#love bea so damn much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivwritesfics · 1 month

Text

Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Four - Princess And Her Prince

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

Series Masterlist

Princess And Her Prince

Dear readers,

We at the Monaco Press would like to apologise for out earlier comments, hinting that Princess Y/N could have possibly been dating Fernando Alonso, driver for the Aston Martin F1 team.

It seemed that, just last night, the party princess was attending dinner with none other than our very own, Charles Leclerc. The two aren't known to be friends, but the Ferrari driver is known to have a friendship with Prince Henri.

Ever since the pictures of the princess and her possible beau were released, many fans have been theorising as to what is going on. Many suspect that this was all set up by Prince Henri himself. We are all aware just how much the Prince loves the five time race winner.

But here at the Monaco Press, we are thinking a little deeper than that. It is no secret that Princess Y/N could use some good PR. And what better way to get good PR than to date the people's Prince?

Henri exhaled as he threw the newspaper down. "I'm starting to really hate the Monaco Press," he muttered to himself as he rubbed his temples.

There was little more he could do but parade them through the streets in a golden carriage.

He had seen the pictures leaked of she and Charles having dinner. Even he believed they were in love and he had set the entire thing up. All he could do was wait and see what happened.

***

Ever since the pictures of her and Charles had been released, along with that damn article from the Monaco Press, her group chat had been going crazy. Her friends couldn't quite believe what they were seeing

Party Paupers 🎉🎉

Luc:

YOU SLY BASTARD

Amelie:

How tf did you pull Charles Leclerc?

Luc:

I have never been more jealous of you

On a side note, what does he see in you?

Y/N:

Wdym I'm a catch

But also

Hole in the wall tonight?

I beg

Luc:

only if you bring your new boyf

The hole in the wall was a little, lesser known bar in Monaco. It was the perfect place for the party princess and her friends to just chill out.

She got herself ready, dressed down in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and headed out to the hole in the wall.

As usual, she was the first one there. The owner slid her usual drink towards her. "Haven't seen you in a while," he said as he cleaned glasses. She didn't doubt that he'd read the tabloid about her, knew what she had been up to.

She shrugged her shoulders and sipped her drink. "You know how life is," she said.

She finished her first drink by the time Luc came into the bar. He pushed his dark hair out of his blue eyes and strode towards her. "Tell me everything," he said as he sat in the seat beside her and ordered a drink.

"There's nothing to tell." Her drink was filled up and she downed it. "We met at the Grand Prix, he asked me out and... here we are." She finished her second gin and tonic and placed it down onto the bar. It was quickly filled up again. "When are Amélie and Bea getting here?" She asked

Luc shrugged his shoulders, but it was clear he didn't care about their whereabouts. "So, are you and Charles going steady now? Could you invite him here?"

"Luc, I just want to have a drink in peace," she groaned.

But then, Amélie and Bea walked into the bar. "Thank God," she muttered under her breath, ordering a beer instead of gin.

But Amélie and Bea were as determined to annoy her as Luc was. "He doesn't have our approval yet," they said the minute they sat down. "We need to hit him."

Her head hit the bar and she groaned. "You guys are kidding," she said as she straightened herself up and sipped her beer. "You can't meet him."

"Yeah, we can."

"We must!"

One drink later and she had her phone out, texting Charles. They had hardly texted each other since their date, just said hello to ensure they had each others phone numbers.

She sent him a quick text and slipped her phone into her pocket, not expecting any reply.

Charles hadn't yet left Monaco. In just a day he'd be leaving, heading off for the next Grand Prix. While he'd been in Monaco he'd seen his family, kept up with his training, and gone on a date with a princess.

It had exhausted him. For the entire day he sat at his piano, ignoring his phone as he just messed around. Soft melodies filled his apartment.

In the evening, Charles finally checked his phone. He scrolled through his notifications, ignoring most of them until he got to his text messages.

He answered his mother, his brother and Prince Henri. He scrolled through the rest of his messages until he got to her.

Her. Why was she texting him? Sure, they had exchanged numbers, but Charles hadn't expected her to use it unless she wanted to set something up for the tabloids.

Princess Y/N:

Waaaant to meef Mr atc the holg in the f wall,

Charles couldn't stop the surprised laugh that left his lips. He quickly typed out a reply and wandered into his bedroom to get dressed.

Charles Leclerc:

I'll be there in ten x

He got dressed as quickly as he could. In all of his years of living in Monaco, Charles had never heard of the hole in the wall. He searched for it on Google maps, but even that wasn't entirely clear.

He found himself parking his car anywhere and wandering down a street that didn't feel entirely safe. Halfway down the street (it was really more of an alleyway), there was a door with a beaten up and battered sign. The Hole In The Wall.

He could hear all of the noise as he pushed open the door. But, the minute he stepped into the bar.

Charles looked around, looking for any sign of the princess, but bewildered faces stared back at him. "Um... hello," he said and offered a wave.

"HE'S REAL!" Came a shout from the left of the bar.

So, that was the direction he started in. Charles walked past the bar until he found a small group of people.

Two girls stared at him, but not in the way girls usually stared at him. It was more like they were scrutinising him as they stepped to the side to reveal her.

There she was, on a bar stood with an empty drink in her hands. She laughed as she leaned against a boy with dark hair. "I was almost 110% sure nobody was going to show up. Or Henri would have dragged you out again."

Charles looked at the guy with a frown. Was this her boyfriend? Why not at least fake date this man?

"What can I get you, Charlie?" She asked him, her words slurring together.

Charlie. He froze up at that. It was rare he'd let anybody call him Charlie, and he certainly didn't think he and Y/N were on that level, yet.

He shook his head. "Let me buy you a drink, princess."

At that, she fell quiet, her expression turning from a smile to a glare. "Forget it," she muttered under her breath, turning her attention back to her friend.

Charles stood there somewhat awkwardly while the two of them conversed. And then there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned quickly, flattening himself against the bar as he looked at the two girls.

"So, you're this Charles she's been talking about," one of them said.

"What makes you think you're good enough for our Y/N?" The other asked.

Charles wasn't entirely sure how to answer. But it confirmed one thing for him, that his friends didn't know it was all fake. "I... uh, I think she's really great," he said, drumming his fingers against the bar. "She's fun, she's pretty and she's sharp."

But still, her friends glared. "You're way in over your head," the first said. She let out a dry laugh and shook her head, returning to her drink.

For the next few minutes, things were uncomfortable. Charles stood there, watching the girls to the left and the pair to his right. He watched as the man kissed the princess's head and turned his attention to Charles.

"Smoke break," he said, pulling the carton of cigarettes from his pocket. He grabbed Charles arm and pulled him out of the bar.

Charles spared one look at the princess, but she turned away, still wearing a scowl.

Once outside, the man leaned against the wall and lit his cigarette. "Want one?" He asked, offering the pack to Charles. But he shook his head. "Ah, right. You're a high performance athlete, and all that." He placed his cigarette between his lips and offered his hand to Charles. "I'm Luc."

"Charles." But Luc definitely already knew that.

Luc drew in a breath, bringing the smoke to his lungs before he exhaled. "You want a bit of advice for the princess" He asked, but Charles was pretty sure he wasn't going to get a choice in the matter. "She hates who she is. She hates being a princess so maybe stop reminding her of it."

"I... thanks," he said, leaning beside him on the wall.

But Luc wasn't finished. "She must like you," he said. "Or she never would have introduced you to us." He tapped the ash from his cigarette and placed it back between his lips. "You can go now."

Charles did just that. He thanked Luc once again and headed back inside the bar. Immediately he walked over to the bar. "Gin and tonic, please," he said to the girl behind the bar. She took a moment to make it and then passed it to him.

He picked it up and walked it over to the prince- Y/N. He walked it over to her and placed it down in front of her. "A peace offering," he said.

She picked it up and sipped, all while staring at him. When she finished it in four large gulps and placed it down, she smiled. "Now you know what not to do."

She was too drunk for proper conversation, Charles realised as she leaned against him. But he still tried. He'd get her home soon enough. "I've got a question," he said and she looked up at him. "Your friend Luc, why doesn't Henri have you 'date' him?" He asked quietly.

Suddenly she was laughing, a laugh that echoed around the hole in the wall. "Charles," she managed through her laugh. "Charlie. He's famously gay."

Charles couldn't help it as his cheeks reddened. He had no idea who Luc Sinclair was.

Conversation flowed somewhat easily. But, before he knew it, he had his arm around her waist, her arm around his neck, as he carried her out to the car. "You're wasted," he said as he pulled open the car door and helped her into the seat.

She giggled as she looked up at him. "Get used to it if you're gonna be dating me," she said and Charles shut the door.

For the entire ride to her apartment, she fiddled with the radio. But Charles didn't much mind.

When they got to her building, she climbed out of the car and began stumbling towards the lobby doors. Charles was quick to follow, wrapping his arm around her to keep her upright. "What're you doing?" She asked, stopping in front of the doors.

"Helping you up to your apartment," he answered.

She shook her head. "You can't see my apartment."

Charles pulled open the lobby door and helped her inside. "No, Charles," she moaned as he led her to the elevator. "It's all messy and not very princess like at all."

Well, Charles didn't much care about that.

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @not-nyasa

Taglist (OPEN): @charizznorizz @rafaaoli @myescapefromthislife @spilled-coffee-cup @janeholt3 @mamako23 @randomgirlnumber13 @booksobsess @chonkybonky @mindflay3r @ananyasr1bughead @sltwins @lordpercevalcharles @jaydensluv @life-of-a-lazy-girl @shobaes @leclercdream @iamkaku

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader smut #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

255 notes · View notes

mrsquill · 9 months

Text

Self-care is staying up till 1am giggling and kicking my feet and reading my favourite sexy one-shot Joel Miller fics

Droppig my recs below because if people haven’t already read them… they’re missing the fuck OUT. (Also praying these authors add more to these stories because. Reasons.)

I Know It When I See It… I needed a personal time out after I read this. Then I went back and read it again. And again. And again. Joel Miller is a porn star in 1976 and reader is paired with him for her first scene. So, yeah. Why are you still reading this? YOU SHOULD BE READING THAT. It’s filthy, vintage, breathtaking and beyond the realms of anything I could cope with. Sensational writing. A++++ @bageldaddy, you knew what you were doing.

His Favourite Girl. Anyone who has a fantasy about Joel Miller being your guitar teacher, look no fucking further. Bea has you COVERED. Gorgeous, generous descriptions of Joel and the fingers that have us in a chokehold. We are reader, she is us. The whole thing is a sensational tease and I love Bea for it. I ate it up and I want MORE. Naughty, addictive and beautifully written. Nails were hit on the HEAD by my love @cupofjoel

(Re)union with Elvis. Now, this isn’t Joel. It’s Javi, my sweet beloved. (But I beg you check out Sam’s Joel content, your own fault if you don’t). This is going on here howeverrr because it’s one of my FAVOURITE one shot stories of all time. I am a sucker for Javi smut and this, paired with old school flames and getting drunk in Vegas? I knew I was gonna love it. AND I DID. Sam crafted this so stunningly from start to finish. Just so hot and full of heart and I’ll never forget it. @tieronecrush

This One Thing You Did.. Whew. Living out a fantasy of fucking Joel in a club bathroom in 2002?! I felt like this was written for me, as someone who loves that song so damn much lmao. This is so sexy and carefree and downright dirty. The kinda fic that makes you scream THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE. Reader in this fic is really that fucking girl and I love her. 10/10, as all of Cat’s works are. @joelscruff

#i love doing these sorry lmao #and I WONT BE STOPPED #I SHANT #self care sessions #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut

553 notes · View notes

familyvideostevie · 4 months

Text

living high until that fatal day

a/n: i never do this. literally, never. when i'm not here i'm writing stuff that's not x reader for ao3 and this is a fic i posted over there. it's a time loop story about joel and ellie. @bageldaddy told me i had to post it here. without her this fic would not exist. thank you so much, bea. so, here we go. if you read it, thank you. let me know what you think. joel miller & ellie williams gen fic. 7.5k words warnings: Time Loop, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, kind of???, it resolves, Suicide, only in one of the loops!, Canon-Typical Violence, joel gets stuck and has to figure it out, Father-Daughter Relationship, thoughts about sacrifice and love, POV Joel, mostly, this one is kind of intense folks, major character death tag is cause well the loop ends one way or another, gonna diverge at the end, but it ends well!!! i promise, also this is pretty firmly game but hbo folks should be okay!

summary: joel finds himself stuck in a time loop of that day in salt lake city.

