his claws at her, ignoring Luke altogether. The scorpion’s tail was raised in hostility and Y/N held back a loud shudder of fear, knowing Luke was thriving off her terror. “Luke… what are you talking about?”

He laughed as if she were an idiot. She felt like one for trusting him despite how much he hurt her. “You don’t get it, do you? I want revenge. On my father and on the gods who have forsaken their children! They don’t give a shit about us. They never did. To them, we’re just some nitwits who are stupid enough to suck up to them. I was the one who stole the bolt, Y/N. Not Hades. And I was the one who sent that hellhound after Percy.”

“Luke, I trusted you.” Y/N thickly gulped.

“A fatal mistake.”

“No. That’s our parents you’re talking about, Luke. And you wouldn’t try and kill Percy… would you? Not my brother. You know how much he means to me.” Y/N’s eyesight turned glassy as she furrowed her eyebrows.

It all made sense now. His sour mood and his bitter attitude. All those nights she spent crying over his glass sharp words. Y/N felt foolish for not noticing what he was doing, but she was far too preoccupied with saving her relationship with Luke at the time.

“What did you think I’d say to that? Join you?” Y/N huffed.

Luke’s eyes flickered to the large bug that was only getting more furious as the seconds ticked by. “Does a scorpion sting when fighting back?” He simply questioned.

Y/N’s hardened gaze bored into his soul as she answered. “They strike to kill… and you know I will too.”

Yes, Luke knew that. Y/N was an exceptional fighter with strategic moves rivalling Annabeth’s. Every carefully planned attack she dealt was like instant death. Luke knew if she had a weapon then she wouldn’t hesitate to land a blow. But he also knew she cared for him far too much to stab his chest. If he had a better weapon, would he do the same? Or spare her?

“It’s a shame you won’t join me… I know you won’t. You and your brother are too alike.” Luke let out a low hum, “I guess we’ve both changed. You used to be hungry for power. I remember you would train until the sunset with your bow and arrow, always wanting to be the best. You’d skip meals, even if you were starving, and I’d have to beg and cry for you to eat. Maybe if my father didn’t give me that quest then we would’ve been fine.”

Luke stared at Y/N for a moment before a grin broke across his face. He stepped over the furious scorpion, pressing a strong kiss to Y/N’s lips. It felt on acid on her skin, itchy and burning and painful.

“A part of me hopes you’ll survive this.” He whispered, “So you can live to see another day. I’ll create the perfect world for you… you’ll see. You’ll love me again even if I have to force the words down your throat.”

Something slipped into her pocket but Y/N’s mind was on the pit scorpion. She flinched as the it climbed up her shoe, snapping its pinchers again.

“Luke.” She breathed as he began to walk away. “Luke. Don’t leave me here! Luke!” She screeched. She would have continued screaming, even if her voice gave up and her vocal cords tore, if it meant she could spend one more day with the warm and loving Luke that she once knew.

The scorpion drove its tail into her leg and she shrieked in pain. She kicked the creature off and desperately searched around for a weapon. She found a small dagger in her pocket, realising that’s what Luke must’ve given to her.

Y/N sliced the scorpion, panting as the world become a confused hazed. She stabbed the creature over and over again until it was nothing but a gruesome corpse of a once terrifying bug.

Y/N limped towards the water but she stumbled, falling to her knees. The toxin was spreading through her blood quickly. She desperately reached out a hand for the creek water, knowing it could possibly heal her. Making it in time to camp would be impossible with her blurring eyesight and inability to walk properly. She’d have to drag her stung leg behind her.

Y/N clawed her way towards the water before her body gave in to the poison. Her limbs grew numb and they refused to move.

Y/N heard the loud noise of bushes rustling and Percy burst into the clearing, Annabeth and a few Apollo kids following close behind.

“Y/N!” He shouted, his voice deafened by the ringing in her ears. She felt dizzy and the world spun in slow-motion as the Apollo healers turned Y/N on her back. Percy kneeled beside her, holding her hand tightly.

“She’s been stung. We don’t have much time. Feed her the nectar.”

Black dots swarmed around in her vision. She could see Annabeth yelling at her but she heard no voices as she let her head loll to the side and she finally succumbed to sleep, not knowing if she would wake up again.

Y/N stirred as the harsh light peeked through the thin curtains of the infirmary. She lightly groaned, shifting around to get more comfortable. Her senses were slowly coming back and she could finally hear again.

“Y/N?” Percy was at her side in an instant. She smiled up at him.

“He really stole the bolt… didn’t he?” She whispered. Percy slowly nodded.

“Yeah…”

Luke’s betrayal would be hard to endure for both the Poseidon siblings and Annabeth. He was beloved by most of the camp and he threw it all away for one pitiful shot at glory.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you loved him.” Percy’s grip on her hand tightened.

A small laugh slipped past Y/N’s lips. “I guess I did… but he didn’t love me back. Or maybe he did and I simply wasn’t enough…”

Luke’s love had ever been pure or innocent. There was always a catch to it. He was obsessive with her, constantly ensuring that no other guys talked to Y/N. At least, not the ones that posed a threat.

A part of Y/N would always miss Luke but she could feel relief wash over her body because she no longer had to endure his lashing-out anger and sadness anymore.

She had escaped his cruel clutches and until they met again, most likely on a battlefield with their swords pressed up against each other’s throats, she could live in peace.

However, happiness never lasted long for demigods. “Get some rest.” Percy uttered as he stepped out of the infirmity. It was late at night and the last Apollo kid had just finished her daily rounds at checking the patients.

Y/N quietly sighed as she leaned her head back, her eyelids fluttering closed. The floorboards creaked but she paid it no mind. All the cabins squeaked, even the Aphrodite one.