Joel lies to her.

He's got dried blood under his fingernails and his shoulder aches from the kick of the rifle and he's so, so tired.

But he lies to her.

If he was a smarter man he'd have thought of something better. Told her that the hospital got raided or they had a FEDRA mole, how the whole thing was a sham from the start. He doesn't know if she was awake for any of it. If the last thing she remembers is him reaching for her and failing to save her. If she remembers what it feels like to drown.

It's hard to look at her in the mirror but he manages. Just keep driving, hands tight on the wheel. Don't white knuckle, don't spook her. She's in the car. She's safe. He did it.

"We found the Fireflies," he says. She doesn't look at him. "Turns out there's a...a whole lot more like you, Ellie. People that're immune. It's dozens, actually."

There's a strange pull in his gut, a pull that he's felt a few times before in the moments before everything went south. When the soldier pointed his gun by the river, when Tess looked at him on her last day, when he fell off the ledge in Colorado. But he ignores it.

"Ain't done a damn bit of good, either. They've actually st--" Ellie closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. She doesn't look at him. "They've stopped looking for a cure. I'm takin' us home. I'm sorry."

She turns her back to him and the pull becomes a burn, becomes a black hole under his ribcage taking everything with him. He blinks once, twice, wonders if he got shot and didn't notice, if he cracked a rib and it punctured his lung, if --

The road in front of him disappears.

He can't see a damn thing -- not like the lights went out, like there is nothing to see. There is nothing in front of him at all.

Then, Joel wakes up yesterday.

___

He jolts awake with a strangled yell. Ellie kneels over him, the rifle he taught her to hold slung over her shoulder. It's just past dawn based on the color of the sky and how he can make out most of her face, her withdrawing hand and her unimpressed but slightly concerned frown.

"You were talking again," Ellie says. "Nightmares?"

Joel tears his eyes from her and thunks his head back down on his crumpled up jacket. The trees stretch high above him and he tries to get it together so he doesn't spook her.

They’re camped within sight of the highway. Salt Lake City has been looming for days now and Joel doesn't want to take any chances. The ring-road is almost clear, dotted here and there with cars and a fair amount of supplies, enough that Joel suspects people haven't been here for some time. If this is another Colorado State situation, he's going to have to put Ellie in a car and take them back to Jackson before she does something stupid.

She's fine. Well, no, not quite. Things aren't the same and they never will be but he can tell she's doing her best and he won't ask more than that. Their pace has slowed this week and he's having a hard time figuring out if she's sliding back into some sort of post-Colorado haze or if she's nervous about actually arriving in Salt Lake.

God knows he's nervous as hell.

But every day she'll walk as far as he tells her to and won't complain. He knows she wants to get there. They have to get there and it has to work -- because he doesn't know what they're going to do otherwise.

She asked him a question. Nightmares. Joel sits up and drags his hand down his face.

"Somethin' like that."

Ellie shrugs and starts to clean up their camp now that he's awake. He still hates letting her take watch, but she needs to feel in control of things, so they split it most nights. She hums a little bit as she works and he has hopes that today might be a good day.

But that dream... It comes back in flashes: the giraffes, the tunnel. Ellie hanging from the side of the bus because she jumped to save him, her small frame sinking slowly, just out of reach. The crack of her ribs underneath his hands. The hospital. The Fireflies.

Joel gets up, rolls his shoulder at a phantom pain and looks down at his hands. Crusted with dirt and nothing more.

Jesus Christ. He's losing it.

They set off.

The blue hospital sign seems to shine in the spring sun all too soon.

"This is where we get off. Let's go, kiddo."

Joel talks even though he knows she's not listening. He talks to take his mind off of the echo that sits at the base of his neck with every step. Has he told her he'll teach her guitar before? He's been thinking it for months.

Ellie trails behind him, kicking rocks and half-heartedly searching cars when he asks her to. She heads for a faded blue sedan but he stops her.

"Blue one won't open, don't bother."

The look she gives him makes him think about what he just said. "How do you know that?"

He blinks. How does he know that? Before he can explain it, Ellie shrugs and keeps walking.

The disinterest is new and it doesn't sit well with him. She's been through a lot, more than any kid deserves, and they're almost there. He figures it's worse today because of that.

"I dreamt about flying the other night."

Joel's stomach twists. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Go on, tell me about it."

She tells him about her dream, about how it felt to fly and then fall, and he is dizzy with deja vu.

"I've never been on a plane." Ellie looks at him like he can tell her what it means. Like he has any damn answers at all. "Isn't that weird?"

Joel hums and swallows the lump in his throat. The bus terminal. Ellie, drowning. Firefly after Firefly in his path. His hands flex around a gun that isn't there.

"Well, you know. Dreams are weird." It tastes like a lie in his mouth but he can't figure out why.

It gets worse when they find the bus station, when she runs off in search of something that's got her smiling. Her small hand reaches for the giraffe, her eyes bright, but Joel feels like he's watching it through a fog. He knows what she's going to say before she says it.

"So fucking cool."

Joel has seen a lot of weird shit in his life but whatever is happening here is leagues above the rest. It bumps up against something in his brain, like the answer is just out of reach but he can't fucking get there. Always a step behind when it counts.

Ellie hands him a picture of his dead daughter and something in him comes dangerously close to snapping. Instead of gratitude or sorrow or anything that would make sense, he's terrified.

He's fucking terrified because this happened. Which means he knows what comes next.

But there's no time to worry about it. They pick their way through the tunnel, through the runners and the clickers and the fucking bloaters. The pressure on his neck gets heavier, gets almost unbearable. He's strung tighter than he's been in years, like the walls are closing in on him and there's a timer he can't see.

When they get to the rapids, he waits for Ellie to get to the other side of the bus until he jumps on it but it dislodges. The dam in his head breaks and he yells, screams at her to run, to leave him, but she jumps on the bus anyway.

She drowns.

Joel doesn't doubt that the Fireflies are coming -- he hears them -- but he doesn't take his eyes off of her, doesn't stop the chest compressions until he's knocked out.

The rest of it is a blur, his sense of reality already warped by his need to get to the operating room. To save her.

Joel picks them off one by one, floor by floor, hardly taking note of how familiar it all feels. He doesn't even give the surgeon a chance to speak before he's dead, a bullet between the eyes. He knows they'll make it to the elevator. He kills Marlene. He drives them away.

He lies.

He wakes up yesterday again.

___

It takes a few days before Joel purposely deviates from what he's thinking of as the script. His head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds when he wakes in the clearing, Ellie's eyes on him.

He thinks about it as they pack up camp. Can he get them out of here? Would that be allowed? The rules of this aren't clear to him but he figures it can't hurt to try. They could turn around right now and make it back to Jackson in a week or so.

He watches Ellie carefully arrange her things in her bag, watches her stop to admire a butterfly in the branches above. He watches her and tries to see her alive and not pale on an operating table.

"Ellie," he says. "I got a bad feelin' about this."

She loves to tell him he's overreacting but today she crosses her arms and sits back on her heels. "What do you mean?"

Her scream as she falls into the water. Her ribs cracking beneath his hands. The piercing alarm in the hospital, her body warm but limp in his arms.

"What if we waited?" She frowns but he keeps going. "Went back to Jackson, rested up. Took a break. Come back in a few months with a bit of a crew. Tommy'll give us some guys, hell, I bet he'll come with if you want --"

"No," Ellie says sharply. There's an edge to her voice he hasn't heard in a long time. "Joel, shut up."

"Ellie --"

She stands abruptly, takes a few steps back. "I said no." The look on her face tells Joel he's already lost. "Are you -- are you fucking kidding me? You want to go back? Now?"

He sighs. "Just to rest up. We don't know what we're walking into --"

Ellie throws her hands around in disbelief. Her eyes look wet. Christ, he's made her cry again. He promised himself he wouldn't do that.

"We don't know if they'll still be there."

"We don't know if they are there."

"And we won't find out if we fucking run away like cowards!"

Joel stands. "I don't want another Colorado State situation, Ellie --" Her face shutters. Mistake.

"Don't bring up Colorado," she growls. "You don't know what that was like."

Damn right he doesn't. He knows by now what happened but he'll never know how hard it was for her to survive when he was busy dying on that mattress. But he has to try something or they'll just end up here again tomorrow. Yesterday. Whatever.

The idea of her suffering makes his hackles rise, makes his blood run cold

"Can I finish a god damned sentence?" he snaps. Ellie is undeterred and snaps back.

"Not if it's going to be about leaving. We-- I -- we're not fucking leaving. Not after everything. We can't."

Joel sighs and drags a hand down his face. This girl. He's trying to save her and she can't see it. There's no way to make her see it and it's his fault. She should know by now that he'd do anything, anything, for her. He lost that battle a long time ago, probably longer ago than he'd like to admit.

"I know," he tells her. "Just...if you want to give it all up, to go back, we can. We don't have to go through with this."

Ellie's eyes are blazing and her tone is disappointed. It cuts deep. "Yes we do. I thought you'd understand that, Joel."

He follows her this time as she stalks down the highway towards the hospital. No mention of six strings, no dreams about planes. They catch the giraffes but she doesn't stick around to watch them for as long. It's a different kind of loss to be without her smile, her laughter. Joel wishes he'd never opened his god damned mouth.

"I'm sorry," he says. "For earlier." Ellie pauses on the stairs and half turns to look up at him. "I know it's important to you."

She sighs. "I know you mean well." Joel closes his eyes. He knows what comes next. "But there's no halfway with this. Once we're done, we'll go wherever you want, okay?"

He plays his part for the rest of the day, just to get it over with.

___

Next time, Joel waits until they're watching the giraffes to try something different.

"So," he says. "This everything you were hoping for?"

Ellie gives him her half-smile. "It's got its ups and downs, but...you can't deny that view, though."

He seizes his chance. "Wanna go down there?"

She perks up. "Really? Do you think they'll let us get close?"

"They might. Let's try."

They manage to backtrack a little bit and end up on the field. It smells like a zoo but Ellie is thrilled to be so close so they post up on the roof of a rusty FEDRA Jeep. Two of the giraffes end up eating out of the tree right above them. Ellie holds her breath.

"They just...don't care, do they?" she whispers. "How long do you think they've been here?"

She leans into his side and cranes her neck to watch one of them use its tongue.

"Don't know," he says. "Big ones could've been from before. But the tiny one s'probably younger than you."

"So cool," she says again. "They're from a zoo, right? I wonder if anything else lives in the city."

They've been sitting here long enough that the sun has started to set. Joel allows himself to hope.

"Might be. What do you say we spend the night here and look on the way to the hospital tomorrow? Daylight'll do us better."

Ellie chews on his suggestion. "I guess," she says. "Are we safe here?"

"Should be." Joel has no idea, frankly. He sure as hell wants them to wake up here in the morning. He wants to make good on this idea, wants to show her something else that'll make her smile. He wants this to be a bizarre, unexplainable day that he'll forget about with time.

"I'll keep watch."

They set up camp crowded against the fence so Joel can see the whole field. The giraffes leave them alone and Ellie falls asleep quickly after they eat.

In the quiet open air the dread in his gut returns full-force and he knows he's wrong. Again.

A branch cracks and he whirls around, rifle in hand to find three men pointing their guns at him through the wire. They might be wearing Firefly jackets but he can't tell. He doesn't care. Joel dares to look at Ellie for a second and sees she's still asleep.

It's a mistake.

One of them follows his gaze and his eyes widen.

"Holy shit," he whispers. "She looks like who Marlene said --"

"Shut up," the second one hisses. "On the ground, old man."

"How are you gonna get around that fence, hotshot?" he says. "Ellie. Ellie, wake up."

She blinks a few times and sees his stance. scrambling to her feet with her knife in hand.

"Holy shit. What the fuck?"

"Get behind me."

One of the soldiers points his gun at her.

"Don't move."

It's chaos after that. The guys shout at each other.

"Don't point it at her! Don't you remember the fucking briefing?"

"You hadn't even joined when we got here, you don't know. We've been looking for her for months --"

"If you shoot her we're all dead --"

Joel locks eyes with Ellie.

"When I say run, you run. Okay?"

The fear in her eyes turns to determination. Brave girl, he thinks. I'm sorry. He waits for the idiot pointing at her to look away and takes a deep breath. What's one more day?

"Run!"

Joel doesn't check to see if she obeys before firing through the fence. The rifle is incredibly powerful at such a short range and where there was once a head there's only mist. Joel clears the chamber as fast as he can and gets the second one in the shoulder but he's not fast enough for a third and before he realizes it he's on his back in the grass.

The Firefly's assault rifle litters Joel's chest with bullets but he doesn't feel it until he tries to take a breath and nothing comes. It's like he's underwater.

At least he didn't make her cry this time.

Joel isn't much of a believer in anything but he decides fairly quickly that he's in Hell or something close. God knows he deserves it.

His sins are countless, his ledger dripping with red just like his hands. They will never be clean. What he can't figure out is how he got here. Did he die somewhere in St. Mary's? Is the real world somewhere else beyond his reach, now? If he died then what happened to Ellie?

He tries to make tallies in the bark of a tree on the edge of camp but they disappear every time he wakes up. He makes do with his own slowly unspooling brain. Two, five, ten.

Ellie is much the same every time but somewhere around day twenty she asks him about it. "How do you know where everything is?"

They're in the bus depot before the tunnel. He's taking them quickly around the tents, putting off Ellie handing him a photo of his dead daughter. It's muscle memory at this point. A pair of pliers here, some rags there. A half-empty but uncracked bottle of hooch behind that blood-stained bed, some bullets under that overturned partition.

"Just payin' attention."

"I pay attention!"

Joel uses the excuse to grin at her. It's hard sometimes to remember that she has no idea what's coming, that he can and should be good to her every chance he gets. The violence has already started to blur together in his mind. Killing everyone in the hospital is by far the easiest part of this fucking loop. These parts are harder.

"Didn't say you don't."

"I feel like that was a double negative."

She's still energized from the giraffes and he knows she's working up the courage to talk about Sarah, but right now he wants to spend time with her. He spots the Firefly medal tangled in the shattered floodlight and points it out.

"Ellie," he says. She's at his side in seconds, looking up at him with eyes brighter than he's seen in weeks. "Wanna get that down?"

She gives him her classic why are you like this look. "Are you going to be weird and pick it up?"

Joel shrugs and leans on the rotting tank nearby. "Just want to check your aim."

"My aim is really fucking good and you know it!" Even so, she picks up a brick from her feet and palms it, eyeing the silver circle before winding her arm back and hurling the brick towards it.

She misses. Maybe three hundred miles and a trail of dead bodies ago she'd have stormed off, embarrassed and pissed. But she just makes a face at the still-swinging medal and then looks at him. "How did I miss that?"

He pushes off the tank and scoops up a glass bottle. "Sun s'probably in your eyes." Joel stands next to her and eyes the target, trying to compensate in his mind for her height. "Stand here." Ellie moves over in front of him and he hovers his arm over her. "Can I?"

She nods. Joel presses the bottle into her hand and she takes it as he maneuvers her with a hand on her elbow until she's got the trajectory he thinks will work.

"Now?" she asks. "Feels pretty fucking similar to what I was doing."

"Just trust me. Throw a little lighter than last time. And higher."

Ellie sighs, but once he steps back she does as he says and nails the medal hard enough that it drops to the ground. She whoops and turns around, hands high in the air and a wide smile on her face. Joel tries to breathe through how easily she puts her faith in him.

"Fuck yeah! Did you see that?" She holds both hands out for a high five and he obliges.

"Sure did. Nice job, kiddo."

When Ellie hands him the picture of Sarah, he pulls her in for a hug. He half expects her to shove him off but instead she allows it, twisting her hands in his shirt as he cups the back of her head.

"Thank you," Joel says quietly, thickly.

Later, when he finds her on the operating table, he presses his lips to her forehead for an extra moment before picking her up and heading for the elevator.

He messes with the order of things a little bit. Tries to make their morning last longer, tries to stay watching the giraffes for an hour or so.

Sometimes it works.

Sometimes it doesn't.

Watching Ellie drown over and over fucks with his head more than the hospital does because he can't stop it. At least while he's leaving behind corpse after corpse he knows that she's asleep upstairs, waiting for him. In the tunnel, he knows that the only way out is through, but she has to fucking drown first.

He gets sloppy.

He forgets about the runners in the side rooms when he ducks in to avoid a clicker and takes a step too close. Ellie is behind him as always and he shoves her back blindly as three runners slam him against the metal railing of the stairs before he can reach for his gun. He's too surprised to feel anything, but their breath smells like rotting meat and something worse, something that makes his eyes water.

Joel searches the room for her and finds her -- pale-faced and terrified, already reaching for her knife. He tries to say her name but it comes out as a scream when one of the runners goes for his shoulder, jagged teeth ripping through his shirt in an instant.

"Ellie -- run, Ellie -- GO --" He begs her to leave him but his voice stops working as his throat is ripped out. The last thing he sees is her horrified face as she raises her pistol.

And then he wakes up yesterday.

___

It occurs to him on day 30 -- if he's keeping track accurately -- that he's got one of the smartest people he knows at his disposal. Kid's got an encyclopedic knowledge of space as well as science fiction stories. He asks her while they're still on the highway, stalling though he can see the blue H sign from here.

"Y'ever read stuff about time?" No reply. "Ellie?" She's staring at that deer again. "Ellie."

"What?"

"You read any stories about time back in school?"

"Uh, sure," she says. She tugs her sleeves over her hands and catches up to him, eyes on the ground. "Why?"

"Saw a weird movie 'bout it once. Somethin' reminded me of it this mornin'. Guy gets stuck in a...shit, what did they call it?" Joel peeks inside an RV and smells rot so he leaves it be. "He lives the same day over and over."

"A time loop!" Ellie sounds more excited about this than anything they've talked about for days. "Those are so fucking cool. Scary, though. I feel like I'd go crazy."

Joel drags a hand down his face. "Yeah," he says. "How do you think you get outta one?"

"Well, how did the guy in the movie do it?"

"He stopped bein' an asshole," he says. Ellie laughs.

"Well, we know that's not possible for you. Guess you're fucked."

"Guess so," he mutters.

The H sign is close enough that she'll see it any minute. He wishes for the hundredth time that they could just stay out here all day, just talking. If he had a guitar he'd play for her. If he had a fucking car he'd put her in it and turn around, even though it wouldn't do any good. They'd just end up right back here because he can't fucking figure out how to get out of this.

"I think you just have to change, right?" Ellie says. She's looking at the photo of an airplane on the bus. This time she doesn't tell him about her dream. Is he losing pieces of her, already? "I guess it doesn't have to be about yourself. Maybe something you do, or something you say. It's the universe telling you to make a different choice, right?"

That's the fucking thing. The choice isn't an option. It's not even a choice.

The one thing he hasn't tried and will not try is leaving the hospital when Marlene tells him to. He'd rather die a thousand times, rather live this shit show over and over for the rest of eternity than let them cut her brain out. They will not touch her while there is still breath in his body.

He'd do it all over again. He will.

Joel tries a hundred things and they don't work.

After his conversation with Ellie he decides to really fuck with the day. Doesn't matter, right? So long as she's not put in any extra danger he considers it. He begs her to walk away, get on his knees and pleads with her throughout the day. Doesn't work. She just gets pissed at him like that first time and he doesn't push it because he can't bear to see her cry. He lengthens their morning in the clearing, fakes sick or says the rifle is jammed and needs cleaning. That goes south, too, when a pack of runners wanders through the woods and straight into them. They make it to the highway and have to miss the giraffes because they're running.

One time Joel spends all day zig-zagging them around the city to avoid the tunnel. The Fireflies find them much the same way except they shoot him on sight and grab Ellie right out of his arms as he bleeds out on the cracked asphalt, her screams echoing in his ears.

Another time, he ties them together in the tunnel with some fraying rope and they both drown.

Killing Marlene early gets him a bullet in the head and not killing her at all gets him back where he started, no change.

Joel even begs the doctor to run more tests first, to try blood, to try anything, but it takes too long and the alarm sounds and he's cornered in the operating room before he can grab Ellie and go.

Nothing fucking works.

But what is there left to change?

His mind starts to fray. He loses count of the loops and it becomes hard to detach himself from the slaughter. Not even the good moments -- Ellie's laughter, the awe in her face when she sees the giraffes, her jokes and her muted but still sharp sarcasm -- keep him afloat. He's lost, adrift in a sea of blood and bullets and it starts to eat away any humanity that was left in him.

The blood of hundreds, thousands maybe, is on his hands and he feels nothing.

Once and only once does he get there too late. Everything else goes like it always does but maybe he took too long on the first floor, maybe he took too long picking the guys one by one instead of using the assault rifle, maybe maybe maybe.

When Joel gets to the pediatric ward he knows something is different -- he can hear a buzzing sound, something loud and unnatural. The stale air is thick with something metallic, tinged with death. The buzzing stops and he finds his feet glued to the floor outside the operating room. Voices on the other side of it, murmuring and the clink of metal on a tray. Joel's hand shakes when he reaches for the knob because he knows whatever he finds on the other side is going to kill him.

But he opens it because he has to. The doctor is at the sink this time, the nurses nowhere to be found. Ellie's body is covered in a sheet, blood seeping through the fabric. Joel looks away. He just stands there, his heartbeat loud in his ears as the world ends.

The first time his daughter died, Joel thought he could will it not to be so. He held her as long as he could, whispered her name with her blood drying on his hands until Tommy begged him to get moving.

This time, he knows it's true and he knows there's only one ending.

He raises his gun at the doctor who is now leaning on the edge of the sink. The door swings open and the nurses return, eyes wide and vibrating with the energy of a job well done. He swings over to them and kills them both with quick headshots. The doctor has barely turned around when he's dead, too.

Joel breathes, ears ringing. He manages one step closer to the operating table but his knees buckle and he goes down hard on the cool tile. His vision is blurry. Is he crying?

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby." He angles himself so he won't get any blood on her and then presses the barrel of his gun to his temple and pulls the trigger.

If Joel was on the edge of losing his mind before, now he's laser focused. He doesn't pull any more shit. He settles back into the loop, savoring Ellie's laughter with the giraffe and gunning down every sorry motherfucker in his way at the hospital. He will not get there late ever again.

So when Marlene says something different the next time around and he almost misses it.

Ellie is dead weight in his arms but she's warm and he can see the rise and fall of her chest. The hospital was messier than usual because he rushed this time, cutting down the Fireflies like it was his last stand. There's blood in his hair and crusted under his fingernails and his shirt is beyond ruined.

"Are you going to tell her what happened here?" Marlene presses her hand into her side, blood leaking from around her crimson palm. "Are you going to tell her what you did?"

He lies to her.

Every time.

It's never occurred to him to try something else. Even though he's changed almost everything about this damn day except that.

Because Joel knows what happens if he tells the truth. He knows what that will cost him.

And he doesn't know if he'll survive it.

He's afraid. Joel doesn't want to lose her and if that makes him selfish then so be it. He wants to take her back to Jackson and give her a bedroom of her own and as many stupid comics as she wants and three meals a day for the rest of her long, peaceful life. He wants her to grow up and grow old.

He'd kill a thousand more Fireflies to make it happen.

He'd damn the whole world.

Because he loves her and it fucking hurts.

This girl and her puns and her comics and her god damned bravery and her bleeding heart. He doesn't want to lose her.

But is this, whatever this endless hell is, is it fair to her?

If it's breakable, if he has the ability to get them to tomorrow, to get them to Jackson, to get them home, shouldn't he? If he loves her shouldn't he give her a life even if he's not in it?

Joel gently arranges Ellie in the backseat and shoots Marlene in the head.

For a few seconds Ellie thinks she's in the car on the way into Pittsburgh. The hum of the old engine, the rocking motion of the truck. But -- wait. She's lying down. The car smells...musty. And she's cold like she's wearing a dress and --

"What the hell am I wearing?"