Y/N felt drowsy under the influence of the medicine she had been given and she fell asleep in no time. Her long awaited rest didn’t last for long, though, when she awoke with a loud gasp.

She was outside. In a shallow river. Her clothes stuck to her body and she spat out a mouthful of water. Y/N shivered, rubbing her arms as a sorry attempt to generate warmth.

From the shore, she heard a familiar laugh. It pierced her soul and Y/N stiffened, her breath trembling. Luke sat not even a meter away, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He saw her petrified face and it fuelled a sadistic need inside of him.

“I changed my mind, sweetheart.” Those words from him felt like poison to Y/N. “I got permission to keep you around as long as you don’t get into trouble.”

Luke inched forward and Y/N tilted away, trying to scramble rearward. Her back hit a large rock and she quivered, realising she was trapped between a boulder and Luke. Her former lover was approaching her quickly and she didn’t have time to react before he was kneeled in front of her, not caring how his clothes got soaked.

He gently grasped Y/N’s chin, an action that contrasted his aggressive approach back at camp. He tilted her head up so that she was forced to stare at him and sent her another sickeningly sweet smile.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” He whispered in her ear. His hands felt gross on her skin but her body refused to move. She knew she wouldn’t get far with her injured leg and weakened body. “Because I missed you terribly.”

His lips captured Y/N’s in a long kiss and for millisecond, she forgot all his wrongdoings. She almost melted before she came back to her senses.

As Luke pulled away, Y/N sank further into the river like it would save her from whatever callous and vicious act Luke was going to perform.

Her whole body shook, and not just from the cold, as she found herself cornered in Luke’s suffocating embrace once again after fighting so long to get out.

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan x you #annabeth chase #greek mythology #luke castellan pjo #grover underwood #percy jackson show #zeus pjo #grover pjo #pjo show #rick riordan #percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #camp half blood #angst #manipulation #mad woman #chiron pjo #apollo pjo

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seattlesellie · 2 years ago

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i truly cant stop thinking about this with college!ellie it really hurts my head oh god 💓

————— ୨୧ —————

☁️ chilling in her dorm room brightly lit only by led lights (we know ellie isn’t exactly a trend follower, but she somehow managed to find herself purchasing some led strings due to someone saying that fucking with red lighting… hits different.) it starts with just laying around in bed, watching sci-fi (today was ellie’s turn to pick) and eating some cup of noodles or cold pizza (ellie listens and pretends to agree with your complains over cheap food, and how hard it is being a college student and having like no money, but she secretly loves extremely processed meals… she just agrees cause she’s a simp)

☁️ obviously, her hands starts to creep up your thigh mid-film (shes seen it already, she’s not missing out on anything) she just caresses and caresses, trailing little circles whilst your head is laying pretty on her chest, listening to her soft little breaths (♡), trying to focus on the movie, but not exactly being able to because she keeps squeezing your upper thigh whenever you remark something about the film…

☁️ “is he gonna die at the end? i hope he doesn’t die” you ask, snuggling closer and moving your head towards her neck. “not… gonna spoil it babe” she huffs, and grabs your thigh. you let out a little squeak, because she may have pinched it a little too hard, so she tries to hide the curl forming on her lips; “am i distracting you?”, you obviously protest, and she whispers in your ear “good, keep watching then”

☁️ truthfully, ellie finds the way youre laying up against her way too distracting herself, she truly can’t focus on anything else but the sensation of having your cheek pressed up against her chest and your thigh spread out on her own… so she decides to stop playing, or for you— start playing, so she plants little kisses on your head and on your forehead, moving down to nibble at your ear. your breath hitches, and she asks again… “am i really… not distracting you at all?”

☁️ at one point, her arm moves up to your ass, caressing it in agonizingly slow circles. you somehow managed to completely miss out on three whole minutes of the flick, the one guy you thought might die probably died already, or maybe not— you really couldn’t care less, but you’re on a mission. you’re not going to give into her that easy… but mind you— ellie loves a challenge.

☁️ she slips her hand inside your panties, and you nearly go cross eyed at the sensation of her palm laying down on your core. “what are you doing?” you ask, and it escapes your mouth sounding like a half broken, shaky whisper. “just… warming up my hand… its cold— m’cold.” you almost give in completely, and its so difficult not to start grinding up on her hand and keep those whimpers caged in your throat, but luckily for you ellie doesn’t move her hand. she just lets it lay there. who will break first? you, or her?

☁️ “if you’re that cold… there’s an extra blanket— look” you signal towards the green, soft cotton blanket laying unused on the side of the bed. “nope” she says in a low tone. “you’re warming me up just fine… now keep watchin’, best parts coming up”

☁️ it goes on like this for a while, ellie telling you to “keep your eyes on the screen, babe” “gonna hurt me if you wont pay attention to my favorite fucking movie”, and it starts aching and aching and you cant keep it together anymore, so you pull her in to a wet, drooling, tongue twisting kiss. “knew you were fucking distracted”

☁️ when she pulls out the strap from her bedside table, its only a matter of two seconds till she’s deep inside of your cunt. she puts you in missionary, slapping your ass as she lays you down, you moan something so fucking muffled because she didn’t even give you time to fully adjust to the purple silicone toys size, and then completely stops. “nuh uh— you’re riding me” she grunts, “let’s go— get on fucking top and start riding”

☁️ even though she’s the one who flips you over and plunges you deep inside her cock, she demands you to do all the work. “show me how fucking bad you need it” you start squirming around her, jumping up and down with your tits bouncing, she grabs them both forcefully; “atta fucking girl” you bounce faster and faster, screaming her name and she stares hypnotized, marveling at how well her girl is taking her and doing it all on her fucking own. “taking me so fucking good—“ & it rubs on her clit so hard she almost drools on herself, and hisses “fuck yourself on my cock j—fuck… just like that, good fucking girl”

☁️ you cant take it anymore, and you start seeing complete, pure whiteness in your eyes, so you… break, and beg; “fuck me” she smirks, looking absolutely ravenous and desperate, “wan’ me to fuck you? beg for it”, so you plead, and plead, and plead for her to fuck you in her ear “please please fuck me ellie…”, it comes out so whiny and pathetic and she could never, ever say no to that.

☁️ she separates your asscheeks, peeling them apart, and starts fucking into your cunt fervently, with just short circuited breaths escaping her mouth, constant praises ringing in your ears “you like that? you fucking like that?” and oooooh, god—

how are you ever going to finish watching a whole movie with her.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #the last of us #wlw #ellie williams hq’s #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #college!ellie

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msriri030 · 2 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader

Disclaimer: I Cooked jk, Monsterau!

Simon leaned back against the wall of the training grounds, arms crossed, his crimson eyes following your every move. You had slipped outside again, lunch tray in hand, heading toward the quiet corner of the yard where the shade of the large oak tree offered refuge from prying eyes. It had become your routine, one Simon had watched unfold since you arrived as the newest sniper recruit form the Monster and Human Relationship Program.

You were a model soldier in many ways—your skill was unmatched, your discipline unwavering. The monsters and humans on the team respected you for that. But Simon knew there was more to a person than their competence. And that’s where the mystery lay. Because while the others gravitated toward camaraderie, drawn together by the shared goal of the program, you stayed apart, a lone figure avoiding both humans and monsters alike.

It wasn’t just your choice of solitude during meals that intrigued him. It was everything about you.

Each morning, you were up before anyone else, slipping into the training yard before the first rays of sunlight painted the horizon. Your movements were efficient but quiet, as though you didn’t want to disturb the sleeping base. Simon would often catch a glimpse of you through the barracks window during his own pre-dawn routine. Then, as the day unfolded, you executed your tasks with the same precise detachment, speaking only when necessary, avoiding unnecessary physical touch, and blending into the background despite your undeniable skill.

And at night, when most recruits gathered in the lounge or made use of the limited amenities offered on base, you disappeared again, retreating to your quarters—the farthest room at the edge of the base. It was the kind of place someone chose when they didn’t want to be found, didn’t want to be noticed. Like a shadow deliberately cast to avoid the light.

Simon tilted his head slightly, his curiosity deepening. Was it fear that drove you to isolation? Distrust? Or was it something else entirely? He wasn’t one to pry into people’s lives, but something about you gnawed at his instincts, the predator within him sensing there was more beneath your composed surface.

He turned away from the window, muttering to himself, “Just what are you hiding, sniper?”

Tomorrow, perhaps, he’d find a reason to strike up a conversation. Or maybe he’d follow you on one of those early mornings, see what secrets you carried when you thought no one was watching. Simon smiled faintly to himself, a mixture of amusement and intrigue flashing in his crimson eyes.

One way or another, he intended to find out.

Next day, he lost in thought on the way to interact with you, causing the Scottish man, Johnny a.k. Soap, to look at him questioning. Soap asked, “ Ghost? Come in, Ghost? Do you copy? Does anybody copy?”

When Ghost didn’t respond, Price, their captain, said, elbowing lightly, “Lieutenant? Is something wrong?”

Even though he didn’t show it, Ghost was slightly embarrassed from being caught. Ghost decided to see if he can gain any information from you. Ghost reposend, “Nothing Captain, however I was wondering about the new sniper-.”

Ghost’s dark eyes flicked over the group, his posture remaining stoic despite the mild heat crawling up his neck. He wasn’t one to let emotions slip, but the collective smirks from Soap, Gaz, and Price were enough to stoke his irritation. He shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest in that signature closed-off stance.

“It’s nothing like that,” he muttered again, his voice gruff.

Soap, sitting across the room cleaning his rifle, snorted. “Aye, nothing like that, but here ye are, askin’ about her during downtime. Curious timing, eh?” He grinned, his tone laced with mischief. “You’ve been watchin’ her, haven’t ye? Come on, admit it, Ghost. You’re interested.”

Ghost shot him with a withering glare but didn’t bother responding to the jab.

Gaz, lounging nearby, couldn’t resist joining in. “He’s right, mate. You don’t just bring someone up randomly unless they’ve caught your attention. What’s so special about her? She beat your record at the range or something?”

Ghost sighed, the familiar weight of their teasing settling on his shoulders. He knew they wouldn’t let it go until he gave them an answer. Might as well give them just enough to get them off his back.

“She’s a good soldier,” Ghost began, his tone measured, “disciplined, skilled, quiet—everything you’d want in a sniper. But...” He paused, searching for the right words. “There’s something... off about her.”

The room grew still, the teasing air replaced by a quiet tension. Even Soap, usually the first to throw in another quip, remained silent as Price spoke.

“Ghost, I understand your curiosity about the new sniper,” Price began, his voice low and steady. “Her quiet demeanor stands out, sure. But there’s more to it.”

Ghost leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked on Price as he continued.

“She’s a monster,” Price said bluntly, though his tone carried no malice. “I don’t know what kind, exactly. The higher-ups, of the program, didn’t give me much to work with. All they told me is that she’s one of a kind—a species we’ve never worked with before.”

Price paused, running a hand down his face as if choosing his words carefully. “There are rules about her, Ghost. Strict ones. She’s to avoid unnecessary contact—physical or otherwise—and wear that specialized uniform at all times. Covers her whole body, even her eyes. It’s not just for her safety; it’s for everyone else’s too.”

He sighed, his tone softening as he met Ghost’s gaze. “Whatever her reasons for keeping to herself, they’re not just personal. There’s more to this than you know. So... go easy on her, yeah?”