She flutters her eyes open. Different truck. Backseat. Is she in a...hospital gown? What the fuck? Where is she?

"Just take it easy," Joel says. Okay, so she's with Joel. Something in her chest settles. She must be safe. "Drugs are still wearin' off."

Drugs? Ellie pushes back into her memory and tries to find something, anything that'll give her a clue as to what's going on here. They were in the bus tunnel. The water was rushing, Joel jumped on the bus and it started moving and she...fell into the water?

It's a blur after that. More of a blank, really. Did they get to the hospital? Did they find the Fireflies? Based on her weird fucking outfit it sure seems like it.

"What happened?"

Joel's eyes flick up in the rearview mirror to look at her. "Let's get you into some clothes, first. Then we'll take a break and I'll tell you everythin'."

He sounds tired. More tired than he's ever sounded, frankly, but she can't imagine why. And he can't seem to stop looking at her like she's going to disappear. Like he hasn't seen her in ages.

"Okay," she says slowly. "Where the hell are we going to get those?"

"Your bag is on the floor by your feet." Joel veers off the highway down an exit ramp and Ellie sits up. Her head feels light for a second and then really heavy so she braces her hands on the seat in front of her and takes a few deep breaths. "You okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah. Fucking...drugs, I guess. What'd they do that for?"

"They ran some tests. We'll talk about it."

Normally she'd push him but something feels off. Ellie tries to get a good look at his face but she can't, not from this angle, and not with her head fucking pounding like it is. She's missing so much time. It makes her skin crawl, makes her heart race. Joel is here, she tells herself. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

He parks them at the edge of a cemetery and gets out of the car to stand guard while she changes out of the gown. Her last pair of jeans, apparently, and a grey t-shirt with a few holes in the collar. She wishes she had a sweatshirt or something to wrap around herself, to pull over her hands and feel covered. But beggars can't be choosers. At least someone put her shoes in her backpack.

Joel doesn't turn around when she opens the door but she sees him stiffen.

"I'm done." He looks back at her and she finally sees his face. "Jesus Christ, Joel, what happened to you?"

It's not just the blood. Sure, he's got dried streaks of it on his neck and in his hair. Ellie glances at his hands and sees it crusted under his fingernails, too. But he looks wrecked. Older, somehow. He looks like something terrible happened, the way she remembers his face when he fell from the balcony in Colorado, when he found her in the burning restaurant. But somehow it's worse.

He's looking at her like he can't believe she's real.

"Alright." Joel lowers the rifle and ignores her question, clearly. "Didn't see anythin'. Should be fine to sit here for a bit."

"Are you going to tell me what the fuck happened?"

He moves like he's going to drag a hand down his face but thinks better of it. "Yeah," he says. "I am."

Ellie swings her legs so they're hanging out the door. Joel leans the rifle against the truck and crosses his arms. "You're making me kind of nervous, man."

"Just...promise me you'll hear me out to the end."

Yeah, something is going on. She doesn't like it.

"Uh, sure."

"What do you remember?"

Good fucking question. "The tunnel. The bus and -- water. I fell in, right?"

Joel nods, clears his throat. "Jumpin' on the bus was dumb. Don't do that again."

She snorts. "Yeah, okay. Point taken. But I was afraid you were going to drown!"

"You did." He delivers the news in a flat tone she doesn't like. She drowned?

"Are you serious?"

"I got us out of the water and tried to get you breathin' again." Ellie realizes her chest is sore. She imagines Joel doing compressions like they showered her in school, imagines his panicked face, his hoarse voice calling her name. Fuck.

"Did it work?"

"No," he says. "Fireflies found us first and knocked me out."

"That doesn't make sense." She frowns. "They knocked you out?"

Joel shrugs. "Just tellin' you what happened."

This isn't how she imagined it would go. She never told Joel, but for weeks she's been thinking about waltzing up to the hospital and telling them who she is. She pictured Joel telling her jokes while she got her blood drawn, pictured him staring down nurses and doctors while they made the cure. She figured it would take a few days, maybe a week, and then they'd be on their way back to Jackson. She had hoped Marlene might be there, too. She has so many questions about her mom.

"What did they do with me?"

Joel looks troubled. "I...don't exactly know. It was a while before I saw you again."

It makes her skin crawl. He must be able to tell because he keeps talking. "I'm sure they just ran some tests while you were out. They brought you back, made sure you were breathin' okay."

"Tests?"

"I'm gettin' there." She feels like he's having a hard time looking at her. Something close to but not quiet dread sits heavy in her stomach. What happened?

"Joel..."

"I woke up inside the hospital. Marlene was there. Told me they didn't know it was us, that they'd been waiting." He pauses, drags a hand down his face. "You didn't wake up or nothin'? You sure?"

Ellie shakes her head. She doesn't remember anything after the tunnel.

"Well, she told me they could do it. They had a doctor who could make the cure."

The air rushes out of Ellie all at once. "Are you fucking serious?"

"And then she said..." Joel chews on his words and looks away from her. He looks angry.

"What did she say?"

"Makin' a vaccine...would've killed you."

The bottom drops out of Ellie's world. It's like a hundred doors in her brain open at once.

It would have killed her? Are they sure? Did they do enough tests? Were they going to? Why didn't they wake her up? Were they going to ask her? How did they get out?

She swallows them all and manages just one in a broken whisper. "What did you do?"

Joel looks right at her. "I stopped them."

If Ellie wasn’t already sitting down she thinks her legs would give out. She knows that Joel meant what he said to her in Silver Lake. Knows that he'd do anything for her.

But this?

"What do you mean?" He shakes his head. "Joel. What do you mean, you stopped them?"

His shoulders slump. "They told me to leave and I refused. And I made sure no one can follow us to try again."

Static builds in her ears. She can read between the lines. She speaks Joel now. He killed them all, that much is clear to her. He killed them all, Marlene, too, probably, because she was supposed to die to save the world. Hot tears sting her nose and gather at the corner of her eyes.

"But I -- but we -- I was supposed to...I'm the cure!"

"You're a person. You're a kid. Don't matter what's in your brain, you ain't dyin' for --"

Ellie pushes out of the truck and to her feet. Joel steps back to give her room but she knows he probably wants to touch her, to reassure her. The anger fills her, makes her face hot and her heart race.

"Who said you get to make that choice? If they said I had to die maybe I should have? Then it would mean something --"

"Your immunity ain't the thing that matters most. You are. So I picked you," Joel yells.

She's really crying now, huge heaving sobs that make it hard to talk, make it hard to convey how angry she is. "Well, you picked wrong, asshole."

"I ain't gonna apologize for it. I'd do it all over again, the exact same way. Every time." Joel's expression is as serious as it gets. He used to look this way all the time. No nonsense, no room for argument.

She tries to find the words anyway but they don't come.

"Now, you've got some options here," he says. "I think the best one is for us to go back to Jackson. I know Tommy'll take you in, and --

She laughs, or tries to.

It sounds like something bitter and awful to her own ears. First he tells her she was supposed to die today and now he wants to leave her?

"Are you fucking serious, Joel? You want to leave me again?"

Joel's brows pinch together. He looks pained. Good. It feels like her chest is caving in, like her lungs aren't working right anymore. This must be what it felt like to drown in the bus terminal, to sink slowly, to fade away entirely. She read once that drowning was supposed to be peaceful. This hurts.

"I want you to be safe," he says. "Jackson is the best place for that. I don't have to be there if you don't want me there --"

"I didn't fucking say that!" she yells. "I -- Jesus, give me a fucking second, okay?"

He stands by the door as she paces back and forth, tugging her hands through her hair.

She was supposed to die. But she didn't. There's no cure. And it sure fucking sounds like Joel didn't leave any option to try again.

He traded saving the world for her.

It's too much.

"What do you want, Ellie?" Joel sounds like he's been awake for days. Like he's in pain, like he's being hollowed out. He sounds like how she feels.

She digs the heels of her hands into her eyes.

"I want none of this to have happened! I want us to go back to this morning and I want us to not have gone into the bus tunnel and I want you to have asked for tests first, I want them to try something else. I want Marlene to tell me why they didn't wake me up. I want to do it again but differently, I want things to be different, I --"

Her words break off into a sob. "Ellie..." She opens her eyes and finds him reaching for her. His shirt is stained with dried blood but she steps into his hold and his arm wraps around her.

"I don't know what to do, now," she whispers.

Joel exhales a shaky breath. "I know you wish things were different. I wish things were different. But they ain't."

They stand there, his hand dragging up and down her back. She listens to his heartbeat and remembers those nights in the basement when she thought it would stop any minute.

"Fuck," she whispers, then pulls away. He lets her go. "Fuck, Joel."

He sighs. "Yeah, kiddo. Fuck."

He told her the truth and that means something. It hurts, it hurts so bad, and it doesn't absolve him of anything, but that matters.

"I'm so angry with you," she says. "I don't know how to forgive you for...for...saving me."

It sounds stupid as she says it but Joel nods solemnly.

"That's alright."

"But I..." She wants to get this part right. "Let's go back. To Jackson. We'll figure it out there. But you...you have to swear to tell me the truth. Just like this. We have to be honest with each other."

Joel meets her gaze without blinking. "I swear."

Ellie takes a deep breath. The anger, the horror, the disbelief at what he's done settle a little bit. She has no clue what comes next, but this is a start.

"Okay."

Joel wakes up.

His back hurts and his shoulder aches. It's dark, darker than it should be, darker than it's been for hundreds of days.

Ellie is asleep in the backseat of the truck.

It's tomorrow.

thank you for reading. let me know what you thought!

#the last of us fanfiction #i dont know how to tag this #the last of us #bea this is your fault!

173 notes · View notes

onpurposeilovehimonpurpose · 3 months

Text

An Incomplete List: Eleven

This moment is actually my favorite scene of Nick's acting that we see in the film. It perfectly illustrates #11. Can you imagine how scary it must've been for Henry to go out in public after he was outed? And he was there in that car alone, he didn't even have Shaan in the car with him. (Shaan was waiting for him, so maybe that helped, but that drive had to have been agony.) He wasn't able to have any contact with the outside world other than this cruel moment where he had to face the reporters waiting on him. There was no back entrance the car could go to? Or maybe the driver wasn't told to go in any other way? It feels like this was a punishment, forcing Henry to face the cameras and shouting reporters. (Just like how they tried to hide his support from the people at Buckingham.) Whoever made those decisions didn't care how it made Henry feel. He had no support from anyone here and broke down, as anyone would. But here's the thing that's so damn amazing about Henry. He keeps going. He doesn't give in entirely to the sadness, to the terror and anxiety that had to have been threatening to consume him. He is so incredibly strong here. He's been trained to deal with the public who behave like they have a right to accost him, trained to fear what they may say about him, so he learned to behave in a way that meant there was nothing but good things for them to write about him (mostly). Still, no amount of training could have ever prepared him for being cut off from the man he loves, from all means of support (other than Bea and Shaan, who are also wrapped up in the Crown and struggling), from his best friend, and simultaneously dealing with the knowledge that everything he wrote to Alex, and Alex to him, and the V&A footage, that was out there for everyone to read or see. The way he must've felt so flayed open, so incredibly invaded to his core. But he still keeps going. He keeps trying. He takes a deep breath, let's it out, and even if he forces himself to wear a mask to get through the hell he's about to deal with, he never stops trying.

I truly love Henry Fox and all of his layers. He is one of the most amazing characters that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and loving in such a way that he feels real. When it comes to these stunningly intense moments, sometimes I feel like even I know too much about him, that I'm a witness to things he has never given me permission to see. That's how real Henry feels to me sometimes, and this moment here in the film, where we see him shatter, then pick himself up moments later and keep trying, keep living, even with seemingly no light at the end of the tunnel, it's why I think out of all the amazing moments in the book and movie, this one resonates with me above all others and has since the first day I watched it.