The weight of Price’s words hung heavy in the air. Ghost remained silent, his mind racing. He hadn’t expected that. A monster? Sure, they worked alongside plenty of non-humans, but this... this was different. It explained her isolation, her avoidance of interaction.

For the first time, Ghost felt a twinge of guilt for his curiosity. He wasn’t one to pry into others’ lives—especially not in a way that might make them feel vulnerable. But now, his interest felt less like simple observation and more like he’d been intruding on something deeply personal.

Soap broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Damn... no wonder she acts like a stray cat.”

Gaz nodded slowly, his earlier grin replaced by a thoughtful frown. “Guess she’s not just keeping her distance because she wants to.”

Ghost sat back, arms crossed, processing what he’d just learned. A monster... one of a kind... He didn’t know what that meant for her, but he could only imagine the weight she carried.

“Understood,” Ghost finally said, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll leave her be.”

Price nodded, satisfied with the response. “Good. Just let her do her job, Ghost. That’s all we need from her.”

But as the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, Ghost couldn’t shake the lingering questions in his mind. What kind of monster was she? And what kind of life had she led to end up here—isolated, hidden away in a base full of humans and monsters alike, yet tethered to rules that set her apart from everyone else?

Ghost stepped outside the base for a smoke, the crisp night air wrapping around him like a cold blanket. As he flicked the lighter in his gloved hand, his eyes naturally drifted to the familiar figure sitting under the old oak tree in the distance.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you there. Almost every night, you sat in the same spot, staring up at the endless expanse of the night sky. Ghost had made a habit of watching you from afar while lighting his last cigarette of the day.

But tonight, something was different.

A soft sound broke the stillness—a sneeze.

Ghost paused, his lighter hovering just above the tip of his cigarette. His promise to Price echoed in the back of his mind, urging him to leave you be. But the sight of you sitting there, blowing on your hands in an effort to keep warm, stirred something in him.

Before he could think better of it, he shrugged off his heavy jacket and made his way toward you, his boots crunching softly against the frosted grass.

You didn’t notice his approach until the jacket landed gently over your head, startling you. Pulling it off, you looked up, wide-eyed, and for the briefest moment, Ghost found himself captivated.

Your eyes, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, held a beauty that rivaled the night sky you so often gazed at.

The moment broke as you quickly turned your head away, fumbling to put on your glassware, a barrier between you and the world.

Ghost lit his cigarette, taking a slow drag as he stood a few feet away, the smoke curling upward like restless shadows. “Shouldn’t you have brought a jacket if you were planning to sit out here?”

Your voice was quiet, almost shy. “I did…” You glanced down at your hands before adding, “Well, someone seems to have taken it by accident.”

Ghost raised a brow, the corner of his lips twitching under his mask. “Is that so?”

You gave a small nod, pulling his jacket tighter around you. “It’s okay, though. I guess...”

“You guess?” Ghost exhaled a cloud of smoke, his tone laced with curiosity. “What kind of monster are you, walking out here in the cold like this?”

You paused, the corners of your lips curving upward into a soft, unexpected smile. Then, with a quiet giggle, you replied, “The succubus kind.”

The humor in your voice caught him off guard, and for a split second, Ghost found himself chuckling—soft and low, barely audible, but genuine.

“Is that right?” he said, leaning back slightly, watching you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t reply, your gaze drifting back to the stars. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable; it was calm, like the night itself. Ghost didn’t push for more, letting the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the base fill the air.

For now, the questions that had been lingering in his mind could wait. In this moment, the quiet, unexpected connection felt like the beginning.

Slowly but surely, Ghost and you began to grow closer. The oak tree became your silent meeting place, a refuge under the endless expanse of the starry night sky. Conversations flowed naturally, though always from a careful distance. You never touched, and neither of you lingered on the other's gaze for too long. Still, the bond between you felt stronger than anything Ghost had experienced with most people on the base.

It wasn’t something he’d planned—or even wanted at first. Yet, he couldn’t deny the pull toward you. You were different. Quiet but sharp. Reserved yet sincere. And as the nights passed, he found himself looking forward to the moments spent with you under the oak tree.

Of course, Ghost wasn’t the only one who noticed. Soap and Gaz, ever the mischief-makers, seized every opportunity to tease him about his "new habit." Their remarks were relentless, poking fun at the idea of Ghost, the stoic, cold-blooded Lieutenant, sneaking off for nightly chats with the sniper who avoided everyone else.

"Oi, Simon," Soap smirked one evening in the mess hall. "When’s the wedding? Should we start plannin’ now or wait ‘til you finally confess under that tree?”

Ghost shot him a glare that could freeze hell, but it only made Gaz chuckle. "It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for, mate,” he said. “Next thing we know, she’ll have you writing poetry."

The teasing was relentless until Price intervened one day. With a sharp tone and a look that could silence a storm, he simply said, “That’s enough.”

Soap and Gaz immediately backed off, though Ghost could still feel their amused glances whenever your name came up.

But even with the jokes and teasing behind him, Ghost couldn’t shake the growing turmoil in his chest.

There was a problem.

You were a succubus—a being created to arouse and seduce humans. It was your nature, your very essence, to draw people in, to stir desires they couldn’t control. And while you never used your abilities on him—not once—Ghost couldn’t ignore the thoughts creeping into his mind.

What was this feeling? This pull toward you? Was it real? Or was he just another victim of what you were?

The worst part was that you never gave him a reason to doubt your intentions. You were respectful of his boundaries, cautious in your words, and never tried to manipulate him like the stories claimed succubi were prone to do.

And yet, the questions haunted him.

Was this bond between you genuine? Or was it just the natural effect of who—what—you were?

Ghost wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out.