#An Incomplete List #RWRB #RWRB Movie #Red White and Royal Blue #RWRB Book #RW&RB FirstPrince #Alex X Henry #Alex Claremont-Diaz #Alexander Claremont-Diaz #Henry Fox #HRH Prince Henry #HRH Prince Henry George Edward James Hanover-Stuart Fox #Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor #Nicholas Galitzine #Taylor Zakhar Perez #HRH Prince Henry of Wales

80 notes · View notes

willowedhepatica · 8 months

Text

"Do you love her?" Camila asks and it makes Beatrice grip the mug tighter. She works her jaw, staring into the leafy tea water that had already run cold. She would drink it anyway.

"I've only known her for six months."

"She's very charming."

"She is." Damn it, she is. "Even Lilith has gone soft. She let Ava go on a long monologue about whales and their mating cycle yesterday, it was quite amusing to watch."

"Beatrice."

Beatrice straightens automatically, her eyes shifting forward.

Camila's eyes are soft when they finally land on her. "It's okay."

"What?"

"To love her."

"I don't–"

"Oh, but you do."

Beatrice frowns. She doesn't know if it is because it scares her or irritates her. "How can you be so certain?"

Camila laughs, light and knowing like she just asked something ridiculous. Beatrice turns away. It was a serious question.

"You know a couple of days ago when we were at that party?"

Beatrice nods.

"Ava dragged you out on the dancefloor with all those people and loud music and sticky floors and you had only eyes for her. Even when someone bumped into you it didn't seem like you cared."

It had been a great night. She could remember how much Ava was laughing, her smile growing even bigger when Beatrice accepted her request to dance. She couldn't say no to that.

"She's very persuasive..."

Camila nods. "She is."

"I didn't want to disappoint her."

"You know you wouldn't do that. Even if you said no."

Beatrice humms. "What's your point?"

Camila takes a sip from her drink, sets it down. "You let Ava take you out of your comfort zone. I've never seen you smile more than these last few months and..." she gestures forward, "you're kind of glowing, even for how clishé that might sound, it's true. You can't deny it."

"I–" Beatrice clamps her mouth shut, leans back in the chair. "It isn't like that, it's... I don't know if that's true..."

"Why?"

"She makes me ache." She mumbles, almost without thought before she whips her head up as the panic wash over her. "It's not, I don't–"

"Bea, it's okay." Camila reaches forward and places a hand on hers but Beatrice draws away. She smiles anyway, a little sad this time. "Tell me. Tell me how she makes you feel."

It's a lot. Too much almost. Beatrice clench her hands into fists before unclenching them again. Takes a deep shuddering breath before speaking. "It hurts." Her lips twitch down, she shakes her head. "She makes me feel full." Of what? Everything, too much, not enough. Beatrice absent mindedly strokes her hand over her chest, puts pressure. "It feels like I'm going to burst. And yet..."

"And yet?"

"It feels like I could bear the pain. Over and over, every second I'm with her I could bear it. Every second I'm with her, it hurts less."

"That sounds an awful lot like love." Camila says. "Are you scared?"

"She makes me feel brave."

#wn fic #warrior nun #avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #my writing

198 notes · View notes

sinsandsuccubus · 11 months

Text

Pregnancy Cravings - Meet The Harlow’s

Context: Peanut butter chicken?

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 700+

Warnings: n/a

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

☽ ☾

You hated being pregnant.

Hated it.

You felt like a blimp, considering your size and how far along you were. You were roughly between six to seven months, and at this point, you really wished that the little thing would just come on out.

Maybe a premature baby was okay.

Not only did the pregnancy come with a size change, but a clothing change. No longer were you able to fit into the crop tops and items you usually wore around your shared home with Jack. As much as you wanted to wear your old clothing, Jack made it a good point that by wearing them, you’d stretch out the material, which would ultimately ruin your wardrobe once returning back to your “normal” size.

At least you hoped that’s what would happen.

Pregnancy weight was not a good look on you, in your personal opinion, although Jack found you hella attractive.

“Mamas, you look good, I swear. As a matter of fact, I take that back, you look sexy. Do I have to dick you down to prove it?”

Needless to say, Jack kept his word.

Another thing about your pregnancy that made you raise a question was your cravings.

Sure, you had heard the many stories about the different combinations, peanut butter and pickles, boiled eggs with horseradish, but peanut butter chicken?

Peanut butter chicken. The same food combination you shamed Jack for when you both started dating and he was comfortable around you.

“Come on babe, don’t knock it til you try it, it’s really good.”

“Jack, that’s utterly disgusting. I could never eat that.”

Oh, how the turn tables.

You and Jack were currently laying in bed, your head laying on his chest while he drew patterns over your pregnant belly.

“What do you want to eat mamas? It’s almost lunchtime.”

“I don’t know baby. Nothing sounds good right now.”

“Chick Fil A?”

“Nope.”

“McDonald's?”

“Not that either.”

“Popeyes?”

“Hell no.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday. You were fuckin up those chicken wings and that dry ass biscuit.”

“Your dick’s gonna be dry if you don’t shut up.” You looked up at your husband whose eyes went wide, making a motion to zipper his mouth shut and throw away the key.

“You know… I actually have a craving for something really weird.” You looked up at Jack again, who’s mouth still mocked being zippered shut.

“Ohmygod, Jack, you can speak.” You smacked his arm, laughing as he gasped for air.

“Phew, I was running out of air.”

“Yeah, you mouth breather.”

“You love me though.” He spoke, kissing you on the forehead.

“I’ll love you even more if you make me peanut butter chicken with veggies please.” You spoke, smiling up at your husband.

“I remember there was a time you thought that was gross. Going as far as to say “That’s utterly disgusting. I could never eat that.”.”

“Yeah yeah, well, now I’m pregnant out the ass. And this pregnant momma wants her peanut butter chicken with veggies.” You gave him a stern look, to which he immediately hopped up from bed and saluted you.

“Yes ma’am.” You laughed as he disappeared out of the room, shaking your head at your goofy husband. You hoped your child would take after him, especially his personality. Just not his big head.

☽ ☾

To say you were hungry was an understatement. As soon as you sat down at the table, you dug into your food, moaning at the satisfaction from your tastebuds. Jack looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t you say a damn word.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, you used to shame me about my peanut butter chicken, and now you’re moaning like I just blew your back-“ The words silenced from his mouth as a fork whirled past his head, his eyes turning around to eye the utensil that clattered on the floor.

“What the fuck was that?!”

“It got you to shut up, didn’t it? Now, please get me another one so I can finish this delicious meal my beautiful husband cooked for me, whose dick I’ll be sucking later.” You spoke firmly, staring directly into Jack’s eyes.

He got up immediately, moving to pick up the fork from the floor and place it in the sink, grabbing a clean utensil from the drawer.

“If I had known that my peanut butter chicken would take you this far, I would have made it a long time ago for you.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t get your hopes up. I’ll probably hate it after giving birth.”

“Dang it.”

#jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow fic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow scenario #jack harlow fanfiction #meet the harlows

227 notes · View notes

overstuffednpadded · 4 months

Text

Olivia was sat in the pool, surrounded by her friends and acquaintances from uni in the late hours of her 21st birthday party. It'd been an incredible night so far; people were drinking, dancing, the food was amazing, and Olivia was enjoying herself in more ways than one. She wasn't exactly sitting in the pool itself, more like straddling another person in the pool. The other girl would feed Olivia and then kiss her after every bite.

"Open wide Livie." Bea, Olivia's girlfriend, popped a strawberry into Olivia's mouth before biting the other half so their lips could meet.

Olivia felt amazing in the moment. This would be a birthday she'd remember forever.

bBBbblLlllL

The two girls froze mid-makeout. The worst part was the Bea's hand had slid down to Olivia's ass right at that moment, so she felt every air bubble that had escaped Liv's rear end. Olivia felt her face grow hot. She was mentally preparing an plausible lie that would explain why she didnt just fart on her girlfriend, but Bea's giggling was the first to break the silence.

"Damn Livie, I didnt know you were so comfortable with me." Bea continued to laugh as she tucked a wet strand of curly hard behind Olivia's ear. Olivia's face twisted into an expression that could only be described as a bashful cringe before covering her face with her hands and burying herself into her girlfriend's chest, causing Bea to go from giggling to full on laughter.

Olivia insisted they get out of the pool, and Bea agreed after a few more minutes of teasing.

"This way it'll be harder to tell if you fa-" Olivia punched Bea in the arm.

They joined their group of friends next to the music and spent the better part of the hour dancing and playing drinking games. It was getting close to midnight, which was when they were planning to bring out the cake. This was when everyone was going to sing happy birthday and Olivia would be the center of attention. She'd been excited for it since the day she planned it six months ago. She loved the spotlight, it's why she planned these big elaborate birthday parties! But right now, something was terribly wrong, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole.

Olivia had hoped that that embarrassing moment in the pool would be the worst of it. She had to admit that she was a little nervous about the party, and she'd been stress eating for the past few days. She'd eat until she finally realized that her stomach was stuffed to the brim, then she'd regret everything later on when she had to squeeze a fat load into the toilet. Today had been the worst of it; she'd practically cleaned out the fridge, and would've eaten the catering too if her friends hadn't stopped her. But they'd been so busy with everything that she when she realized she hadnt gone yet the party had already started. No big deal though right? She lived here, she knew where the bathroom was. But every attempt to relieve herself had been halted. The line had been too long on the first floor, and several people had been sick in the second floor bathroom. Olivia figured that she could hold it, but that had been 4 hours ago. Her stomach feel like a painful boulder she had to carry around. It's why she'd led Bea to the pool in the first place, the water felt soothing to her tummy, she just didn't realize how much.

Now something had been breached. She tried to act normal, but her stomach felt like a war zone. The weight of so many helpings of meat and cheese and any snack she had been able to find was now punching and kicking at her insides. She felt pregnant and ready to pop, but there was no where to give birth to this thing unless she did it in a bush. And she would NOT be humiliated at her own birthday party!

Olivia was starting to feel sick, enough so that she feared her friends would notice. So she went back to her original plan of simply trying to soothe her tummy. Once the party was over and everyone was gone, she could beeline right for the nearest bathroom or sink or bucket and let loose. She just had to wait a couple more hours.

She told everyone that she was gonna go chill in the hot tub for a bit, emphasizing how she wanted to enjoy some alone time before her big moment. She was glad no one pushed to go with her and made her way over.

The hot tub was completely vacant. This was post covid, no one wanted to share a pool of hot bubbling water in close proximity to a bunch of strangers. Olivia eased herself in and immediately felt her stomach settle. She let out a long sigh and allowed herself to openly rub her aching stomach. She didnt realized how bloated she was until she felt the taut bulge protruding out her midsection. It was clear this load was gonna be big, but for now it would have to wait until later.

BBbBOorrbbLll

Olivia sat stiff as she watched and extra set of bubbles rise to the surface. For a moment her face went red, but then she remembered that she was alone. Everyone was far enough away that even if the music wasnt on no one would really notice what she was doing unless they looked closely at her. She relaxed again, sinking further under the water, and relaxed her body enough to let out another fart, this one deeper and more intense than the last. Her eyelids lowered, a relieved expression forming on her face. She felt her stomach gurgle with satisfaction as more gas bubbles burst from her swimsuit. She felt herself give a little push to ease more of it out, feeling more relieved than she had all night.

BRBBLRRT

Olivia gasp as if she'd been drowning and now was desperate for air. Something hard and wide was pressing out of her and against the back of her swimsuit, and it was eager to fully emerge. Olivia tried not to panic, but internally she wanted to scream and cry. This could not be happening, and she hated how badly her body needed it too. Her body wanted so badly to push keep pushing, tried to convince her to let it come out. But she reminded herself that she was in a HOT TUB! She was at her birthday party and she was not about to shit anywhere but on a toilet!

She fought back and started to suck it back in, her asshole gaping around the protrusion sticking out of it. She strained as hard as she could without alerting anyone, draping her arms over the side like she was relaxing when really she was gripping the edge of the tub for support. It hurt to try and pull the turd back in, but she bore down hard. But there was no room in her stomach for it, her body showed her how fruitless her effort was.

As soon as she stopped straining, the log took the chance to slide out. Not a little, not halfway, but fully and completely into her swimsuit. It happened so quickly, but she felt every bulge it made as it happening, feeling it curl up against her butt. She let out an involuntary groan when it fully came out, small bubbles rising up from her bottom when a muffled fart was pushed out against the huge load. The bulge in her swimsuit was so wide, even in the rippling water she could see it poking out between her legs. She felt grateful it was all solid, but it didnt change the fact that she had still shit herself. She could feel a sob rising up from her throat, but she barely had time for a single tear when a friend appeared by her side. She nearly jumped out of her skin and just barely avoided squishy the poopy bulge in her butt in the process.

"Oh sorry Liv! Wasnt trying to scare you. But it's almost time for cake! Come on, we gotta sing happy birthday to the birthday girl." They playfully pinched her cheek before walking off, thankfully unaware of Olivia's predicament.

Now she was panicking. She had to do something, there was now way she was going to stand in front of everyone with a bathing suit full of shit. But she couldnt go up there naked! And the worst part about the whole thing was that she still needed to go. The log sitting in her bikini bottom was the first of many, she could feel her stomach churning with another big poop. Possibly some less solid ones too.

As if to pour salt on the wound, Olivia felt her bladder let go. If the pool wasnt already hot, she would feel a warmth spreading around her waist. The only reason she knew she was peeing was because the momentary increase of warmth on her thighs paired with the feeling of emptying her bladder. She sat there in the water for a moment, frozen like a peeing deer with poop in its pants. She didnt have much time, so she did the only thing she could think of at that moment and reached down to open her bottoms. Apparently her mess wasnt as solid as she'd originally thought, and she had to wiggle her hips to get her poop to budge. She hopped out as it rose to water level and quickly wiped herself with a towel before rushing off towards the waiting crowd.

Olivia was greeted by cheers and birthday wishes as she approached, and she tried to ignore the cramping pressure in her bottom as she smiled and thanked everyone. She stood before the crowd of her girlfriend, best friends and peers as they begun to sing.

"Happy Birthday to you~"

Olivia could barely hear any of them over a different sort of chorus going on in her stomach. She tried not to grit her teeth as her insides turned to knots.

"Happy Birthday to you~"

Olivia was glad she was face towards the crowd and that their singing was loud, because she suddenly felt a fart slip out and leave something wet and muddy in her bottoms. It started and wouldnt stop no matter how much she clenched, and she tried not shake as gas rippled out of her.

"Happy Birthday dear Olivia!~"

She had to hold it! She had to! But she could feel her bottom loosening up.

"Happy Birthday to-!"

BLOOOP BLLORRTTTCH

The sound of mud and muck filling her bottoms cut through the song. A tidal wave of chunky liquid poop exploded out of her ass at it's weakest moment.

BBLLRRTCHBBLLRTT

There was so much poop, she felt it burst out and spill onto the ground, even running up her back. Her body was so overcome with the desperate need to unload that for an unfortunate moment she forgot she wasnt on a toilet. She could feel something more solid coming from her stomach and so, in front of everyone, she began to push.

"UHH UUUGGHHHNN!"

She grunted like a cave man and wrapped her arms around her stomach as large soft logs of waste began to squeeze out of her like toothpaste. It oozed out and landed with a solid wet thud onto the ground.

The crowd watched on, some stunned, some horrified, some disgusted and gagging. But one thing they all had in common was that they'd remember this forever. Especially Olivia.

#💜writing💜#messing #scat kink #eproctophilia #omo

147 notes · View notes

simplyavatrice · 7 months

Text

I feel your compliments like bullets on skin - chapter eight

Ava isn’t exactly an MI6 agent, but if you ask her, she’s pretty damn good at making other people believe the bullshit that comes out of her mouth.

So when she goes full celebrity tantrum and tells Chanel to buy her not one, but two first class tickets on her flight because she doesn’t want to deal with anyone, she gets her way.

Chanel usually understands Ava’s needs and respects them. She knows Ava values privacy and when she is actually going away on vacation, she likes to isolate and live a little luxurious. So getting the seat next to her on a long flight open isn’t the strangest request in the world.

She does have to apologize to Dora, and promise her that she won’t forever be the conduit between Ava and Beatrice and the rest of the world, but Dora goes out of her way to drive by Bea’s place and drop off her ticket.

They don’t meet up at the airport and when Beatrice gets on the plane, they act like they’ve just met. No kisses, no hand holding or hugs - just little smiles and knowing looks.

On the flight, they chat like normal and watch a couple of movies together. Halfway through the second one, Beatrice falls asleep.

Ava can't really begin to describe how excited she is to be here, on this flight and headed so far away from California and all the hustle and craziness. She hasn’t spoken to Vincent in three days, Chanel has promised not to contact her until next Friday and though she has an obnoxious as fuck trip to Brazil coming up, she’s entirely focused on this week.

Never could she have imagined finding someone like Bea. She is the exact opposite of everyone Ava has ever had even a second date with. She’s so unaware of Ava’s world. The movies Bea likes are documentaries and older, foreign films.

Ava doesn't mind those, in fact she loves the documentaries and has told Bea about her history with them growing up. They were her lifeblood - her view of the outside world.

Ava spent years and years learning about animals and history, about the way things were made and where things were so she could piece together her own map of the world. It wasn't perfect, but when she was finally able to step out into it, she took the time to enjoy as much of it as possible.

It’s that, she thinks, that makes her career worth it. She gets to see so many beautiful places, whether it be for work or promotion or even now, having the money to fly out to the beach and escape.

They exit the plane together, and Ava is wearing a hat, a mask and a pair of sunglasses to keep herself hidden away.

There’s no personal security here yet, she’s hired out from a local firm for the weekend but they’ll meet them at the hotel. Which means that she’s vulnerable, even with her hair tied up and all her cover on, people seem to recognize her.

Still, she can feel the way Beatrice’s demeanor shifts as they’re making their way through the airport together. Scanning the crowd constantly, seemingly aware of every noise and movement.

When a child runs by, screaming about something he’s found, Beatrice’s hand instinctively whips out and presses against her.

“It’s okay,” Ava says, her voice soft because the action leaves her a little breathless.

CONT ON AO3

#avatrice #warrior nun #avatrice fanfiction #warrior nun fanfiction #because i REFUSE to let assholes ruin this ship for me #absolutely fucking refuse #so we press on

124 notes · View notes

handittothefandom · 6 months

Text

Red, White and Royal Blue Headcannons

- Alex falls asleep with his glasses on, Henry takes them off

- LIGHTSABER BATTLES

- Alex knows EXACTLY how many moles Henry has

- Henry asks June if proposing on New Year’s is cliche

- The both have their pronouns in social media bios

- The first time Alex actually spoke spanish in front of Henry he had to sit down

- David spends a lot of nights laying in Alex’s knees and Henry isn’t sure if his dog stoled his boyfriend or if his boyfriend stoled his dog

- “I love you” “That’s gay” “Alex I am quite literally gay”

- Henry is always playing with Alex’s hair and Alex is always playing with Henry’s hands

- The next time they go to the lake Alex jokes about how Henry better not run away this time

- Alex is always stressed and tries to play off his panic attacks by joking, Henry holds his hands in his and sits with him until he breathes

- Ellen refers to Henry as her favorite son

- They smash so much cake in each others faces at their wedding

- Alex has a tattoo only Henry has seen

- Alex wears makeup for their first pride, seeing him and those damn eyelashes with mascara leave Henry unable to talk when he looks at him for the whole day

- You bet your ass Henry always buys Alex yellow roses on their anniversary

- Bea tells Alex that their dad would have really loved him

- Henry ends up so obsessed with Alex because he’s the first person who didn’t pretend to love him for someone he wasn’t

- Henry has a super specific skin care routine, and even wears a headband while he does it, Alex washes his face with bar soap and it makes Henry so mad “You really don’t do anything and look that good”

- When they’re together Alex rubs Henry’s back till he falls asleep, when they’re apart they having matching teddy bears they sleep with and Alex calls and reads to Henry on really bad night

- “you might be the prince of whales but you are the king of my heart”

- One night Alex is putting their kids to sleep and Henry over hears him telling their love story as a bed time story, “Sometimes you’re wrong and that’s okay because when I admitted I was wrong it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me”

- Alex is obsessed with matching Halloween costumes

- Henry definitely calls him princess

- Henry dedicates his first book to Alex

- Alex is very ticklish to Henry’s advantages

this list is only gonna get longer but here

Also if you like any of these and want to write a whole fic please do, send me a link when you’re done

#firstprince #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry fox #headcanon #alex claremont-diaz

121 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 1 year

Text

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ: Part 13

“I can’t breathe”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: I couldn’t pick just one gif for this chapter 🫠 sorry, not sorry. Also, I support Joel Millers rights, and his wrongs.

Summary: 20 years have passed since out-break day. Joel hasn’t heard from his younger brother Tommy in 3 weeks. He’s terrified of the thought of losing the last member of his family. You’re afraid that you’re losing him entirely.

~word count: 5.8k~

Warnings: implied age gap, established relationship, so much fucking angst I’m so sorry. Swearing, mean! joel, protective! joel, dark! joel, possessive, joel!, violent actions have violent consequences! joel, fluff (if you squint and use a damn magnifying glass) gaslighting, arguing, brief mentions of death, graphic violence with a knife, feelings, emotions, anger, rage, (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“i can’t breathe” by Bea Miller

“Poison & Wine” by The Civil Wars

“exile” by T-Swift & Bon Iver

“As It Was” by Hozier

“Rage” by Samantha Margret

“I’m a Mess” by Ed Sheeran

“Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” by Tame Impala

“How to disappear” by Lana Del Ray

“Arms Of A Stranger” by Niall Horan

“Till Forever Falls Apart” by Ashe, FINNEAS

Year 2023. 20 years after out-break day : Boston QZ

Joel Miller always struggled dealing with loss of any kind. It started with losing Sarah. The grief, anger, anguish he felt in the last moments he had with her while she faded in his arms. He didn’t want to go on after that. What the fuck was the point when the world had fucking ripped his baby girl from his arms. He struggled with the possibility of losing you. Seeing you nearly bleed out on the kitchen table, his hands stained with your blood. It was too fucking much. If you would have died that night, surely he would meet his end shortly after. He knew the feeling all too well.

For the past two years, shit had been pretty sweet. Almost, too sweet. You refused to let yourself get caught up in the possibility of things going south with Joel. You wanted to live in every fucking moment you had with him. Carefree, happy, in love. You knew deep down that this wouldn’t last. You would have been naive if you believed nothing would ever come between you and Joel. The fucked up world you lived in, and the horrors that existed within, would always be there. Haunting you.

You trusted Joel with your life. He had given no reason for you to not put your full devotion into him. In more ways than one, you had saved each other. That trust mattered so fucking much to you. You were loyal to a fault. It was your fatal flaw.

Joel had been contacting his brother frequently. Tommy was the last of Joel’s blood and he would be damned if he would end up losing him too. Joel didn’t like when he felt like he had no control over a situation. It drove him up a fucking wall, devoured him skin and flesh till only his brittle bones were left. The fear of losing those he loved deeply, was constantly on his mind.

Joel had not heard from Tommy in three weeks. Three fucking weeks. He went and checked with the radio guy everyday. It was the same response of “we’re talking to the tower everyday. Nothing from Tommy.” This was not good enough for Joel. He needed to know that his younger brother was safe, that he was alive and well. Why the fuck wasn’t he responding? His mind instantly went to the worst possible outcome; Tommy being dead. It’s all he could think about.

Today with him he brought freshly rolled cigarettes, carefully tucked away in his coat pocket. He wanted answers, and he intended to get them, one way or another. He wasted no time to cut the line of other QZ residents waiting to send their message out. He didn’t care. He found himself with his elbow leaning over a rusted metal shelf. His patience was growing thin as he stood there, looming. He had a habit of playing with his fingers, picking at the dry skin around his cuticles, till they would crack and bleed. You had taken notice that he was doing this frequently now.

When it was finally his turn, he wasted no time to walk over. Plopping down into the chair with a thud as he reached into his jacket pocket and slid over the rolled cigarettes, his elbow resting along the worn wood.

“Nothin? Is there any chance it’s comin’in at night? You’re sleepin, you miss it?” Joel asked.