As another night fell, Ghost found himself drawn to the oak tree once more. The familiar path felt heavier tonight, weighed down by the decision he’d made. When you came into view, sitting under the tree with that quiet, happy smile, the weight of his unanswered questions pressed harder on his chest. He wanted—no, needed—to know the truth about you. But the fear of what it might cost gripped him. What if it shattered everything? What if he lost you entirely?

The thought made his steps falter, but he kept walking. He cherished these nights with you, the way you spoke about your past life and your dreams for the future. It gave him a glimpse of something softer, something kinder than the world he’d known. And more than that, you’d given him understanding.

You had listened when he’d been at his most vulnerable, when the mask he wore—both literal and figurative—had slipped enough for him to confess his deepest fear: that he might one day become a monster, just like his father.

But instead of pity or judgment, you had reassured him, your words calm and sincere. That moment stayed with him, replaying in his mind during the quiet hours when the weight of the world felt heaviest. For that, he was more thankful than he could ever express.

Yet now, after making the decision to confess what had been building inside him, he wanted nothing more than to turn back, to forget it entirely. But he didn’t.

He stopped next to you, his shadow falling over you as you looked up.

"Ghost, what’s the matter?" you asked, your voice soft, concern lacing your words. Through your eyewear, your worry was clear.

Ghost sighed, exhaling a puff of smoke before pulling the cigarette from his mouth. His voice was low, steady, but there was an uncharacteristic tension in it.

“I... I want to ask—just hear me out. It’s about our relationship.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, watching him with careful curiosity. “What are you talking about?” you asked, but as you studied his demeanor, the realization hit you.

“You caught feelings, didn’t you?” you said, the words almost a whisper. But before he could respond, you shook your head, standing abruptly. “They’re not real. They can’t be real.”

“Don’t tell me what they are,” Simon interjected, his voice firm, his eyes locking onto yours. “That’s my decision to make.”

You hesitated, shaking your head again, backing a step away. “But I’m a succubus,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “It can’t be real.” Turning, you made to walk away, convinced that leaving was the best choice—for both of you.

However before you could take another step, Simon reached out and grabbed your arm, his grip was firm but not forceful, grounding you in place.

“Just listen to me,” he said, his voice quieter now, steady but edged with an almost desperate calm.

You froze, standing still as his words hung in the air. Tears welled up in your eyes, betraying the conflict within you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, your gaze fixed on the ground as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Deep down, despite your protests and doubts, you hoped his feelings were real. You had wanted this—feared it—but wanted it all the same.

So you stayed, standing there in silence, listening as Ghost began to speak.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a bloody fool,” he admitted, running a gloved hand over the back of his neck. “But the truth is… I was suspended by you. I couldn’t grasp how you isolate yourself from everyone. I watched, believing you were hiding something… but it wasn’t that.” His cheeks flushed beneath the mask, and for a moment, he looked almost embarrassed. “It’s not just that you caught my interest. It’s that you made me envious. Envious of how you carry others’ burdens without a word, how you take on the weight of the world and just keep moving. And… how you can slip into a room without making a sound, blending into the shadows, but in the quietest moments, you make everything else feel… less. You make the stars themselves dull in comparison to you.”

He paused, his breath catching slightly as he fought to keep his composure. His hands clenched at his sides, the usual stoic exterior wavering for the first time. His voice softened but grew firmer, as if he was speaking from some deep, vulnerable place that he’d never let anyone see before.

“Now I understand—living in this, being who you are, wasn’t easy for you. And I know I’ve never felt anything like this before. Not for anyone. But I know my feelings are real.” He took a slow step forward, gently pulling you closer, his fingers grazing your cheek before his thumb gently swept across your skin. Your breath hitched, and you met his gaze—those dark, intense eyes that never showed this side of him.

With a quiet sigh, he took off your eyewear, his fingers trembling just slightly as they brushed against your face. “You may not want to believe it because you’re a succubus,” he continued softly, his voice thick with emotion. “But my heart tells me otherwise. It’s true, I can’t ignore what you are. But I won’t pretend my feelings aren’t real. I love you—with every fiber of my being.” His grip tightened just a fraction, but his gaze softened, searching yours for any sign of how you might feel.

He swallowed hard before continuing, his words a mixture of certainty and quiet fear. “And if you still reject me, I will accept it. But I had to say it. I had to tell you… because I can’t live with this silence between us anymore.”

The air between you both thickened with the weight of his words, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Everything around you faded into the background, leaving only the sound of your quiet breaths and the racing of both your hearts. His confession hung between you like an unspoken promise—vulnerable, raw, and heavy. You could feel the sincerity in his tone, the raw vulnerability that slipped through the cracks of his usual stoic exterior. He wasn’t the same Ghost you knew—the one always guarded, always hidden behind his mask. Right now, he was just Simon. And in this moment, he was laying himself bare before you.

You were left standing there, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. His words, his touch, the emotions swirling inside you. You looked down, taking a deep breath as your mind tried to process everything. Simon watched you carefully, his dark eyes never leaving your face as he waited for your response. He could feel the weight of the silence between you, and even though his heart pounded in his chest, he stayed still—patient.

You slowly removed your gloves, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for his hand. The first time you two had touched each other. Your hand hovered for a moment before gently cupping his, your skin warming against his. Simon’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened slightly. He could feel it—the connection, the electric charge that hummed between you both. His body burned with desire, the pull of your succubus powers undeniable, but he kept himself in check, waiting for you to speak.

Your voice was soft, sweet as honey, yet laced with a quiet fear that mirrored his own. "I love you too," you murmured, your gaze flickering to his eyes. "But I’m scared… that one day, you’ll see me as a monster."

Simon’s chest tightened at your words. He could feel the vulnerability in them, the raw honesty, and the fear you carried deep within your soul. But there was something else too—a love, a yearning that resonated in your touch, in your confession. It made his heart ache in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

He took a slow breath, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand, grounding you both in the moment. His voice was steady, but there was an undeniable softness in it now. "You’re not a monster to me. You’re everything but."