“When I’m sleeping, Gabriela listens, or my son.” The man spoke as he lit the cigarette, tossing the lighter to the side as he took a short inhale. The tip of the cigarette burning bright orange. “If Tommy responded, we’d know.”

Joel didn’t like the answers he was receiving. Not one fuckin bit. There had to be more information, there just had to be.

“And you’re talkin’ to the tower?”

“Every day, Joel.”

Bullshit is what he thought.

“They gave him your message, they haven’t seen or heard from him since, and that’s it.”

Lies.

“It’s been three fuckin weeks. It’s never taken Tommy more than a day to respond. Do you get that? Cause i’m startin’ to think that you ain’t seein’ the problem here.”

The man sighed, leaning forward as he held the cigarette off to the side, the smoke billowing upwards. “Joel, I'm sure Tommy is alright.”

“Show me where the tower is.”

“Joel, you can’t be serious. The tower is in Wyoming. You’re a capable guy, but there are worse things than infected out there.”

“You think I don’t fuckin realize that?” He scoffed. Crossing his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching tightly as he ground his teeth together.

“There are raiders, there’s slavers…” He trailed off.

“But you’re “sure” Tommy’s okay? Joel asked, his brow raised.

“It’s, uh, it’s the Cody tower…Q-bar 4, but I don’t know exactly–”

Joel was already up from his chair and leaving. He got the information he needed, now to devise a plan, leave the QZ, and find Tommy.

___________

Joel had no plan. No fuckin clue how he was going to get to Wyoming, but he would be damned if he didnt try. He was well aware that he wasn’t spending a lot of time with you these days. You both were working shit FEDRA jobs. Different hours, and by the time either of you would make it home, you both were too exhausted to speak.

You had known for the past few weeks that something was up with Joel. You didn’t want to pry, or make him feel like he had to tell you what was bothering him. You wanted him to come to you, tell you himself exactly what was going on. You couldn’t deny the fact that not knowing what was going on, was hurting you. It felt like he was purposely pushing you away. You didn't want to assume the worst of your lover, but it was hard not to when he was stumbling in hours past curfew, piss drunk. He would sleep with his back facing you. You wondered if this was exactly the way Tess had felt when she realized she was losing him.

You were barely sleeping most nights. Always waiting up for him, waiting for his return. You’d pretend to be asleep when the bed would dip down from his weight on it. You’d secretly pray that he’d wrap you up in his warm, strong arms finally. The moment never came and you felt so cold, so empty. You bottled it up, allowing it to devour you from the inside out.

One particular night, Joel had come stumbling in, a bottle of half drank whiskey in his grasp. He was high off something. Whatever pills he could get on. Pills that he had smuggled in for ration cards. He didn’t give a damn about his next meal. He just wanted to numb his feelings. Bury them so fuckin deep, that you, his sunlight, would never be able to reach them.

You could hear the sound of his keys clanking on the kitchen table. The front door locking shut. Then, his footsteps. His boots were heavy on the creaky floorboards. You heard his approach just outside the bedroom door, could hear his mumbling as he pushed it open, revealing your curled up form under the covers. The moonlight from the window casting a soft glow against your face. You looked beautiful, you always did.

You could hear his staggered, heavy steps. The bed dipped down beside you as he slowly sank down, the bottle of whiskey held between his knees as he leaned over and whispered, “you awake?”

You let out a sigh as you rolled over so you were facing him. Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you watched him bring the rim of the bottle to his lips, taking a long swig. “Am now.”

He was reaching for you immediately, tugging the covers that enclosed you from him.

“I need you baby, my sweet girl. Please, please, please.”

“Need to feel you.”

“Need to feel your skin on mine.”

“Please.”

“Please, baby. I’ll make you feel so fuckin good. I got you, you got me, Remember?”

He sounded half broken, teetering on the edge from the whiskey on his tongue, and the impending thoughts of losing the only person left in his blood family.

You sat up, grasping the covers between your fingers as he tried to tug them from your grasp.

“Joel, what’s wrong? What happened?” You spoke on the edge of caution given his intoxicated state.

“No. don’t wanna talk. Don’t wanna feel anythin ‘cept you.”

“Joel, you’re drunk and clearly upset over something–”

He cut you off. “M’sober enough to know that the only thing I want right now, is you. You gonna deny me that, sweet girl?” He slurred.

You found yourself at a loss for words. Your eyes focused on the bottle clutched his grasp, his knuckles turning white from the tight hold he had on the bottle. For a moment, you were afraid that it would shatter in his palm. He looked at you, his dark brown eyes glazed over, emotion swirling behind his darkened pupils. He brought the rim of the bottle up to his lips, taking another long swig as he stared through you. The look he gave you sent an un-welcomed chill down your spine.

You reached for the bottle, not wanting him to use liquor to cope with whatever it was that he was actively going through. You brought your hand around his wrist as you gently pried his fingers from the tight grasp they had on the bottle. He didn’t move to stop you as you took the bottle from him, placing it down on the nightstand, next to your knife, and far from his reach. You had kept the flower crown that you made him 2 years ago. The flowers were wilted and dried, but the memory remained. Alongside was the polaroid photo of you and Joel in the field of wildflowers. Now, just another distant memory.

“Enough of that, okay? I know the liquor is good. I know it helps, I know it brings you comfort, but you’re not gonna sit here and hide from me, okay? Please, Joel. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help you, please.”

“S’okay. Can just get another bottle. M’not gonna fight you. Love you too much to do somethin like that. Would be hurtin myself in the process, more than I already have.”

You were reaching for his face, gently sliding your warm palms around his cheeks. Your thumbs were lightly stroking the highest points of his cheek bones. He averted his eyes from your gaze then. He didn’t want you to see him like this. Anger started to simmer, bubble, blister in the pit of his stomach. You shouldn’t be taking care of him like this. He should be taking care of you. He was supposed to be the strong one, the tough one, the protector. Especially now. He didn't believe that he deserved your comfort, not now. Not when he was like this, a shell of a man.

“You don’t want me like this, honey? You don’t want me anymore?” He spoke with a low drawl, his words slurring together.

“Joel, don’t start with that. You damn well know that’s not true.”

“Then why can’t you give me what I want? I ain’t askin’ for much. Why can’t you give that to me? Why won’t you let me? You’re breakin’ my fuckin’ heart baby.”

“You’re drunk, Joel. I can fuckin taste the whiskey on your breath from here. I’m not gonna take advantage of you when you're in this state. Do you hear me? You deserve so much fuckin more than that.” You tried to coax him to look at you, dragging your fingers against his jaw, but he wouldn’t budge.

He scoffed under his breath, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Since when has a little liquor stopped us, huh? Sweet girl, just tell me that you don’t want me anymore. S’okay, I can take it. I can handle it. Gotta leave this shit hole soon anyway.” He admitted.

“Those times were different Joel, and you know it.” You continued to gently hold his face, hoping that somehow you could get through to him. “Please stop saying that I don’t want you. That’s fuckin bull, and if you’re gonna act like a fuckin asshole right now–What’re you talking about leaving?”

“Tommy. I haven’t heard from Tommy in three fuckin weeks. He could be dead for all I know. He could be fuckin’ dead, and I ain’t gonna sit here and not do somethin’ about it. I found out that the radio tower is in Wyoming. I’m gonna trade some shit for a car battery, find a truck outside the QZ, and I'm gonna go find him.”

You let out a deep, slow sigh when Joel finally told you the reason why he was piss drunk and acting this way. Maybe you hadn’t lost him after all. Maybe, just maybe.

“You’re not going alone Joel. You’re not going to Wyoming by your fucking self. Don’t think for a second that i’m going to let you go on a suicide mission like that.”

Joel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, his head dropping between your hands for a moment before he lifted it slightly to look up at you. “It ain’t your fuckin choice to make ‘darlin.” You’re not gonna stop me, and I ain’t leavin’ my fuckin’ brother out there Gwen. You just don’t fuckin get it, do you?” His tone was harsh, jagged and laced with venom. He placed his hands over your small ones and ripped them from his face as he staggered up from the bedside.

“I never said I was going to stop you Joel. All I said was that you’re not fucking going alone. The fuck do you mean I don’t get it? What don’t I understand?” Your heart clenched in on itself from how he was speaking to you. You felt like a cornered animal, fearful of what was to come next. Teeth bared, snarling, with fear stricken eyes.

“You ain’t have any family left to understand.” He knew he struck a nerve with you just by the way your face immediately fell. You were visibly taken aback. His words sliced through you, cutting your heart up into tiny pieces, piercing your lungs.

“Fuck you. How fucking dare you–” You paused with your hands balling up in fists at your sides. “I may not have any fucking family left Joel, but that doesn’t mean that you get to stand there and tell me that I don’t understand what you’re going through.”

His jaw clenched harshly through the soft, casting moonlight. His own hands were at his sides, balled up in fists. All he wanted was your comfort. He nearly begged for it, but you wouldn’t give in. Why wouldn’t you give in? Let him bury his feelings away, deep between your legs. Your denial etched deep into him, reaching the cavern of his heart. He’d never force you, never would dare harm you.

He never learned how to handle loss well. He found it so easy to slip back into his old patterns. They welcomed him in with tender touches, warm whispers, as darkness enclosed around his heart.

His boots were heavy on the creaky floorboards as he took a few steps towards you. He didn’t speak, and he refused to meet your eyes as he reached around you, snatching the bottle back up from the nightstand. For a brief moment, he thought about giving in. Apologizing for being so mean, so cruel. Allow himself to crumple in your lap, and soak his heavy tears against your chest.

He didn’t want that. He wanted to suffer through his feelings, alone.

“Joel..” Your voice was hesitant, timid, nervous. There were tears already threatening to spill over as you struggled to hold them at bay.

He didn’t say a word. Even as your hand reached out for his wrist, eyes pleading with him. He didn’t give in. He was already walking back to the open doorway, bringing the bottle up to his lips as he took another painful swig.

“Why are you doing this? Baby, why won’t you let me help you? Please…you don’t have to go through this alone. I got you, you got me, always. Remember?”

“M’sleepin on the couch.” He finally responded. “Want to be alone, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t follow me.”

“Joel…”

“You fuckin deaf or somethin ‘darlin?” I said, leave.me.alone.”

Your emotions boiled over, tears blurring your vision as you reached for your knife on the nightstand. Gripping the familiar handle in your grasp. in one swift movement, you threw your knife at the door, purposely missing his head. The blade embedded into the worn, paint peeled door. The edge of the blade just barely grazed his ear, drawing blood from the thin skin. You had warm tears streaming down your cheekbones, your breaths heavy as Joel looked at you, stunned.

He reached his hand up, brushing his finger tip against his ear, feeling a cool wetness. He brought his finger down, observing the droplets of maroon against his skin. He chuckled, amusement in his tone.

“You missed.”

He yanked your knife from the door.

“It was on purpose Joel. You damn well know how good my aim is.”

He hummed lightly as he twirled the knife with ease. “You picture stickin’ me between the eyes when you threw it?”

“No. I imagined it nailing you in the fucking heart, you asshole.”

“Ouch. That really hurts, sweet girl.” He twirled it once more, looking at your broken, beautiful face. His presence was no longer looming in the doorway. He was gone.

You did not see Joel Miller for the next 4 days. You counted every single fucking one of them.

You waited up for him each night, praying he would come home, he didn’t. Night four you were worried something had happened to him. Your spiraling mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome; Joel, dead in a ditch somewhere. Second outcome, he found someone else. Someone that wasn’t you. No. There was no fucking way he found someone. He would never. You kept telling yourself that neither outcome was true. It was hours past curfew, the streets were quiet as you packed your bag. Grabbing your spare knife, and pistol. You were wearing one of his flannels as you headed out into the darkness of night to find him.

________________

*one day prior*

Joel was pissed. (surprise, surprise). He was furious with himself, and you. Mostly himself, for being a goddamn fucking asshole. It was easy to continue to drink the pain away, numb all his feelings. Maybe he could consume so much fucking liquor, he could forget what your face looked like.

That was a laughable thought to have. You were unforgettable. Mother fucker, were you so goddamn unforgettable. The worst part? He was reminded of how cruel he was to you each time he looked down at your stupid fucking knife. The handle was well worn, but when he saw your initials carved into the thick wood, he lost it. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

He needed something, someone, to let his anger explode out on.