The sincerity in his tone was unwavering. He had already made up his mind. There was no turning back, no letting go of this connection he had found with you. He wasn’t afraid of you, not of your past or what you were. He only feared losing you. He leaned in, his eyes closing. Your lips were only inches apart, the tension palpable in the air, but he didn’t move—he was waiting for you.

You smiled, a quiet sense of peace settling over you, and before you knew it, you closed the distance, kissing Simon passionately. His body tensed at first, the warmth of your touch intoxicating, but then he melted into the kiss, his hand gently cradling the side of your face as the world around you ceased to exist.

But the moment didn’t last forever.

"Woooooo~!! Lieutenant, when’s the wedding?" Soap’s voice rang out from a distance, his tone teasing and loud, breaking the spell.

Before Simon could react, Price, his captain, slapped Soap on the back of the head with a grin. “Leave the lovebirds alone, Soap.”

You pulled back, chuckling softly at the interruption, while Gaz gave Simon a thumb up. Simon let out a sigh, shaking his head. The weight of his confession, the vulnerability of the moment, was quickly replaced by the warmth of shared laughter and affection. And despite the teasing, something told you both that this—this moment—was just the beginning of something much greater.

#cod mw2 #cod oneshot #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost fluff #john soap mactavish #captain price #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost fanfiction #simon riley fanfic #monster au #monster reader

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sissylittlefeather · 3 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 15: Porn Watching

Pretty, Pretty Baby

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, SMUT, mentions of drugs, mentions of erectile dysfunction, mentions of body insecurity

Word Count: ~1.5k

Kinktober Masterlist

You wake up in the cold dark room and reach out for Elvis in the bed. Wriggling around under the electric blanket, you finally come to the conclusion that he's not in the giant bed. This has happened for the past three nights and tonight you're not going to let it slide. You miss him. The last couple nights he's assured you he was in the bath or the kitchen, so you start in those two places. No Elvis. You wander around the big house in your scandalous little nightie and pray you don't run into any of the guys. But it's 5:30am; no one is awake yet.

Finally, you stand at the top of the stairs to the basement and listen, avoiding walking down there if you can help it. You hear a woman moaning and your blood turns to ice. How can he be cheating on you?! He assures you all the time that he loves you, despite the women that still throw themselves at him, even if he is 40 now and doesn't look how he thinks he should. You don't care. He's as sexy as he ever has been and you do everything in your power to prove to him that you feel that way, but sometimes he just doesn't believe you. But now he's having sex with someone else?

You stomp down the stairs ready to throw a bitch out of what you think of as your house, but you're shocked to find him alone. He's got some kind of skin flick on the projector and he sits on the couch with his hand wrapped around his cock. He pumps himself kind of half-heartedly, but you're still a little jealous. He's pushed you away all week. And now here he is with some movie and his own hand.

What you don't know is he's desperately trying to get hard and stay hard for you. He hasn't felt up to it in a while and he thought a little practice might help. He's been doing this for the past couple nights in an attempt to make something happen for you on your anniversary on Saturday.

"Elvis Aaron Presley. What are you doing?" You ask him once you've had enough. He jumps and covers himself quickly.

"Goddamnit, doll! You scared me. What the fuck are you doin' down here instead of in bed?" You walk over and plop down next to him on the couch, the naked women still moaning in the background.

"Woke up and you were gone. I miss you." You try to cuddle up on him and he pushes you away. He's desperately embarrassed that you found him in such a compromising state. "Fine then. Can I watch with you if I stay all the way over here?"

"Honey, this is not the kinda thing a little girl like you oughtta be watchin'."

"Elvis, I'm 28. I've seen porn before." He cringes a little, first at how young you are and then at how easily you say the word "porn". Even in 1975, he's not used to women who own their sexuality.

"Still, baby, you don't need to be watchin' it with me." You turn and lean against the pillows, running your feet down across his lap, massaging his thighs with your toes.

"Please, daddy." You pout at him and he melts. He never can resist you when you're like this.

"Alright, fine. Just for a little while." You squeal with excitement, mostly just happy to spend a little time with him.

"I don't mind if you... y'know... while we watch." You don't say the words, knowing how he hates it when you're crude.

"Naw, honey, I couldn't with you down here." You pout again, but he still shuts you down.

After a few minutes of watching, you feel yourself become aroused. It's a pretty good porno and you've always been turned on by pretty girls. There are plenty in this film and they're all touching each other, so you start to get a little hot and bothered. You look over at Elvis and he seems to be trying to purposefully ignore you. When you realize he's not going to look at you, you huff and slide your soaking wet panties down and off. You toss them into his lap. It takes him a minute, but eventually he figures out what just happened. He looks over at you to find you with your legs spread, fingers rubbing your clit as you bite your bottom lip and moan softly. He's entranced for a few seconds watching you and he feels his cock twitch in his pajama pants. Still, he can't let you carry on like this.

"Doll, just what do ya think you're doin'?" He asks, his eyes still glued to your hand on your pussy.

"Nothin' just... mmm... makin' myself feel good." You moan softly as you slide one of your fingers up into yourself.

"Now, baby, that's not somethin' you should do down here. Or at all really." He says the last part quietly, like he doesn't really believe it. He still can't look away from your hand.

"Daddy, if you won't touch me I'll just have to do it myself."

"No ma'am, little girl. You stop it right now." You can't quite tell if he's angry or playful. He seems to vacillate between the two so quickly these days. You decide to go with playful.

"Or what?"

"I'll have to bend you over my knee and spank ya a bit. Teach you a lesson." You look at him mischievously.

"You promise?" You move your fingers faster, feeling your orgasm gather in your hips. "Mmm daddy, it feels good."

Now you're just taunting him.

"Damnit, doll, cool it. Or I'll-" He stops suddenly when he tries to move and realizes he has a raging hard-on.

"You'll what, daddy?" He brightens instantly.

"I'll come over there and make you stop. Put this cock inside you. Is that what you want?" You moan, remembering how he used to fuck you on this couch before the pills got to be too much and his weight started to really bother him. You look him dead in the eye.

"That's exactly what I want, daddy." He grabs your calf and yanks you towards him, grabbing your hips and pulling you up to straddle him. You pull his pajama bottoms down just enough to let his rock-hard dick free and he bucks his hips to give you better access. Without another word, he guides you as you sink down onto him, groaning as he fills you up. A lot of things about him have changed, but his cock, when it's hard, hasn't.

"Fuck, baby. Your little pussy is so good to me." He whispers in your ear and kisses your neck as you begin to bounce and roll on him, pushing him deeper and deeper.

"It's because she loves daddy's cock." You whisper into his ear and begin to moan with the actresses on the projector. It's been a long time since he's actually fucked you. Normally, he just goes down on you, makes sure you cum a couple times, and then tries to go to sleep. But not tonight. Tonight his cock is fully functioning and he plans to enjoy it while it lasts.

"Lay down, baby." He whispers to you and you quickly rearrange as he climbs on top of you, praying he stays hard through the position change. And he does, pushing into you as you wrap your legs around him.

"Yes daddy... I'm gonna cum!" You moan as he hits your g-spot repeatedly. His dick always was perfect. "Fuck!"

You holler and shudder as your release washes over you, crashing into you like so many salty waves in the ocean. He feels your walls flutter and pulse around him and grunts.

"You want a baby, honey?" He asks, like he always does when he's fucking you so deep. You answer the way you always do, despite being on the pill.

"Yes daddy. Cum inside me!" That's all it takes for him to rut into you, shooting you full of his release. His hips stutter into you and you hold him tightly on your chest until he comes back down.

"My pretty, pretty baby." He mumbles as he kisses your chest, fully spent. You run your fingers through his hair and whisper to him affectionately.

"You know I love you, right?"

"I know baby."

"Will ya quit bein' so melodramatic about all this then?" Elvis shakes his head.

"I can't make any guarantees, babydoll. But right now I'm happier than I have been in months." You lie there together for a while, silently, as you stroke his hair. Eventually you realize that his breathing has evened and his body is relaxed. He's asleep, finally.

You burrow into the pillows and make sure he is comfortably wrapped around you. He always sleeps best after you make love. Before you drift off, you kiss his forehead and whisper.

“I love you with all of me, you silly man.” To your surprise, he grumbles against your chest.

“Thank you.” And you know that in this moment, that means more than any “I love you too” ever could.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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searchingforgravity · 4 months ago

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Outside sex with elvis

Aah, I love this idea! I hope you guys like this one ♥️

Word Count: 1916

Walking along the stables, there's a slight breeze in the air. It's been a while since you've been out here, just relaxing peacefully with the horses. You look toward the house, admiring its beauty. Elvis should be home soon, he said he was going to meet with the boys for lunch and talk about an upcoming project. He wanted you to come but you hung back, telling him you wanted some time to yourself.

You can't believe you ever got so lucky. To have someone look at you the way Elvis does. You weren't sure you would ever fall in love until the moment you met him. The very moment you spoke to him, you just knew you would love him for the rest of your life, even if he didn't love you. Thank God he did.

"Hey, mama," A soft southern voice calls from behind you before you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.

You jump at the surprise of your husband's sudden presence, making him chuckle as he kisses your neck.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I walked around the other way to surprise you, so I guess I did it on purpose."

You laugh as you lean against him.

"You're mean."

He sighs, his hands beginning their familiar roam on your body.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry for bein' mean, I'm just bad. I can't help it," he grumbles, a recognizable want seeping through his voice as he pulls you against him with more intent.

That's when you feel his erection press up against you.

"Did the boys come back to the house?"

You turn in his arms to face him and he smiles when he looks in your eyes before taking your face in his hands, leaving a gentle peck on your lips. Leaving you wanting more of him.

"Why, would it matter?"

You roll your eyes playfully.

"Well I guess it depends on what you’re trying to do," you mutter, your hips coming to press against his, making a breath fall from his lips, his hands falling to your hips to keep you in place.

"They could watch for all I care, but...no. No one's here, baby."

You hum as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you as you capture his lips in yours. He groans softly, gently biting down on your bottom lip. Groaning in response, you pull him against you with more vigour, suddenly needing to be as close to him as possible.

"Let's go inside," you whisper as you start to pull away.

His grip only tightens on your hips as he keeps you pressed against him.

"I wanna do it out here."

A shock runs through you, one of surprise and arousal.

"What if someone sees?"

"Who?" he groans, barely being able to focus on your words as you realize just how aroused he is, maybe from the very idea of being with you in his backyard.

You are stumped, and your thinking skills start to fail you as he sucks a spot on your neck that he knows makes you come undone.

"I saw you out here by yourself. You looked so good, baby. I just wanna have you out here. I couldn't stop thinkin' about it when I was watchin' you."

You don't need him to say anything else as your hands suddenly fly to his belt, undoing it. Once you get the belt undone, you quickly unzip his jeans, pulling them down along with his underwear, his cock springing free as you slowly fall to your knees.

"God, baby," he groans at your enthusiasm as his hand comes to rake through your hair, pushing it out of your face so he can see you take his cock in your mouth.

Looking up at him, that's exactly what you do. You tease him a little by licking his tip, his eyes immediately glossing over as his lips part. Then you lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft, causing a soft noise to escape his throat.