All it took was two QZ residents to look at him the wrong way. Long enough that he didn’t even think of the consequences of his actions. Fuck the consequences. Fuck FEDRA, fuck the Firefly’s, fuck the infected, and fuck this world.

He followed the two suckers down an alley, hearing them laughing about god knows what. He recognized them. One of the fuckers had given Tess and Bea dirty looks for holding hands in the community center. The other? Had the hots for you. Unashamedly would check you out while you were working alongside Joel. Two excuses for human beings is all he saw as he crept down the alley. His footsteps were light, quiet, unheard.

He had only meant to teach them a lesson. Rough ‘em up a bit. Cuts, bruises, black eye maybe a broken wrist, or two. Then he heard the one guy say your name. Joel Miller was seeing red. These fuckers didn’t stand a chance. Your knife in his grasp as he spilled the filth of their crimson blood along the concrete.

It was a reckless decision, spur of the moment, and fueled by his rage. He would pay the brutal consequences of his actions, shortly after.

The tip of his knife was dripping with the congealed blood of his victims. His breaths, heavy and jagged as he came to his senses.

Too late.

“Fuck.”

Shouting, FEDRA soldiers, the wind whipping in his ears as he ran.

Had he left the crime scene quicker, he probably would have escaped. Not only was he out past curfew, but he had just brutally murdered two QZ residents. Whoops.

It didn’t take long for the FEDRA fucks to catch him, rough him up, and throw him in lockup. His life was spared simply for the fact that he had two of the soldiers wrapped around his finger, all because of a packet of pills.

The amount of liquor in his system numbed his pain receptors. He couldn’t feel shit as he was thrown into a cell.

___________

*present time*

You were incredibly cautious as you headed out onto the dark streets. You knew your decision to go looking for Joel past curfew, was a reckless one. Did you care? Not one fucking bit.

You flattened your back against a crumbling brick wall as two FEDRA soldiers passed, talking amongst each other.

“You know he doesn’t deserve to live, right? You saw what he did, man. There was so much fuckin blood.”

“He’ll get what’s coming for him eventually. If we kill him, who the hell is gonna keep getting us high?”

“Fair point.”

You were silent as their footsteps sounded further and further away. You knew they were talking about Joel; your Joel. You let out a soft breath as you crept from your hiding place. Joel had killed two people; fact. Joel was also alive, and that’s all you could think about now.

You knew exactly where Joel would be. So you waited outside the building, silently devising a plan for how you were going to bust him out of there, before FEDRA could change their mind.

Your silent thoughts were interrupted when you heard a heavy metal door creak open, the sound of a grunt, followed by a thud of a body hitting the concrete. You knew right away that it was Joel.

He was pulling himself up from the concrete, staggering to his feet and by his posture alone, you could tell he was in pain. “Motherfucker.” He grunted to himself.

You made your presence known as you appeared from behind the wall. He didn’t see you at first, but when he heard stray rocks crunching beneath boots, he was on high alert.

“Joel.”

He whipped around, nearly giving himself whiplash from the fast movement. Your voice was all too distinguishable.

“What in god’s fucking name are you doin’ out here?!” He was already walking towards you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Are you fuckin’ insane ‘darlin? Or are you just fuckin’ stupid?” He continued, waiting for you to flinch from his tone, or take a step back. You did neither.

“You tryin’ to get your ass thrown in lockup too?! Fuckin’ answer me Gwen!”

He was close enough now that you could see his split upper lip, ugly purple and blue bruising along his beautiful jaw, and his black eye. In a fury, you had grabbed his face in your palms gently, searching his eyes.

“Who the fuck did this to you?”

He was taken aback by your gentle touch, he expected you to be rough on him from the way he treated you, but you were the complete fucking opposite.

“Who fucking did this to you Joel?!” You harshly whispered.

He chuckled as he looked into your eyes, “FEDRA. Got thrown in lockup, obviously. Now answer me. What the fuck are you–”

You cut him off, ignoring his question. You knew the answer as to why he was thrown in lockup. You wanted to hear it from his own mouth, in his words.

“What the fuck did you do to get thrown in lockup?” You demanded.

He sneered at you. His face hurt from the movement but he didn’t care.

“Wouldn’t you like to know ‘darlin.”

You let go of his face and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, harshly yanking it.

“Yeah, cowboy. I would fuckin like to know.”

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face as he spoke, “killed a couple of fuckers with your knife. Felt fuckin good. Thought of you as their blood spilled out on the fuckin’ concrete. Thought of you the whole time baby.” He spat.

You didn’t even skip a fucking beat from his confession. You already knew the truth after all, and there was no reason for you to be shocked.

“Yeah? You thought of me? Did they deserve it?”

“Didn’t like the way they were lookin’ at me. Wanted to teach ‘em a lesson, and I got carried away. One of ‘em gave Beatrix a dirty look for holdin’ Tess’s hand a while back. The other? He had the hots for you. Always lookin’ at you, checkin’ you out. They both deserved it.”

“Y’know you can’t just go and kill people cause they looked at you the wrong way Joel.”

“I know, but I'd be lyin’ to your face if I told ya it didn’t feel good. They were scumbags, and they had it ‘comin.”

“Did you really have to go and kill them with my knife though?” You asked, your hands were still gripping the collar of his shirt tightly.

“Considerin’ you threw it at my fuckin’ head, yeah. Felt poetic.”

You let out a sigh, loosening your grip on him slightly, your anger was still simmering.

“You gonna’ answer my question now? Gonna’ tell me why in the hell you’re out here past fuckin’ curfew nonetheless?”

“You haven’t come home in 4 fuckin days Joel. I was worried that something had happened. That you were fucking dead in a goddamn ditch somewhere. I’m perfectly aware of the consequences of being out past curfew, Joel. I don’t care about the consequences. I just had to make sure that you were okay.”

He was in disbelief. His brows were furrowed in as you explained yourself.

“What’re you doin’ givin’ a fuck about me after the way I treated you, sweet girl. What is fuckin’ wrong with you? You shoulda’ been wishin’, prayin’ that I was dead.”

You laughed, your voice cracking slightly because how could this man be so fucking stupid?

“What makes you think that I wouldn’t care? You think that I can just erase you that easily, Joel? You think for a second that I wouldn’t fucking come looking for you?”

He opened his mouth to speak, no words were formed, he looked like a fucking blubbering fish.

“Save it. I don’t want to hear you say some bullshit about how I deserve better. I’m too good for you, blah blah blah. Fucking swallow those words right now Joel.”

He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together.

“Yes ma'am.” He whispered.

You wasted no time grabbing his hand, taking him back home, despite his protests.

The shower started shortly after you arrived home. Your movements were slow, gentle, careful as you removed his shirt from the hem. You found new scars blooming on his beautiful skin. Despite the fact that you were emotionally hurt by this man, you refused to let him suffer alone. You pressed a light kiss to his soft tummy, just above the navel.

“Baby Doll, what’re you–”

“Shuddup Joel.”

You tossed his shirt to the side before you undid his belt buckle, listening to the clanking of metal as you carefully shimmied his jeans down his legs with his boxers. You kept your gaze locked on his eyes as you discarded his clothes. You ignored the feeling of his hands along your waist, his own touch was delicate, comforting. You pushed his hands off of you as you gestured to the shower.

“Get in.”

“Gwen, please–”

“Get in the fucking shower Joel.”

He let out a pained sigh, bringing his hands down to his sides as he stepped under the cold stream of water. It felt like knives and needles stabbing into his back all at once.

You were already turning on your heel, attempting to leave till his hand reached out, wrapping around your wrist as he pulled you under the stream with him.

“Joel what the fuck are you doing–”

“Please. Please, darlin’ don’t go. Please, I'm sorry.” He begged, his tone rasping.

Your clothes were already being soaked through as he pulled you into his chest, holding you firmly against him.

“Please don’t leave me.”

You let out a sigh, slowly turning around in his arms so you were facing him.

“Apologies are not going to fix this Joel.”

“I know honey, I know. I promise I will make it up to you.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you reached around him and grabbed what was left of the bar of soap. You gently wiped away the dirt, dried blood, and filth from his skin. You let him hold you, but you refused to fully give in. He was smart enough, respectful enough, to not try anything funny.

_________________

The nightmares started shortly after you brought Joel back home. Each night they got worse and it killed you inside to see him suffer like this. You were torn up. Joel had hurt you, you hurt him and it was beginning to feel like a vicious, endless cycle.

On this particular night, it was storming. The wind howled as the heavy rain pelted against the windows. Flashes of bright, white lighting struck against the black sky, and rumbles of thunder followed shortly after. You could hear Joel mumbling in his sleep, his back facing you. He mumbled Sarah’s name, Tommy. His tone was strained, pained. “You’re okay. Please, you’re okay. Move your hand, baby.” “Tommy, help me!” He was twitching under the covers, his body was trembling, there was cold sweat dripping down his bare back, chest, and forehead.

You wanted to pretend that you couldn’t hear his mumbles, his pained cries for his dead daughter and assumably alive brother. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block him out entirely, but you couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop caring about this man.

You rolled over so you were facing his back and placed your hand between his shoulder blades. Your fingers splayed across his sweat soaked skin.

“Joel. Baby, wake up.” You whispered.

You received no response, even as you gently shook him.

“Joel. wake up, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up baby, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

You shook him once more, a little firmer this time and he suddenly shot up from under the covers. His eyes were wide, frantic as he looked around. His wild gaze finally landed on you. His chest was rising and falling harshly, his nostrils flared and he looked like he was in a daze.

“Joel. Hey, honey. It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

He was reaching for you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he yanked you to his chest, pulling you into his lap.

Your thighs instinctively wrapped around his hips as you brought your hands up to his face, gently holding his cheeks in your warm palms, while his sweaty forehead rested against yours.

“Sarah..she–she. My baby girl–”

“I know baby..I'm sorry.” You gently stroked your thumbs against his cheekbones as his tears began to freely fall, his body still trembling under your gentle grasp.

“Tommy he–he.”

“He’s alive Joel. I promise you, he’s alive.”

“We don’t know. We–we don’t. He’s all I have left of my family. He’s the only one left.”

“I know he is Joel. I know, and I understand. You’re safe, and you don’t need to go through this alone. Okay? I know how you feel right now baby. I felt the same things you are feeling right now, after they died.”

He pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed in as he looked at you.

“Tell me how they died, please. I-I–want to know.”

“I had to kill them, Joel; My parents. It was just the three of us at one point. I was twenty. Came home one day, everything seemed normal. We were sitting around the dinner table and they were..something was off. They had this..this dead look in their eyes. They weren’t talking and then, I just knew. I fucking knew they were infected. I had no time to mourn Joel. They lunged at me and I took my knife, and killed them. Their only child, their only daughter, killed them. I left Michigan after that. Left the ranch, left my home, and never returned.”

Joel was at a loss for words. He could not even begin to fathom what you had gone through. He felt entirely guilty for saying that you couldn’t understand what he was going through. You knew his pain all too well. He held you as close as he physically could. His grip around your waist was firm, yet gentle. God, he felt terrible.

“Honey, baby, I'm so sorry..I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“Joel, please do not feel sorry for me. Okay? I did what I had to do to survive. It was either me, or them. I was left with no other choice.”

“I don’t care, my sweet girl. You should have never had to go through that.”

“I endured it, Joel. I mourned, I moved on. Ran right into you. The point is, you shouldn’t feel alone. You don’t have to be, okay? Please don’t push me away. I know how easy it is to dig yourself into a hole, let the walls cave in. I know exactly what you’re feeling, and I am right here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We have to do somethin’ I can’t just leave him out there Gwen.”

“I know. That’s why you and I are going to go look for Tommy, together. We’re gonna get that car battery, leave the QZ, and go to Wyoming. I’ll go anywhere with you. I got you, you got me, always.”

He took a deep breath, while he allowed your words, and the significance they held, wash over him.

He gave you a small nod, stroking his thumbs along the soft skin of your lower back.

“You got me, I got you, always.”

It was true, you’d follow Joel Miller, your fellow, your guy, anywhere.

Chapter 14:

223 notes · View notes