"Good girl, sweetheart."

The ache between your legs intensifies. Your eyes leave his as you focus more on the task at hand. You allow your eyes to close as you take more of him in your mouth, causing a groan to fall from his lips as he gathers your hair in one hand.

When you get as much of him as you can manage in your mouth, you take one hand and softly grasp his balls, the other hand grasping his hip to steady yourself as you pull him out of you before sinking back down on him slowly.

"Baby...Goddamn that feels nice," he moans.

Hearing the strain in his voice causes a pulse through your body. You need him. You moan onto his dick as you gaze up at him, finding him looking down at you with some effort. His eyes hooded and trying not to close. He looks gorgeous.

"Is this making you ache, honey, suckin' me off out here? You just need my cock so bad, don't you?"

He pets your hair as he watches his cock disappear and reappear from your mouth. A beautiful sight. You nod to the best of your ability, your tongue coming to lick the underside of him again, making him inhale sharply.

"Alright, baby, get up here."

You release him from your mouth, stumbling to your feet as you wipe the grass from your knees, now having imprints on them. Elvis is quick to take your sweater off. You shiver at the November breeze and Elvis rubs your arms in comfort.

"I'll get you nice and warm soon, baby. I promise," he grumbles before molding his lips to yours.

You sigh as your hands run through his hair, moaning shamelessly as his tongue slips into your mouth. Pulling away, you grasp his shirt before pulling it above his head. You about to release it onto the ground when he takes it.

"For us to lay on," he mutters, giving you an open mouthed kiss before laying it down behind you.

He is quick with the button on your pants before pulling them down your legs along with your underwear, leaving you in just your bra.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he mumbles, unabashedly staring at you before sweeping his eyes up your body, his hands coming to undo your bra.

Throwing it off to the side, he grasps your ass, giving it a firm squeeze, making you blush before scooping you up by your thighs, laying you down on his shirt.

As he comes to hover over top of you, his lips come back to yours hungrily.

"Are you wet for me baby? Do you want me as much as I want you, huh sweetheart?" he groans almost incoherently as he comes to nibble on your earlobe, his hand making it's way slowly to your center.

"Yes, sir, I'm so wet. I need you so bad. Please," you whine.

He loves the nickname and you love saying it. He hums as he hears this, your claims confirmed as he reaches your aching core.

"Oh, baby. You're so good. Good job, honey, you make me so hard," he groans, his finger trailing through your folds before finding its place on your clit.

He's learned exactly what you like and how you like it. Sometimes he likes to tease you and make you whine and beg for him to touch you right, but not today. Today, he needs you so bad.

"Feel my cock again, feel how bad I need you. It's all for you, (Y/N)."

You do as he says, and he's hardened drastically more than when he was in your mouth. You moan as he increases his speed on your clit.

"Elvis, please. I need you."

Grasping your thighs in his hands, he pulls your legs to wrap around his waist, positioning himself at your entrance.

You cry out at finally feeling him inside you as he gently pushes into you, not stopping until he's fully inside. He groans as he gives you time to adjust, he hands coming to cup your breast, his thumbs flicking your nipples.

Gasping, you arch into him, your eyes fluttering open to see his hooded eyes fixated on your chest, entranced as he leans forward, licking his lips before attaching them to your left nipple.

"Fuck, Elvis," you whine as he begins to thrust, pulling out before softly pushing back into you, his mouth still latched onto you.

He hums, his hands frantically coming to your thighs, squeezing harshly before he suddenly increases his speed. Gradually, he increases his thrusts before he is steadily pounding into you, making you gasp for air.

Your eyes squeeze closed as you try to contain your shouts, his thumb coming to circle your clit as the same rough speed. Elvis grumles loudly into your chest, nibbling on your nipple, causing your hands to grab his back, your nails sinking into it.

Finally his face comes to meet yours, his breath hot and heavy as he rests his forehead on yours.

"You look so fuckin' hot like this, baby. Goddamn," he grumbles, leaving another open mouth kiss on your lips.

You greet it as you pull him further down onto you, your head arching back at the steady pounding.

"Yeah?" Elvis murmurs, looking at your reaction, your eyes straining to stay open. "That feel good baby, my dick inside you?"

You moan at his words, grasping onto him.

"Oh, I know, mama. You can hardly take it, can you?" he mews. "My baby just loves my cock so much, doesn't she?"

You groan as you rake you nails down his back, causing him to groan as well.

"You're pussy feels so nice," he grunts, his face falling to your neck, signalling he's getting close to his breaking point.

"Elvis, you feel so good, I can't take it," you whine, your orgasm quickly building at his words and motions, your back arching.

He moans loudly at this, finally hearing how he's making you feel. He loves when you make him work for it.

"There's my baby, I know sweetheart, it feels so good, don't it?" he grumbles, his steady pound coming erratic as his thumb keeps its steady tempo on your clit, pressing down gently.

"Tell me your close, honey, I wanna hear it," he encourages, leaving nibbles on your neck.

He can tell you're almost there, but it gets him off hearing it from your lips.

"I'm so close Elvis, Fuck," you groan, your nails digging so hard into his shoulders it might draw blood.

He hums loudly, almost coming undone himself.

"Come for me then, right on my cock mama."

And so you do, shouting into the empty yard as you pulsate around him.

"Jesus," he shouts, his hips stuttering as he empties into you, slowly rocking inside to ride out both of your orgasms.

You both gasp for breath as he brings his now sweat covered forehead to yours. Leaning up, you connect your lips to his, and he gladly accepts, his hands lazily traveling up your body, grazing your nipples before resting on either side of your face, pulling his head up to look at you.

You return his gaze as you just look at each other, blissed out. You bring your hand to his cheek and his mouth chases your thumb before biting on it playfully. You laugh as he grins down at you.

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